N165 is the (un)luckiest bit of basalt on Mars. Which is saying something because there is a lot of basalt on Mars.
Meet the most boring rock in the world. It's probably basalt, an igneous rock, which makes it like many, many other rocks and pebbles all over the world.
What makes it interesting is that the world in question is Mars, and this random little piece of stone happens to be sitting near the Mars Curiosity rover on the floor of the Gale crater.
And, N165, as it is being temporarily called, also happens to have a nice, flat face that happens to be in the range of the rover's laser.
That all makes this poor little guy a perfect test rock for everyone's favorite Martian robot to fire upon. The rover is going to fire 30 laser bursts over 10 seconds, capturing the light generated by the tiny bit of plasma that the laser will create with each blast. Each element (e.g.oxygen) and rock (e.g. basalt) has a distinctive signature that the ChemCam can detect. This spectrographic technique is fast and will be deployed thousands of times on Mars.
What do they expect to find when they blast a tiny hole in N165? Well, not much. "We didn't pick it for its science value per se," said Roger Wiens, the ChemCam principal investigator.
They already think they know, in fact, what they're looking at in this small rock. "If I were to make my guesses, I would probably guess this is a typical Mars basalt," Wiens continued. "Basaltic rocks making up a large percentage of all the igneous rocks on Mars or maybe even all of them... So basalts typically have 48 percent silicon dioxide, and percent amounts of iron, calcium, magnesium, potassium oxides, as well. We're not really expecting any surprises."
Yup, this really is just another rock. On Mars.
(Coda: perhaps the most disappointing thing about travel to outer space is that all the same rules apply. Like, it turns out that the laws of the universe are the laws of the universe. And deep down, don't we all just wish that we would go to Mars and suddenly *everything* would be different. On the other hand, it's only the stability of physical laws across these vast distances that allows us to study and understand planets and galaxies and the geology of Mars. So maybe it's a wash.)
Most presidents view inaugural addresses as a rare opportunity to appeal beyond “the base.” This was base-only.
For my sins, I have read every U.S. presidential inaugural address ever given, and played a small part in writing one of them—Jimmy Carter’s, delivered 40 years ago today.
The first one I remember hearing, John F. Kennedy’s in 1961, I saw on a fuzzy black-and-white TV from my 7th-grade American history classroom in California. The arctic conditions that day in Washington practically radiated through the TV screen. I remember seeing the revered 87-year-old poet Robert Frost hunch against the wind and squint in the low-sun glare as he tried to read the special inaugural ode he had composed. Then Richard Nixon, just defeated by Kennedy in a hair’s-breadth race, reached across to block the glare with his top hat. Frost waved him off and began reciting from memory one of his best-known poems, “The Gift Outright.”
Donald Trump will take the oath of office on Friday, becoming the 45th president of the United States.
Donald Trump takes the oath of office on Friday, to become the 45th president of the United States.
The day’s inaugural festivities will get underway in the morning and continue through Saturday. The swearing-in ceremony, which will take place outside of the Capitol, is expected to begin at 11:30 a.m., followed by an inaugural parade at 3 p.m. and inaugural balls in the evening.
Thousands of attendees are expected to descend on Washington, DC for the ceremonies, which will likely be met with celebration and protest. We’ll bring you the latest updates from the nation’s capital as events unfold. Also see our continuing coverage:
From the nosebleed section of the National Mall, Donald Trump’s supporters watched his inauguration with high hopes for his presidency.
Friday’s inauguration ceremony was the calm after the storm.
The crowd on Washington, D.C.’s National Mall could have easily turned into one last Trump campaign rally, with thousands of red-topped supporters screaming for their leader and boo-hissing any Democrat spotted on the Jumbotrons.
But the mood inside the security barricades was affable, a byproduct, perhaps, of collective exhaustion from the hassle of navigating through security lines. Or perhaps Trump’s supporters simply realized they didn’t need to shout anymore. After all, they’d already won.
“I feel amazing. I feel like this is Christmas,” Josh Hammaker, a Trump voter from Calvert County, Maryland, told me in the minutes before the ceremony began. Hammaker considers himself a Democrat, but broke for Trump in November. “This is the best day of my life.” Or, at least, “one of ‘em. We’re finally getting our country back.”
Commentators love to praise the peaceful handover of power—but this year, it stands as a reminder of the system’s fragility and shortcomings.
Every presidency is different, but inaugural coverage is always the same. Commentators congratulate Americans on the peaceful transition of power and intone solemn sentences about democratic renewal.
There is something unnerving about these reassurances, something overstated, even hysterical. When a British prime minister loses the confidence of the House of Commons and must suddenly trundle out of 10 Downing Street (as some six dozen of them have done since the job was invented in the 1740s; a few more than once), nobody marvels on television how wonderful it is that he or she doesn’t try to retain power by force of arms. Nobody in Denmark thinks it extraordinary when one party relinquishes power to another. Ditto New Zealand or Switzerland—all of them treat peaceful transfers of power as the developed world norm, like reliable electricity or potable water.
A history of the first African American White House—and of what came next
In the waning days of President Barack Obama’s administration, he and his wife, Michelle, hosted a farewell party, the full import of which no one could then grasp. It was late October, Friday the 21st, and the president had spent many of the previous weeks, as he would spend the two subsequent weeks, campaigning for the Democratic presidential nominee, Hillary Clinton. Things were looking up. Polls in the crucial states of Virginia and Pennsylvania showed Clinton with solid advantages. The formidable GOP strongholds of Georgia and Texas were said to be under threat. The moment seemed to buoy Obama. He had been light on his feet in these last few weeks, cracking jokes at the expense of Republican opponents and laughing off hecklers. At a rally in Orlando on October 28, he greeted a student who would be introducing him by dancing toward her and then noting that the song playing over the loudspeakers—the Gap Band’s “Outstanding”—was older than she was.
On January 20, 2017, the peaceful transfer of American power took place in Washington, DC, as Barack Obama, passed the office to Donald J. Trump.
On January 20, 2017, the peaceful transfer of American power took place in Washington, DC, as the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama passed the office to President-elect Donald J. Trump. Hundreds of thousands attended the ceremony, gathering in the National Mall to hear the swearing in and Trump’s inaugural address, while groups of protesters clashed with police in some of Washington’s streets. President Trump, Vice President Mike Pence, and their wives then bid farewell to former President Obama and his wife, as the Obamas headed to Air Force One for one last flight.
After a promising debut last fall, NBC’s quirky, metaphysical comedy enjoyed a terrific first season—only to brilliantly upend its entire premise in the final episode.
When NBC’s The Good Place premiered last September, even early fans seemed uncertain of its future. It was, after all, a non-workplace sitcom with an unusually ambitious premise: A woman named Eleanor (Kristen Bell) dies and finds herself in a non-denominational heaven reserved for only those who led the most selfless and ethical of lives. The problem is she was a terrible person on earth who ended up in the so-called “good place” by mistake, so to avoid being sent to “the bad place,” she hides her identity and tries to become a better person in the afterlife.
My colleague David Sims praised the show’s debut but wondered how the story’s apparent plottiness would work in a genre that tends to be more episodic:
The Senate confirmed the first two members of the new president’s administration: James Mattis as defense secretary and John Kelly as homeland security secretary.
Updated on January 20, 2017 at 6:29 p.m. ET
President Trump has the first two members of his Cabinet confirmed: Defense Secretary James Mattis and Homeland Security Secretary John Kelly.
The Senate overwhelmingly voted to approve both men for their posts late Friday afternoon, hours after Trump took the oath of office. But to the consternation of Republicans, the Senate stopped there.
Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell had pushed Democrats to agree to confirm a third member of Trump’s national-security team, Representative Mike Pompeo as CIA director. Democrats, however, refused to allow a vote on Friday, and after a brief negotiation, McConnell agreed to push it back until Monday.
Trump begins his presidency with the most skeletal administration in nearly three decades. The Senate confirmed seven of President George W. Bush and Barack Obama’s nominees on their first day in office in 2001 and 2009, respectively. President Bill Clinton won approval of three nominees on January 20, 1993. The Trump transition got off to a slow start vetting its nominees after the election, and Democrats are demanding more scrutiny and debate for most of his picks.
He’s moved to establish his dominance of his party, of Congress, and of the media. Now, he turns to the nation.
Even for some Republicans, it is still a bit unbelievable. They have it all now—all the power. They won it fair and square. Donald Trump is assuming the presidency, and Republicans control the House and Senate.
They streamed into Washington this week to collect their reward, the activists and party hacks and true believers who helped make it happen. The members of the Republican National Committee, representing every state and territory, gathered in the ornate, slightly dowdy ballrooms of Washington’s Omni Shoreham hotel, where they took care of the party’s business between being feted at lunches, receptions, and inaugural balls. The mood was jubilant: Against all odds, after years of frustration, everything they worked for had come to pass.