Today, we join @MLB in recognizing #LouGehrigDay.
Together, we honor Lou Gehrig’s legacy, raise awareness for ALS and support those impacted by the disease 💙
Astronaut Victor Glover reflects on Easter and the beauty of Creation from space.
“We have this beautiful place that we get to exist together…As we go into Easter Sunday…[I see] this as an opportunity to think about where are, who we are and that we’re all the same thing.”
This is the shot you can’t get from the press site. This camera was sitting a few football fields from the SLS rocket at Pad 39B for days before launch, baking in the Florida sun, surviving rain, humidity, and whatever else the Cape threw at it. No photographer behind the viewfinder. Just a camera, a sound trigger, and a bet.
The way pad remotes work: you set your camera up days in advance, dial in your composition, lock everything down, and walk away. You don’t touch it again until after the launch. The shutter fires on sound activation
with a @MiopsTrigger smart+ trigger. With SLS, the four RS-25 engines ignite six seconds before the solid rocket boosters, so the camera is already firing before the vehicle even leaves the pad. You get home, pull the card, and find out if you nailed it or if a bird landed on your lens two days ago and left your a present and you got 400 photos of soemthing crappy.
There’s no formula for protecting your gear this close. Some photographers build wooden boxes with doors that pop open. Some use plastic bags and tape. Some do plastic or metal barn door rigs on hinges. I tend to leave mine open just in plastic rain covers because boxes limit my composition and setup time, but that means your cameras are more exposed to the elements and whatever energy and debris comes off the pad. You’re basically gambling a camera body every time you set one.
That’s what I love about this genre. There’s no playbook. You make it up as you go. Every time is an adventure.
📸 credit: me for @SuperclusterHQ - Artemis II pad remote | ~1,000 ft from Pad 39B | Kennedy Space Center
Seeking information ≠ doing research.
In the internet age, with an unimaginable volume of knowledge literally at our fingertips, it is an ever-present temptation to think that doing a google search or reading an AI summary or listening to a single podcast amounts to “doing research” on a topic or question.
Research is a necessarily slow, even monotonous task. By contrast, Google search is engineered to give you the most-clicked on options right away. Your social media algorithms (including Substack) are designed to feed you bias-confirming content. AI is slanted towards the mean of human thought and debate rather than the frontiers of new contributions and knowledge creation. Wikipedia articles are intended to be widely and easily digestible (and they are often dead wrong on all sorts of things).
If you want to learn – really learn – more about something, assume ahead of time that it’s going to be hard. Decide that you’re going to let yourself be challenged by ideas you don’t like or that you’re tempted to dismiss out of hand.
What are the very best reasons to disagree with the position you are inclined to affirm? Get inside those arguments. Listen to the best representatives of those perspectives. Read at least as many voices you disagree with as you read voices you agree with. Spend more than 15 minutes; spend hours, days, weeks, years.
Then – and only then – should you possibly dare to claim that you’ve “done your own research” on the topic.
“The Lord foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations.”
Psalms 33:10-11 NIV https://t.co/VEKnbqkTqi
Friends-
This is a tough note to write, but since a bunch of you have started to suspect something, I’ll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die.
Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it’s a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do.
I’m blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, “Sure, you’re on the clock, but we’re all on the clock.” Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all.
Still, I’ve got less time than I’d prefer. This is hard for someone wired to work and build, but harder still as a husband and a dad. I can’t begin to describe how great my people are. During the past year, as we’d temporarily stepped back from public life and built new family rhythms, Melissa and I have grown even closer — and that on top of three decades of the best friend a man could ever have. Seven months ago, Corrie was commissioned into the Air Force and she’s off at instrument and multi-engine rounds of flight school. Last week, Alex kicked butt graduating from college a semester early even while teaching gen chem, organic, and physics (she’s a freak). This summer, 14-year-old Breck started learning to drive. (Okay, we’ve been driving off-book for six years — but now we’ve got paper to make it street-legal.) I couldn’t be more grateful to constantly get to bear-hug this motley crew of sinners and saints.
There’s not a good time to tell your peeps you’re now marching to the beat of a faster drummer — but the season of advent isn’t the worst. As a Christian, the weeks running up to Christmas are a time to orient our hearts toward the hope of what’s to come.
Not an abstract hope in fanciful human goodness; not hope in vague hallmark-sappy spirituality; not a bootstrapped hope in our own strength (what foolishness is the evaporating-muscle I once prided myself in). Nope — often we lazily say “hope” when what we mean is “optimism.” To be clear, optimism is great, and it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s insufficient. It’s not the kinda thing that holds up when you tell your daughters you’re not going to walk them down the aisle. Nor telling your mom and pops they’re gonna bury their son.
A well-lived life demands more reality — stiffer stuff. That’s why, during advent, even while still walking in darkness, we shout our hope — often properly with a gravelly voice soldiering through tears.
Such is the calling of the pilgrim. Those who know ourselves to need a Physician should dang well look forward to enduring beauty and eventual fulfillment. That is, we hope in a real Deliverer — a rescuing God, born at a real time, in a real place. But the eternal city — with foundations and without cancer — is not yet.
Remembering Isaiah’s prophecies of what’s to come doesn’t dull the pain of current sufferings. But it does put it in eternity’s perspective:
“When we've been there 10,000 years…We've no less days to sing God's praise.”
I’ll have more to say. I’m not going down without a fight. One sub-part of God’s grace is found in the jawdropping advances science has made the past few years in immunotherapy and more. Death and dying aren’t the same — the process of dying is still something to be lived. We’re zealously embracing a lot of gallows humor in our house, and I’ve pledged to do my part to run through the irreverent tape.
But for now, as our family faces the reality of treatments, but more importantly as we celebrate Christmas, we wish you peace: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned….For to us a son is given” (Isaiah 9).
With great gratitude, and with gravelly-but-hopeful voices,
Ben — and the Sasses
Pete Rose shares tons of baseball knowledge with A-Rod and Frank Thomas. It’s a 6 minute video, but I promise you, it’s the best thing you’ll see about Pete Rose today.
#RIPPeteRose
As it's Friday, I'm asking all my followers to please retweet (and comment) on this post if you see it, to help my bird account be seen!🙏😊
To make it worth sharing, here's a little Blue Tit about to dunk into a puddle? 😁😍🐦
Thank you very much everyone! ♥️
As it's Friday, I'm asking all my followers to please retweet this tweet if you see it, to help my little bird account beat the algorithm & be seen!🙏
To make it worth sharing, here's a Goldfinch in cherry blossom! 😍
Thank you so much! 😊🐦
#FridayRetweetPlease ♥️
Congratulations to Ewan Wells, Justin Ternet, and Molly Reasner on an outstanding performance with the 2024 Indiana All-State Honors Choir! These students were selected to represent DeKalb High School in a choir of 257 choral singers. Outstanding job Barons!
#WeAreDeKalb
Penelope Reasner performed in the IMEA Elementary State Honors Choir this weekend at the Embassy Theater! Penelope submitted an audition in October and was selected to be a part of the prestigious 140 singer group of students from all across the state of Indiana.
🚨 GIVEAWAY 🚨
We're giving away Dr. @NadyaWilliams81's new @ZonderAcademic book, "Cultural Christians in the Early Church!"
Follow and Retweet to enter.
Winner announced tonight at 6 PM PST!