It is true that the moon landing did not do much for archaeology. Yet, the space program and the space race, the military-industrial complex of the late 1950s and 1960s, along with other lines of research, created the fundamentals of what we use in spatial technology in archaeology today.
The stiff, gray cardboard box sat calmly on the table in the quiet NASA archive at the University of Houston Clear Lake: History Archive, Box#52, Astronomy Papers and Research. Folder 8, “Parker personal correspondence,” contained the transcript of an astronaut’s personal diary about landing on the moon.
The year is 1902. Our setting is a Jules Verne-inspired film studio on the outskirts of Paris. Illusionist and director Georges Méliès is about to produce one of the most influential films ever made—Le voyage dans la lune (A Trip to the Moon).
The Scottish National Party (SNP) presents itself as a non-radical civic nationalist party—a traditional party of government, a party to be taken seriously, and one that has capably led the Scottish Parliament for the past eight years.
With Apollo 11’s successful moon landing in 1969, humans captured the first picture of the earth as a globe. Taken from a distance in space, this picture marks a pictorial imagination of the “global” characterized by imageries of the earth as a whole.
Last January in Texas, I sat listening as Solomon, a self-described atheist who had long worked with the NASA Human Research Program, talked about destiny. I asked him to tell me about the future of humans in space and he answered, eyes lit with emotion, “It’s whatever anybody wants it to be, and it’s unlimited. It’s inevitable.”
On March 26, 2019, NASA cancelled the first all-female astronaut spacewalk outside the International Space Station. The size medium suits needed by astronauts Christina Koch and Anne McClain were on board, but only one was prepped for a spacewalk. So instead, it was Koch and fellow astronaut Nick Hague who floated outside the space station to install new batteries.
The topic of the Apollo 11 moonwalk on July 16, 1969, stirred a range of memories for senior anthropologists. Myrdene Anderson, then a graduate student at Yale, even remembers what she had to eat that evening: poached salmon, cooked by fellow grad student Michiko Takaki. Fifty years on however, she feels cause to question her recollections.
The Biosphere Reserve of El Pinacate in northwestern Mexico, sacred to the Tohono O’odham, is considered a paradise by biologists for its diversity of plant and animal life, and by geologists for its immense dunes and lava fields.