"Live long and prosper!"

I wonder if Leonard Nimoy ever thought, when he adapted a traditional Orthodox Jewish prayer gesture for his new television role, that thousands of small fingers would be painstakingly coaxed into the same position every school breaktime for years afterwards.

I can't be the only one who, on learning of his recent death, responded with an automatic Vulcan salute, half-surprised that the muscle memory persists to this day.

Gene Roddenberry's vision may look dated now but, growing up in a place where a 'foreigner' was a Southerner from over the English border, a crew of humans of all nationalities united in space exploration was a novel and thought-provoking concept (though we all knew, of course, that Scotty had to be the real hero, whatever Kirk and Spock got up to); add in a character from a distant planet and we were all completely hooked.

The early 1970s were heady times for space-mad nerdlets; real-life moon rockets vied for attention with the fictional exploits of intergalactic travellers and the crew of the errant moon base in the optimistically named  'Space 1999' (a series which, to my delighted surprise, still had a devoted following in Austria in 1982, when British television had moved on to 'Boys From the Blackstuff' and invented Channel 4).

With such a background - not to mention the early influence of the lids protecting the Clangers' underground homes from meteorite impacts and space debris - it's hardly surprising that this blog has retained an interest in extra-terrestrial matters and asteroids in particular.

Today, therefore, we have double cause for celebration in 2015 DO215 and 2015 DS23, two 50-odd metre wide space rocks passing by today at around 1.2 million km. Rather bigger than the Chelyabinsk meteor, they are, as their designations show, relatively recent discoveries, a reminder that NASA's impressive detection equipment is doing well - and that there are plenty of as yet undetected bodies out there.

And tonight, we are not only raising our usual glass in the Tavern to mark the event but also drinking a toast to Leonard Nimoy and to the unforgettable original Mr Spock.

A fable for our time

While writing yesterday's post, I made the happy discovery that one of my favourite 'Clangers' episodes is now online, though not yet available to embed here.

The Clangers would doubtless be dismissed by today's yoof TV executives as hopelessly old-fashioned; they live in a nuclear family and are all the same colour - oh dear! Still, they would probably get some credit for their multicultural friendship with the Iron Chicken, though the Soup Dragon's ethnic minority stereotypical role as a provider of fast food could be problematic - and there might be trouble reconciling blue string pudding with the 'eatwell plate' much beloved of the NHS.

In any case, the sedate pace of the narrative would probably be seen as out of place in a world where Winnie the Pooh has been reduced to a speeded-up 'story app' because because 'the publisher says children will lose interest if the story does not zip along.'

All the same, I can't help feeling we'd have a better society if some of the Clangers' moral lessons were learned by the current generation of pre-school children.

It's ten minutes long so, if you have time to spare, pour yourself a drink appropriate to the time of day, put your feet up and enjoy a lesson in economics - and the dangers of 3D printing -  from some little knitted aliens.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJhePGnzuUU

Asteroid ennui

Another week, another asteroid!

Actually, 2013 LR6 is more of a rock, really, being a distinctly unimpressive 30 ft in diameter, but it's still an excuse for a party (video animation here).

Though it is missing us by a mere 65,000 miles (it helps to consider that the Earth is about 7,900 miles in diameter, and the Moon is an average of 238,855 miles away), it seems to have escaped the attention of the popular press because it's a midget compared to the much larger 1998 QE2.

And, as regular visitors to the Tavern know, it's been quite a year for asteroids already. As detection levels improve, the number of objects known to be hurtling round out there will increase to a point where their proximity does not even raise an eyebrow.

Of course, some of us have known for a long time that the smaller rocks were out there - as far back as the 1970s, Oliver Postgate's knitted TV aliens were called 'Clangers' after the sound made by the metal lids that protected their burrows from meteorite impacts - but after this year's glut of spectacular news stories, readers expect more.

We now take for granted that the number-crunchers can predict orbital paths to the last decimal place; if they say there's no danger of impact, then all the suspense is gone. And, if Hollywood trends are anything to go by, asteroid impact is just so last decade - it's all about zombies now.

So yet another passing rock has to be something out the ordinary to grab the attention of the man on the Clapham omnibus. The newsworthiness of asteroids, it appears, is determined by some kind of equation that incorporates size, distance and the possibility of using an artist's impression of a massive cosmic disaster.

Here in the Tavern, however, we have not lost our sense of awe at what lies beyond our planet; whether or not you share it, you are invited to raise a virtual tankard with us in salute of 2013 LR6.

Satirical knitting

Here at the Tavern, we preserve a childhood nostalgia for knitted social commentary thanks to The Clangers, Oliver Postgate's little woollen aliens learning from experience the dangers of unwise agricultural practices ('Sky-Moos') or industrial over-production ('Goods').

You could knit your own Clanger if you have the time and the skill - instructions here - but, as the BBC reports today, a French blogger has gone one better and produced a whole range of instantly recognisable public figures who appear on her charmingly witty satirical website, Delit Maille (loosely, 'Outlaw Knitting') - which by happy chance sounds a lot like Daily Mail.

If you have not already encountered this bizarre but utterly inspired phenomenon, the BBC has a memorable slide show of the best bits here.

For Fans of Blue String Pudding

A fantastic post from Plato Says on the missing Clangers episode - Vote For Froglet - links to the BBC's cult TV Clangers page.

Here you can find such trivia as the fact that the Clangers' feet were nailed to the set to keep them in place (Aaaah!) and a link to directions for knitting your own Clanger. Fans of the series will, of course, be aware that instructions for making the inferior felt version appeared in the Clangers Annual.

The best bit of all is Oliver Postgate's description of the Creation of the Clangers' world:

In the beginning was the void and the void was dark and without form, being 'eight by five' sheets of battened hardboard painted midnight blue. And on the first day took we a bucket of white emulsion and big floppy brushes and threw white stars thereon, even unto the extremities thereof. And we looked upon it and saw that it was terrible.And on the second day we painted it out and started again...

A great man, sadly missed.

Dr Who versus the Clangers

Sad news today of the demise of Oliver Postgate, whose instantly recognisable voice accompanied the adventures of the Clangers and Noggin the Nog to name but two. Not only were the Clangers inherently delightful, they also conveyed a strong eco-message. Who could forget their ill-advised meddling with agriculture (in 'Sky-Moos') or the machine that produced useless plastic tat?

In fact, it's difficult to decide whether the most evocative voice of the seventies was that of Oliver Postgate or the mellifluous rasp of Jon Pertwee as Dr Who. To listen to either is to be instantly transported back in time. In fact, as austerity brings a resurgence of the tastes of that era (shops full of Angel Delight and Wotsits, a musical based on Abba songs), perhaps it's time for the BBC to bow to the inevitable and offer the role of the next Dr Who to Sean Pertwee, that gravel-voiced chip off the old block.

PS Was Bernard Cribbins actually reprising his Dr Who role from the Peter Cushing film when he appeared with Catherine Tate or was it just a weird coincidence?