Seeing Stars

When I was a boy (many, many years ago), I was occasionally able to visit London because my aunt and uncle lived there. I invariably went to visit the Science Museum in Kensington (it was free) and I usually managed to have enough money to pay for a ticket to the London Planetarium. This was always a magical place to me. Sitting in the dark, apparently watching the night skies wheel and turn above me. When the lights went up, there was the alien-looking machine in the centre of the room that created all this magic – the Zeiss projector. I’m sure these visits to the London Planetarium fanned my interest in astronomy. Later, when I was studying electrical engineering at Liverpool University, I took a summer job at the Liverpool Museum, where I wound up operating the machinery of the small planetarium that had recently been opened in it. I was as happy as a pig in clover. 

 

I mention all this, because today I learned that the bastards of Madame Tussaud’s (who own the London Planetarium) have decided to close down the planetarium and use the space to stuff in yet more waxworks of "celebrities". As the Guardian sorrowfully says today: "takings at the till triumph over educational enrichment". 

 

Society’s obsession with the wrong sort of "stars" is going too far, I tell you. It amazes me that, given the choice between the majesty and infinite mysteries of the heavens on the one hand, and the trivialities of Posh and Becks and Hello magazine on the other, that so many people choose the latter without a second thought. Perhaps I’m just turning into a misanthrope.

 

I suppose that I can take some crumb of comfort from the fact that, even if the London Planetarium is closing, there are still plenty of planetaria left to visit in Europe.