Greetings, Mars! I bring you gifts!
NEW SCIENTIST has a piece of Mars, but not for much longer. In May we offered readers the chance to win a genuine scrap of the Red Planet: 1.7 grams of meteorite NWA 2975, to be precise. All you had to do was tell us in 140 characters or fewer what you think the first person to set foot on Mars should say.
This meteorite doesnāt have quite as colourful a story as the pieces of the Dhofar 1180 Lunar meteorite that Michael Farmer collected in Oman, before spending two months in prison there for his troubles, accused of illegal mining (see page 28). It is thought that ours is part of a meteorite that crashed into the desert in Algeria ā hence the North-West Africa designation.
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NWA 2975 has been verified as a piece of Mars by Colin Pillinger and his team at the UKās Open University, who detected pockets of gas matching the Martian atmosphere inside it and a signature excess of the isotope oxygen-17 (21 May, p 38).
We received 3592 entries for the competition. One frequent theme was expressed in 54 variations on āOne small step for woman, one giant leap for humankindā. Another six entries had the epoch-making phrase in Chinese. Veronica White from the UK had a female Chinese taikonaut (astronaut) combine the two themes. There were half a dozen variations on āEat your heart out, Neil Armstrongā and as many grammatical corrections of Armstrongās 1969 lunar announcement.
We liked many of the more offbeat entries: Noelia Sanchez Gonzalez from Spain, one of our runners-up, suggests āToto, I donāt think weāre in Kansas anymore.ā Ken McGowan from Canada, also a runner-up, had āNow, for the first time in history, there is a face on Marsā and runner-up Paul Leese from South Africa offered āThat was a helluva simulation Houston. Whereās the exit door?ā
Then there were entries rather looking forward to changing the face of the planet, such as US resident Martin Bancroftās earthy āA small release of methane from a human, a giant step towards terraforming this planet for humankind.ā
After a huge judging effort, we declare Richard Robinson the winner, with āGreetings, Mars residents! I bring you gifts. One thousand million assorted bacteria! Enjoy!ā
Learning of his victory, Richard responds: āWell, Iām over the moon. Possibly even farther afield than that. Is it possible to be āoverā Mars?ā
A director of the Brighton Science Festival in the UK (), Richard already has āa collection of interesting bits of rock, including a lump I picked up on a walk in the Derbyshire Peak District which I thought was fossilised wood, but turned out to be stromatolite: my bacterial forebears.ā
A piece of Mars is on its way to Richard, and Ā鶹“«Ć½ mugs go to the nine runners-up, not all of whom weāve had space to mention here.
āThe lift in Glynis Langleyās hotel in Havana, Cuba, displayed a sign insisting āChildren Must Travel With An Accompanistā. She would have preferred to hear their voices a capellaā
ON TO other matters, and another in our series about gestures and their meanings (28 May). Alan Russell says thereās one that he hasnāt seen or made for years. It means āHavenāt I done well!ā, or, in the US, āDidnāt I do well!ā. It consists of loosely closing the right fist, bringing the middle finger joints to the mouth and breathing on them, then using them to rub your left lapel.
Feedback, too, can remember this gesture and we join Alan in asking: āWhat exactly was it on oneās lapel that needed rubbing?ā
READERS Tom McCudden and Philip Hanser report seeing road signs in Connecticut saying āNo permitted loads allowedā and āPermitted loads NOT allowedā. Neither was able to photograph these signs, but Tom sends us a photo of a similar sign that he found on the web. This one says āNo permitted trucks allowedā (see ).
āSo presumably trucks or loads that are not permitted are allowed,ā he speculates. He goes on to provide a possible explanation. āāPermittedā, in this case,ā he suggests, āmeans requiring a special permit because, for example, a hazardous cargo is being carried.ā
Ah. Of course.
MEANWHILE, a lovely photo arrives from Richard Bending showing a road sign declaring firmly āKeep rightā in green letters on a light green background and equally firmly pointing to the left.
But, our inner pedant objects, that design is in contravention of the , adopted into European Union law by on road infrastructure safety management. The sign should be white on blue.
Richard explains, disappointingly for theorists of quantum or otherwise confused signage, that the sign is at the exit to a campsite, near Saint-Quentin in northern France, used by many left-driving English.