However, the Spaniards apparently failed to appreciate even a single word of the collected knowledge of the Maya and strove to eradicate all of its ancient learning. In this cause, one of the Spanish champions of ignorance was Friar Diego de Landa, who never hesitated to use torture in his holy quest against paganism (i.e., any beliefs other than his own). And what he couldn’t eradicate by the sword, he destroyed by fire.
In one village in 1562, de Landa gathered all the codices (which were conveniently written on bark) and burned them “since they contained nothing but superstitions and falsehoods of the devil.” He recorded that the Maya reacted “most grievously” and with “great pain” at the loss of their books, but they obviously were too stupid to realize it was for their own good.
So effective was this campaign of book burning that of all the codices produced by this ancient civilization, only four survived. (Hopefully, poor Friar de Landa didn’t fret the remainder of his life about the ones that got away.) Yet, even from just these four codices it is clear that Mayan astronomers were among the most precise observers and mathematicians in the history of the world. The indiscriminate destruction of their knowledge earns these Spaniards very black marks in the codices of Bad Astronomy.
Friar Diego de Landa did return to Spain to stand trial for his cruelties perpetrated against the native peoples, but not surprisingly, he was not only pardoned, he was made Bishop of Yucatán.
The pious Diego de Landa,
who never hesitated to
torture Mayans who were
hesitant to convert to
the loving and compassionate
Christian faith.
Is Anybody Home?
Carl Friedrich Gauss (1777-1855) was a gifted German mathematician who began making discoveries in his teens and continued through a long, illustrious career. He was also an astronomer, and was director of the observatory in Gottingen for 48 years. His accomplishments place him firmly in the pantheon of geniuses, yet on at least one occasion, Gauss took a slight flight of fancy.
Assuming that Mars was inhabited, Gauss theorized about how we could contact our Martian neighbors. In 1802, he thought he had found a solution. In the vast tundra region bordering the Arctic Ocean in Siberia, Gauss proposed that huge figures be drawn into the surface. Of course, these figures would have to be large enough for Martian telescopes to resolve, and they needed to be geometric shapes, so there would be no mistake that they were not of natural origin.
As if to get one up on Gauss’ “Nazca North” plan, a rather ludicrous suggestion was made in 1874 by Charles Cros. Just in case the Martians weren’t looking our way with telescopes, Cros decided to deliver a message to their doorstep, or desert, to be more accurate. By angling the sun’s rays through a large, movable lens, Cros wanted to burn his message right into the Martian landscape. Perhaps the idea came to him while frying ants beneath a magnifying glass; a scenario which could have been repeated on a massive, catastrophic scale had it actually been possible to build the contraption and it was pointed the wrong way (e.g., at his house, his friends, the nearby town, etc.). Even if he was successful in sending a burning beam through the far reaches of space, didn’t Cros consider that any potential Martians might consider it an act of war?
No one can be faulted for wishing to contact intelligent life beyond our planet; scientists are still trying to this day. Perhaps some alien civilization is even trying to contact us. So if you’re ever in the desert and deadly beams of burning light are heading your way, don’t forget to smile and wave!
“There is practically no chance communications space satellites will be used to provide better telephone, telegraph, television, or radio service inside the United States.”
Tunis Craven, FCC Commissioner, 1961
Put Up and Shut Up
All too often people indulge in wild speculations, but few are willing to put their money where their mouths are. In 1952, Godfried Buren not only put forth a ridiculous theory, he put up a lot of cash to back it.
The theory: There is a planet within the sun that is covered in lush vegetation. (Hot pepper plants and burning bushes, perhaps?)
The cash: Twenty-five thousand Deutsche Marks to the first person who could prove that the inside of the sun wasn’t a massive greenhouse.
The result: A legal battle that was decided in favor of the astronomical society which offered the proof that disproved Buren’s theory.
The tragedy: The only truly sad part in this farce is how much money the lawyers probably made in the process.
Martians Are Easy
Instead of discouraging such bizarre ideas as building bonfires to attract the attention of extraterrestrials, such suggestions were actually encouraged—money being the great motivator.
In France in 1900, a contest was begun for the first person to communicate with a life form from beyond our planet. While fame was no doubt assured for the winner, fortune wouldn’t be far behind. The prize was 100,000 francs; more than enough to allow our extraterrestrial neighbors to call collect.
However, there was a catch. Any person communicating with Martians was not eligible for the prize money. It wasn’t that the contest officials were prejudiced toward inhabitants of the red planet, they simply felt that there wasn’t any challenge to contacting Martians. After all, when you’re giving away that kind of money you want the contestants to show some effort.
“Transmission of documents via telephone wires is possible in principle, but the apparatus required is so expensive that it will never become a practical proposition.”
Dennis Gabor, physicist,
author of Inventing the Future, 1962
Fine Line
In 1930, Clyde Tombaugh produced photographic evidence for the existence of Pluto. The photos ended a quarter of a century hunt for the tiny planet; a hunt begun by Percival Lowell. In 1905, Lowell had concluded that the orbital perturbations of Uranus and Neptune were caused by an unseen ninth planet, but unfortunately, he didn’t live long enough to see it. However, Lowell apparently sought balance in his career by seeing things that weren’t really there.
The Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Arizona, sits atop Mars Hill, so named for the obsession of its founder. In 1877, Giovanni Schiaparelli reported “canali” or channels on the surface of Mars. Lowell, and most of the rest of the English-speaking world, misinterpreted canali as canals, of the Martian-made variety. Determined to continue Schiaparelli’s work, Lowell built his observatory in the clear, thin mountain air (perhaps a little too thin) of the Southwest.
Tirelessly observing Mars for countless hours, he produced numerous, detailed sketches showing an intricate network of fine lines which he believed to be canals—exactly 288 canals bringing water to every corner of the parched planet, and giving life to the cycles of vegetation he also claimed to witness. Cities located at the intersections of these canals further indicated that Martian civilization was very peaceful and advanced, probably more advanced than our own.
In 1895, Lowell published Mars, a book detailing his findings. In 1898, he founded a journal devoted to Martian theories, and in 1906, he published another book, Mars and its Canals. Together, these works helped to fuel the popular belief of a noble race struggling to survive on a dying planet.
However, some astronomers had little sympathy for our Martian neighbors, and even less for Percival Lowell. Lowell’s findings were severely criticized by astronomers like E.E. Barnard of the Lick Observatory, and E.M. Antoniadi, working at Meudon Observatory outside of Paris. They claimed that they had never seen any features remotely like those Lowell was claiming to see. (Interestingly enough, however, a few decades ago it was discovered that both men had made sketches of Mars showing canal-like lines almost identical to Lowell’s.)
The debate took some absurd turns, with Lowell claiming that his eyesight was “acute,” allowing him to detect the fine lines, while Barnard, although known for his superior vision, actually only had “sensitive” eyes incapable of detecting the d
elicate tracery of the canals.
To Antoniadi’s criticism, Lowell countered that the Paris telescope (a 33-inch refractor) was obviously too big to obtain accurate views of the red planet. While Lowell had a 24-inch refractor at his observatory, he always stopped it down by six to twelve inches, believing it allowed him to better see the Martian engineering feats.
Surprisingly, the most damaging evidence against Martian life came not from an astronomer, but from octogenarian naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace. It was Wallace’s studies of comparative biology that led him to a theory of evolution similar to Darwin’s. Wallace, despite his advanced age, turned his considerable talents to Lowell’s calculations, and in 1907 uncovered several mistakes; mistakes which turned Lowell’s image of an England-like climate with free-flowing water, to the harsh reality of an almost perpetually frozen world with an atmosphere even too thin for the outspoken Lowell to catch his breath.
(However, in all fairness, it must be pointed out that in his analysis, Wallace crossed a line of his own. Extending his conclusions to the rest of the universe, he believed that life couldn’t exist anywhere else but on Earth.)
Dismayed, but undaunted by the barrage of criticism, Percival Lowell continued to firmly believe in the Martian civilization until the day he died. For his fervent desire to discover life on other planets he cannot be condemned—it is a desire many of us still harbor. And as for the strange features of Mars he claimed to see, some competent amateur astronomers still occasionally report seeing bizarre shapes. However, the following summary clearly shows where Lowell blatantly leapt over the fine, canal-like lines between science and Bad Astronomy.
What Might Have Been Going on in Lowell’s Mind:
1. Now that I’ve told everyone just exactly what I’m going to find on Mars, I’d better build an observatory and gather lots of evidence to support every one of my claims.
2. My eyes are better than your eyes.
3. Idiots! Don’t they realize big telescopes are worthless? I sure hope they never put a big telescope in space. That would be a complete disaster.
4. Everyone must be jealous of my abilities. Yeah, that’s it, they’re all suffering from Percy-envy.
5. So I was wrong about little details like the harsh climate and lack of water. That doesn’t mean I’m not right, does it?
Lunar Roving
On the evening of October 21, 1939, a weather balloon caught fire and fell to earth between Springfield and Strafford, Missouri. The following day a local newspaper, the Springfield News and Leader, declared that the Moon had burned and crashed onto the highway.
However, it seems that not everyone in the intellectual mecca of Springfield believed that the Moon had crashed, as they had never heard of this happening in their town before, even though some people had lived there for fifty years.
The more Bad Astronomy changes, the more it stays the same.
“To place a man in a multi-stage rocket and project him into the controlling gravitational field of the moon where the passengers can make scientific observations, perhaps land alive, and then return to earth—all that constitutes a wild dream worthy of Jules Verne. I am bold enough to say that such a man-made voyage will never occur regardless of all future advances.”
Lee de Forest, inventor of the vacuum tube, 1957
Broken-down Chariots
To point out the errors, inaccuracies, and exaggerations in Erich Von Daniken’s books—Chariots of the Gods, Gods From Outer Space, and Gold of the Gods—would in itself, require an entire book. In fact, it has already been done at least once (Crash Go The Chariots by Clifford Wilson). Even concentrating merely on the astronomical errors would be a lengthy task, so only two brief examples will be given.
1. In Chariots, in order to bolster support for his idea that the pyramids were built by visitors from space, Von Daniken poses the question, “Is it really a coincidence that the height of the pyramid of Cheops multiplied by a thousand million—98,000,000 miles— corresponds approximately to the distance between the earth and the sun?”
As the actual distance is about 93 million miles, giving a hefty 5 million mile error, it appears that our visitors weren’t very good at simple calculations, but then neither was Von Daniken. The height of the pyramid is 481.4 feet, which in his arbitrary equation would actually yield a result of 91.17 million miles. (Is it really a coincidence that both Von Daniken and the space men have poor math skills?)
2. Early on in Chariots, Von Daniken refers to “a cave drawing (that) reproduces the exact position of the stars as they actually were 10,000 years ago. Venus and earth are joined by lines.”
Later in the book, he throws his hat in Velikovsky’s ring and claims that the data from Mariner II “confirms Velikovsky’s theory”—the theory being that “a giant comet crashed into Mars and that Venus had been formed as a result of this collision.” This is important to Von Daniken, because he believes this would support his “thesis that a group of Martian giants perhaps escaped to earth to found the new culture of homo sapiens by breeding with the semi-intelligent beings living there.”
Now, according to Velikovsky, Venus was formed from Jupiter, but paternity aside, the important number is his claim that Venus was formed about 3,500 years ago. So how can Von Daniken, in the space of one book, agree with the theory that Venus is only 3,500 years old, and also refer to a 10,000 year old drawing of Venus? How clever these spacemen were to draw a planet that wasn’t going to form for thousands of years.
The first line of the introduction to Chariots states, “It took courage to write this book, and it will take courage to read it.” Courage, and a strong stomach. In addition to his imaginative use of facts, Von Daniken has sucked the life out of humanity’s creative intelligence, reducing mankind to cowering lab animals who couldn’t discover the noses on their faces without the help of aliens.
The theory that earth has been visited (and is still being visited) by beings from other planets is, at the very least, a compelling concept. However, if perverting astronomy, archaeology, and human nature is necessary to prove this theory, it would be better to believe that we are all alone in the universe.
“Space travel is utter bilge.”
Dr. Richard van der Reit Wooley,
space advisor to the UK government, 1956
“Space travel is bunk.”
Sir Harold Spencer Jones,
Astronomer Royal of the UK, 1957
(Two weeks after this statement, Sputnik was launched.)
Not Worth the Ink
From the day Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walked on the surface of the moon in July of 1969, there have been those who claimed it was all faked and staged.
That’s just too stupid even for this book to waste the time and ink writing about such idiotic claims.
Let’s Face It
Viking 1 provided thousands of pictures of the surface of Mars, but one in particular created an alien civilization craze unparalleled since the days of Percival Lowell. However, the issue has gone far beyond mere canals—we are now dealing with mile-long faces, towering pyramids, and an entire ancient Martian city, or so some people claim.
The photograph that started the stir was taken in June of 1976, and showed a region (41’ N latitude, 9.5’ W longitude) that contained some odd features, including one resembling a face. The picture was examined and after concluding that it was an interesting, but natural, geological formation, it was filed away. The actual stir didn’t begin until 1980, when Vincent DiPietro and Gregory Molenaar resurrected the photo, computer-enhanced it, and concluded that the face did not seem to have been made by “totally natural forces.” They presented these findings at the American Astronomical Society meeting in June of 1981.
Things began to escalate, and soon there was talk of a city with pyramids, forts, amphitheaters, and water tanks. The mouth of the face apparently is not only aligned with the heart of the “city,” but the rising of the sun at the summer solstice as well—at least where it would have
risen half a million years ago, when this culture supposedly thrived in a more hospitable climate. Assumptions were heaped upon assumptions and any semblance of reason and scientific method was lost in a circus-like arena of speculation.
The controversial Face on Mars.
The entire Face on Mars mess was supposed to be resolved when the Mars Observer was scheduled to enter orbit in August of 1993. The pro-facers claimed that conclusive evidence of the city would finally be provided, while the other side hoped the issue would once and for all be defaced. Unfortunately, it is suspected that as the fuel tanks of the Observer were being pressurized in preparation for entering orbit, there was a leak that caused the craft to spin out of control. Of course, this was only NASA’s explanation—the pro-facers had some very different ideas. Yet even they couldn’t agree on the same scenario.
To briefly summarize:
1. The Mars Observer blew up, because our government intentionally blew it up to hide the truth of the alien civilization. (Among the many questions here is why not just eliminate the budget for the project in the first place, rather than spending an enormous amount of time and money to build, launch, and monitor something you intended to blow up?)
2. The Mars Observer is in its proper orbit and is currently sending secret information back to earth.
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