I have a couple solar masses and a few milligrams of negative mass/energy sitting around. Anyone wanna go into the backyard, have a few beers, and experiment on the cat?
The Alcubierre drive, also known as the Alcubierre metric or Warp Drive, is a speculative mathematical model of a spacetime exhibiting features reminiscent of the fictional “warp drive” from Star Trek, which can travel “faster than light“, although not in a local sense.
In 1994, the Mexican physicist Miguel Alcubierre proposed a method of stretching space in a wave which would in theory cause the fabric of space ahead of a spacecraft to contract and the space behind it to expand.[1] The ship would ride this wave inside a region known as a warp bubble of flat space. Since the ship is not moving within this bubble, but carried along as the region itself moves, conventional relativistic effects such as time dilation do not apply in the way they would in the case of a ship moving at high velocity through flat spacetime relative to other objects.
Read more about the Alcubierre Warp Drive on Wikipedia.
Tags: sci fi, science fiction, Star Trek, warp drive, wikipedia
My Uncle Bobby Wheels was a big fan of the ‘Dream Cruise’, the annual parade of muscle cars down Woodward Avenue, the M-1 in Detroit. The Lareau family would get together and watch some of Detroit’s finest models and achievements come rolling down the street.
In honor of my very geeky uncle, who passed away this week, I’ve written a short science-fiction story that I think he would have liked. Dream Cruise in space?
Read the full short story here.
Tags: detroit, dream cruise, Family, science fiction, short story, wheels
So, there are a couple pretty exciting updates coming your way this month on The New Mirador:
I’m also pleased and proud to announce two new contributors to The New Mirador: a horror story writer and an emerging artist and photographer!
Tags: artwork, Avatar, bloggery, business, contributors, drawing, Mirador, movie review, photography, science fiction, short story, website design, website development
This week, I wrapped up watching Season 1 of the Farscape series on Netflix online. I originally saw Farscape back in my high school days, on the few random times I was in front of the television and not the computer. Between 1998 and 2002, the SciFi channel pumped out what may be its best series–ever. I do not say that lightly, but I feel that Farscape encompasses and surpasses so much other work that SciFi (or SyFy, whatever) has done.
With a dizzying cast of characters–friends and enemies, aliens and creatures, some shifting between the definitions throughout an episode or the series–Farscape is brought vividly to life by the geniuses at The Jim Henson Company. I remember reading something somewhere that the average episode cost for Farscape was $1 million an episode. And justifiably so–the sets are amazing and believable, the puppets are lifelike and brilliant, the actors and actresses are in perfect makeup and clothing. The writing, though, is where the series really shines–bringing multiple characters together, clashing them together across a space opera setting, and making you fall in love with them.

The characters, deeply and richly painted, come alive in a universe where self-interest and self-preservation govern all.
John Crichton is an astronaut of the future, testing out his new space module for its potential to travel to Mars and beyond. But, randomly and strangely, he is shot through a wormhole to a distant part of the universe (or really close part of the universe, but, the matter is that he has no way of knowing or getting home). He encounters (by crashing into) a human-like species called the Peacekeepers that are trying to arrest a living ship, called Moya, and her cargo of three prisoners: a mystical and sensual priestess, a stubborn and proud warrior, and a domineering and brash deposed royal. Crichton’s crash results in the death of the brother of a high-ranking commander, who is soon chasing after him with all the power at his command. Joining him in the first episode is an “irrevocably contaminated” Peacekeeper soldier, Aeryn Sun, who must unlearn the ways of her Peacekeeper days…and relearn her compassion and hope. Many other characters join this odyssey across the stars–a sneaky burglar, an adolescent alien, a tortured healer, an elderly potioneer, a cagey academic, and a vicious princess–but the writing never stops putting them in situations where they must grow, learn, and rely on each other in many ways.
One of the most unique things about Farscape is that the ship they are on is a living ship–it has opinions and emotions just like any member of the crew. If it doesn’t want to go somewhere, then the characters do not go; this ship, also, is unarmed, limiting the solutions that the characters can bring to bear on a situation, and always preferring flight over fight. As the audience grows to trust the characters, so do they learn to trust the ship and one another–and as they surmount even the most impossible situations, you find yourself enjoying and laughing along, or tearing up when one of the characters departs or faces loss. The exceptional acting–especially by the five original cast members–is noteworthy in science fiction. Oftentimes, the crisis that the characters face are very personal and very wrenching. This is very unlike the rinse-and-repeat concept from Star Trek or the high-minded and inaccessible ideals of Star Wars. This is science fiction in your face.
I have finished Season 1 and am relishing the idea of Season 2. I even daresay I am enjoying this more than Battlestar: Galactica. I might even buy this series proudly and watch it with the roommates.
Grade: A+
Tags: Farscape, science fiction, SciFi, Syfy
These days, it’s hard for me to come by a really good read, something that sweeps me off my feet and makes me forget what hour of the day it is. Books like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter still accomplish this effortlessly, transporting me to the lives and dilemmas of otherworldly characters.
So when R. Scott Bakker’s books, starting with the Prince of Nothing series, was said to be on par to Tolkien’s peerless work, I was skeptical at first. And the first time I stepped into his world of Earwa–a messy, smelly glut of humanity book, taking place from the point of view of a prostitute, a plains warrior, a hapless sorceror, and an over-pious general–it was unfamiliar. The characters, definitely, were very strongly written, but it took some time for me to really build my stake in the book.
When I finally was onboard, I went for the whole ride. The Prince of Nothing trilogy takes so many conventions of high fantasy and turns them around: instead of laying out the basic principles of the world and nothing more, he walks you throughthe philosophical underpinnings through the conversations of his characters. He portrays the main characters as being all-too-human, with their own frailties and jealousies and hatreds (with one notable exception). You’ll find that the characters you love will sometimes do things you disagree or despise, and yet you love them all the more, like a wayward sibling.

The Judging Eye
The Judging Eye, the latest installment and the newest entry in the second trilogy, takes off twenty years after the First Holy War, where the polytheistic followers of Inri Sejenus have conquered their foes, the monotheistic Fanim, and almost the entire southern half of the world. However, their Holy War was ‘derailed’ by Anasurimbor Kellhus, a member of a monastic, ascetic order of warriors. Kellhus is a human being bred and trained over centuries for reflexes, strength, speed, and intelligence. He ‘corrupted’ the leaders of the First Holy War, turning the entire army into a vast tool of his to conquer the world. Now, twenty years later, Kellhus is the Aspect-Emperor, the greatest conqueror in history. He now turns the Holy War to the north of the world, overrun with sickening abominations and creatures, leftovers from wars a thousand years before. His goal: to prevent the next Apocalypse and destroy the armies of beasts before they organize under the horrific No-God.
Save for the hapless, feckless sorceror, Drusas Achamian. Exiled by his School, as well as by the Holy War and his peers, and finally by his wife (who is now with Kellhus), Achamian begins a trek across the world to look for evidence of Kellhus’ monastic order. He is joined by Mimara, his possible daughter, who has both the gift of sorcery like him, but the added curse of the Judging Eye. Through her eyes, she sees the world as the gods intended: she sees sin and holiness, damnation and salvation, like they were everyday objects and auras around us. She joins Achamian in his journey, begging for him to teach her his powerful magic; Achamian resists, because the touch of magic damns a person to endless torment in Hell.
The story also brings into play many other characters–a leader of the Cult of Yatwer, who believes her power and the power of Yatwer are diminishing because of Kellhus–a young king of a nation conquered by Kellhus in his quest to travel north–the murderous children of Kellhus and their wheelings and dealings in the palace–and finally, the mysterious Cleric Incariol, a powerful Non-man (read: Elven) character who may or may not be who he says he is.
The book ends with a vast, stunning homage to Tolkien’s writing–when I first read it, I was dismayed and thought it would be a weak ending to a good book–but the entire trip through the vast, underground city of Cil-Aujas is stunning and more than stands on its own two feet. Bakker’s own trip through Moria is unique, powerful, and filled with amazing adventure.
Bakker’s ability to mix horror, power, love, mystery and damnation in such equal measures, and still write with an almost poetic effectiveness, makes him easily one of the best fantasy authors I have ever read. Bakker stands next to Tolkien, Rowling, and Reynolds as one of my favorite authors of all time.
Grade: A+
Tags: books, fantasy, literature, science fiction, writing