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Diagram ~ Voyager Spacecraft Golden Record


1977, Carl Sagan asked Toronto painter and radio producer Jon Lomberg how an artist might express the essence of human identity to an audience that had never seen humans. With fellow Cornell astrophysicist Frank Drake, Sagan had just been invited by NASA to devise something meaningful about humanity to accompany the twin Voyager spacecrafts, which would visit the outer planets and then continue on through interstellar space, possibly forever.
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Both Pioneers carry 6-by9-inches gold-plated aluminum plaques bolted to their frames, bearing line etching by Sagan’s former wife Linda Salzman that depict a naked human male and female. Next to them are graphical depiction of Earth’s position in the solar system and sun’s location in the Milky Way, plus the cosmic equivalent of phone number: a mathematical key based on a transitional stage of hydrogen, indicating wavelengths where we’re tuned in, listening.
The messages carried by the Voyagers, Sagan told Jon Lomberg, would go into much more detail about us. In an era preceding digital media Drake had contrived a way to record both sounds and images on a 12-inch, gold plated copper analog disk, which would include a stylus and, they hoped, intelligible diagram on how to play it. Sagan wanted Lomberg, the illustrator of his popular books, as the recording’s design director.
The notion was boggling: conceive and choreograph a showcase that would be a work of art in itself, bearing what might likely be the last remaining fragments of human aesthetic expression. Once aloft, the gold anodized aluminum box containing the record, whose cover Lomberg would also design, would be exposed to weathering by cosmic rays and interstellar dust. By conservative estimates, it would last at least a billion years, but probably much longer. By then, tectonic upheavals or an expanded sun might well have rendered any signs of us left on Earth down to their molecular essence. It might be the closest that any human artifact would get to a chance at eternity.
Lomberg had only six weeks to think about that before launch. He and his colleagues polled world figures, semioticians, thinkers, artists, scientists, and science fiction writers on what might possibly penetrate the consciousness of unfathomable viewers and listeners. (Years later, Lomberg would also help design the warning to trespassers of buried radioactive peril at New Mexico’s Waste Isolation Pilot Plant.) This disk would carry recorded greetings I 54 human languages, plus voices of dozens of other Earth inhabitant, from sparrows to whales, and sounds such as a heartbeat, surf, a jackhammer, crackling fire, thunder, and a mother’s kiss.
The picture included diagrams of DNA and the solar system, as well as photographs of nature, architecture, town and cityscapes, women nursing babies, men hunting, children contemplating a globe, athletes competing, and people eating. Since the finders might not realize that a photo was more than abstract squiggles, Lomberg sketched some accompanying silhouettes to help them discern a figure from its background. For a portrait a five generation family, he silhouetted individuals and included notations conveying their relative sizes, weights, and ages. For a human couple, he made the woman’s silhouetted womb transparent to reveal the fetus growing within, hoping that communion between in artist’s idea and an unseen viewer’s imagination might transcend even enormous time and space.
“My job was not just to find all these images, but to sequence them in a way that added more information than the sum of the individual pictures,” he recalls today in his home near Hawaii’s observatory-studded Mauna Kea volcano. Beginning with things of cosmic traveler might recognize, such as planets as seen from space or the spectra of stars, he arranged images along an evolutionary flow, from geology to the living biosphere to human culture.
Similarly, he orchestrated the sounds. Although he was a painter, he senses that music had a better chance than images to reach, and maybe even enchant, the alien mind. Partly, because rhythm is manifest throughout physics, but also because of him, “other than nature, it’s most reliable way to get into touch with what we call spirit.”
The disk contains 26 selections, including music of pigmies, Navajos, Azerbaijani bagpipes, mariachis, Chuck Berry, Bach, and Louis Armstrong. Lomberg’s most cherished nominee was the Queen of the Night’s aria from Mozart’s ‘The Magic Flute’. In it, soprano Edda Moser, backed by the Bavarian State Opera Orchestra, displays the upper limit of the human voice, hitting the loftiest note in the standard operatic repertoire, a high F. Lomberg and the record’s producer, former Rolling Stone Editor Timothy Ferris, insisted to Sagan and Frank Drake that it be included.
They quoted Kierkegaard, who had once written: “Mozart enters that small immortal band whose names, whose works, time will not forget, for they are remembered in eternity.”
With Voyager, they felt honored to make that truer than ever. ~ Excerpt: Page 249, 250 (The World Without us – Alan Weisman)
Fortunately for us, the silence from Outer Space is deafening. Yes, out there are billions of galaxies with billion of stars. Out there must be some transmitters as well, but not many, and they won’t last long. Probably there are no others in our galaxy, and surely none within hundreds of light years of us. …. For practical purposes, we’re unique and alone in the crowded universe, Thank God. ~ Page 215 (Excerpt from "The Third Chimpanzee by Jared Diamond)
Attached to its outer cover, Pioneer carries a plaque as a message to other intelligent life. In addition to explaining the location of our planet in the galaxy, it shows a drawing of a man and a woman. They are naked, and the man has his hand raised in a friendly gesture of welcome. Critically, there is no writing on the plaque, no mention of countries or politicians, no description of religions or material wealth. As the first 'hello' from our species to life beyond our planet, we chose to emphasize our biological essence.
Pioneer can be seen as a metaphor for the future. Its last feeble radio signal, travelling at the speed of light, took nearly twelve hours to reach earth. . . . . By the time it reaches Aldebaran system, the length of time that will have elapsed since its launch will be similar to that separating us from our ancestor Homo erectus. Human culture will have changed enormously, but we -- assuming we are still around -- will still be defined by our biology. There is a lesson in this: at the present critical point in human history, where we have the tools to begin to solve some of the problems set in motion by the Neolithic Revolution, saving ourselves will mean accepting human nature, not suppressing it. It will mean reassessing our cultural emphasis on expansion, acquisition, and perfectibility. It will mean learning from peoples that retain a link back to the way we lived for virtually our entire evolutionary history. And it might allow us to stick around for the next two million years. ~ Page 210
We should be worried. The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence, or SETI, has been under way for decades, and new wave of science has shown that our galaxy may be far more hospitable to life than we first suspected. Yet we have found nothing. . . . Page 277 Excerpt: "End Times" Bryan Welsh - author
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