priligy generico

Is That Lipstick On The Doll’s Head? Part Six: Colour My World











On Wednesday, 13 December 1972 at approximately 3:58 GMT on a balmy 102 degree afternoon, the sun burnt down from the unrelenting obsidian sky, casting the lunar landscape in hard shadow. Approaching from a South-Easterly direction across the rolling achromatic hills of Taurus-Littrow, Apollo 17 Mission Commander Eugene Andrew Cernan and Harrison Hagen (Jack) Schmitt finally arrived at their ‘collision course with an even more unbelievable and mysterious destiny’ – a spot lying in the shadow of the Lincoln Scarp and the North Massif officially labelled Geology Station 4 but soon to enter the popular vernacular as Shorty Crater.

spaceepic01Clambering from the Lunar Rover, Cernan and Schmitt quickly set about tending to a few essential ‘housecleaning’ chores, as their rover ride over some of the more hummocky portions of the valley had kicked up a considerable bit of dust which needed to be wiped off their equipment before their truly remarkable Rendezvous With Drama could begin. Having neither seen nor adequately photographed (nor even bothered to comment at all upon) the dizzyingly vast invisible entrance that didn’t lead into the absolutely imaginary gigantic artificiality of the South Massif ‘arcology,’ these two intrepid explorers were definitely fully prepared for what was to come.

spaceepic02As they finalised their station prep, Jack Schmitt, still near the rover, promptly noted that, close to an enormous boulder on the rim of Shorty there was a large section of orange-coloured soil.

Excited by this find, as any professional geologist naturally would be, Schmitt began taking numerous samples, digging a trench to determine the depth of the colouration and to contrast the surface discovery with the deeper and undisturbed layers of regolith. Meanwhile, Gene Cernan took a series of colour photographs to document the find.

It would later be determined, once the samples had been returned to Earth and fully analysed, that the soil was ‘of basaltic debris’ mixed with fine-grained orange and black volcanic glass containing approximately 8% titanium or, more specifically, TiO2, or Titanium Dioxide. As a comprehensive analysis of the lunar regolith material falls beyond the pale of this discussion, I might recommend some light reading directly from NASA itself or (if you don’t trust such a clearly biased organisation) from the University of Wisconsin-Madison course notes for the Fusion Technology Institute, or perhaps the more breezy Feldspathic Mare Basalts paper from Cardiff University which tell you everything you could possibly ever need or want to know about lunar samples. At present it is only pertinent that we understand the basics.

In the richly periphrastic pages of Dark Mission, Richard C Hoagland, founder of The Enterprise Mission, recipient of an Angstrom Medal, former science advisor to CBS News and Walter Cronkite, author of The Monuments of Mars, co-creator of the Pioneer Plaque, originator of the Europa Proposal, and principal investigator of The Enterprise Mission implores us to believe that:

…there was plenty of evidence all around these two obviously awe-inspired astronauts that areas in the vicinity of the Lander were artificial…but now in ruins.


And though it is not overtly stated in the text, the inference is that the so called ‘totally melted and oxidized titanium’ was (or is) somehow directly linked not only to all of the Obvious Mechanical Debris scattered hither and thither everywhere the ‘obviously awe-inspired astronauts’ went, but also to the composition of all of the ‘artificial buildings,’ and of course to the doll’s head.

as17-137-20995-detailYes the orange soil contained Titanium. However, the tiniest, barest minimum of cross-referencing shows us that titanium is a corrosion-resistant element. So the idea that this is ‘heavily’ oxidised (that is rusted or corroded) titanium is a bit of a reach. If you followed the link you will note that the most common form of titanium is titanium dioxide (and for you chemically minded individuals that means it has two atoms of oxygen), which is what was discovered in the lunar soil samples, and it is sometimes used in the production of white pigments. It is also used in cat litter to remove odour.

I feel that in Dark Mission we are being asked to believe that this area was some ancient lunar smelting station, or that everything in sight is made of titanium.  At the very least it seems we are being given the idea, albeit indirectly, that along with all of the other Obvious Mechanical Debris there is a vast field, one would guess, of unalloyed titanium fragments spread rusting in the smouldering sunlight on the desolate (and airless, by the way) lunar plains – the last vestiges of a devastating explosion or some other cataclysmic event.

The truth is, as previously noted, titanium dioxide is a relatively common element – the seventh most abundant element known, so I’ve read – and often found in many rocks or even in beach sand. The fine-grained orange and black ‘titanium-rich’ glass was formed, as most geological analysis agree, through standard volcanic activity some 3 to 4 billion years ago and was then dug out and deposited in its current position when Shorty Crater was formed (later) during a meteoric impact.

If, however, the orange and black glass discovered by Jack Schmitt were indeed little bits of metal scattered widely about from the presumably apocalyptic devastation visited upon a prior civilisation, then one would have to start examining everything in the area for some form of context. You remember the discussion on context, don’t you?

Thankfully nothing changes very rapidly on the lunar surface. No air, no wind, no rain to wash away and make new; just the periodic meteor impact to scoop out new holes and splatter regolith everywhere. So where is the context? This isn’t like driving along a highway and seeing part of a blown tyre or a single ragged trainer cast forlornly onto the berm. And if it was, one would still expect there to be – barring further massive impacts on the lunar surface – some sort of context. There would still be bits of road, perhaps an old mile-marker, some vague indication that there was once some type of intelligent design at work. There would be something to elevate the nature of the region – the essential form – from the randomness of chance. There would be, to use a HOGWASH term, a ‘rectilinear arrangement.’

Rather, there is a giant crater with a rock in it that looks slightly like a doll’s head and mile after mile of rolling grey and quite desolate valley floor.

Hoagland wants us to believe that there is artificiality on the lunar surface everywhere one turns, but there is absolutely no context of any kind to support such an argument. As an example, here on Earth, from the air, we can determine that a place like Machu Picchu, in Peru, is an artificial construct because it stands out, even after hundreds of years of sitting unoccupied, as being thoroughly unlike its natural surroundings…


And it looks more artificial still the closer one gets to it because closer proximity reveals further detail, further evidence, and, as such, more context. And the more context an area has when compared to its surroundings, the stronger the case for likely artificiality. One can quickly determine the shapes of buildings, homes, temples, the layout of streets, stairs, and passages and understand that these were very probably not created by natural geologic forces in one isolated spot some 8000 feet above the Urubamba Valley. In the midst of the lush and thriving environment of the Peruvian highlands (which often tend to reclaim with alarming rapidity the fastidious labours of humankind) it continues to maintain an overwhelming sense of artificiality.


Not so Taurus-Littrow.

Floating above this enormous mountain-ringed valley, one sees it as flat and grey with hundreds of craters spotting the landscape. But once you start getting closer to the surface, it begins to look amazingly flat and grey with hundreds of craters spotting the landscape. Except that, at surface level, your sense of scale and distance is thrown off by the generally colourless expanse of regolith. And it certainly doesn’t help one’s sense of disorientation that the sun is shining brightly in an ink black sky.


As an example of this disorienting nature so often commented upon by Apollo astronauts, compare an image of Shorty Crater taken on approach to an assembled panorama where its full scale can be judged. I believe you can get a good sense of just how terribly your depth perception is effected on the moon.

In Dark Mission, we are told, however, that the published images (and the available television footage) of the lunar landscape taken during the Apollo 17 mission do not match the descriptions provided by Schmitt and Cernan. In proof of this, Hoagland points to a comment from Command Module pilot Ron Evans (the third member of the team who is virtually ignored) where it is stated that, ‘You know, to me the Moon’s got a lot more colour than I’d been led to believe.’

How this statement is supposed to justify Hoagland’s thesis escapes me. The discussion in the text of Dark Mission where this quote is used specifically deals with the ‘crenulations’ commented upon by the astronauts on the surface and how we can’t see them very well – or at all – in the photographs or in the televised footage which, therefore, constitutes conspiracy. The fact that Ron Evans’ colour comment has nothing whatever to do with the ‘crenulations’ and thus no relevance to Hoagland’s argument doesn’t stop him making it seem as though these features were at the forefront of every conversation Schmitt and Cernan had when, in reality, they mention it roughly twice during one EVA.

Though the ‘crenulations’ were discussed in the previous segment, it is worth noting that in July of this year a story appeared in Nature which indicates that the early moon may have had generous amounts of water, but the volcanic glass mentioned in this report (as well as the orange glass of our present discussion) is still consistent with the formation of the moon and not with later vanished civilisation or colonisation. Water on the moon would thrill Hoagland and give credence to his ‘layering model’ for the crenulations and of the ‘completely artificial’ South Massif, but even the Nature article suggests that the water boiled off fairly quickly. And the process by which the moon gained this water is still largely debatable.

ShortyTV-PhotoClumsily clinging to the Ron Evans statement, Hoagland expects us to believe that the television footage from Apollo 17 was better quality than the 70mm still photography taken by Schmitt and Cernan, and he explains this conundrum by stating that NASA have aired substantially improved video footage in recent years on NASA Select TV which then proves his ‘arcology model.’ But again, he offers no visual evidence to support his claim. And the supposed rationale behind this argument is that the ‘new footage,’ as Hoagland calls it, now ‘tends to strongly imply’ that the massifs are ‘in fact “hollow, titanium-glass truss structures.”‘

There is again no explanation as to precisely how he was able to ascertain – from a television image – that a mountain roughly eight miles away from the camera was made of ‘titanium-glass truss structures,’ but I would wager that, if he had one, it would be spectacular. Nay, stunning.

I shouldn’t even need to point out that broadcast television quality itself has vastly improved from 1972, and Mister Obvious wins the ‘Oh Really?’ Award for this nonsensical line of  ‘reasoning.’ Yet he goes on to say that he and Bara were now certain that Apollo 17 had some mysterious connection to George Bush’s 2004 ‘Space Initiative’ and hypothesises that James Garvin (Chief Scientist at NASA, who clearly has nothing better to do with his time that to toy with people) was exhibiting the ‘real data’ on late night NASA TV to see if anyone would notice the ‘tremendous difference in quality’ or to signal to the so-called ‘in-crowd’ that NASA had other intentions behind ‘suddenly’ returning to the Moon.

Go ahead. Laugh. I did.

Hoagland confidently concludes that:

If the Mission of Apollo 17 was to secretly confirm the artificial nature of the Taurus-Littrow Valley, it overwhelmingly accomplished its “hidden mission.”

Just how this ‘hidden mission’ was accomplished isn’t exactly explained, strangely enough, though it all seems to centre on the doll’s head.

hoaglandollheadAs Schmitt and Cernan went about busying themselves with collecting and documenting the orange volcanic soil, staring up at them from the abyss of Shorty Crater – I mean just sitting there in the middle of the hole and in perfectly plain view along with all of the various bits of blatantly Obvious Mechanical Debris and seeming to taunt the two Apollo astronauts with its stunningly total fakeness – sat this ‘artefact.’

To the authors of the beloved American classic Dark Mission, this discovery is tantamount to something like the Holy Grail, or at least one of the other relics Brother Maynard carried with him.

Hoagland states that upon this discovery, ‘As his mind grappled with that incredible possibility’ (that this was a head), he thought back to ‘the kind of “unbelievable” things’ the astronauts had seen during EVA-2, like, you know… well, like all the ‘unbelievable‘ things we haven’t seen or heard yet but which are, as you can well imagine, quite unbelievable indeed.

As evidence of the ‘unbelievable’ artificial objects ‘all around these two obviously awe-inspired astronauts,’ Hoagland points to two of Gene Cernan’s comments, the first, made at Nansen Crater (143:22:08 in the Apollo Surface Journal), as he photographed the South Massif…

‘You know, I look out there, I’m not sure I believe it all…’

…and the other, (nearly 29 minutes later at 143:50:54)…

‘Isn’t that something? Man, you talk about a mysterious looking place!’

…made during the traverse to Station 3 (an area seen in AS17-138-21077 and in the next 15 photographs immediately thereafter).

As I’ve already addressed these statements more fully in Part Five of this review, suffice to say here that they have clearly been taken wildly out of context and have nothing whatever to do with Shorty Crater nor any other ‘unbelievable thing’ seen by the astronauts.

dollshead-C3P0Immediately ignoring this minor difficulty, Hoagland suddenly lunges headlong into the idea, grasped as if by magic from thin air (much like the superhuman ability to see ‘titanium-glass truss structures’ miles from a television camera in a thirty-six year old video), that this must be a robot head. And not just any old robot head, mind you. Oh no. This is just like C3P0!

And, frankly, by now we have caromed so far off of the Yellow Brick Road as to be in danger of smashing into those creepy talking trees as the remainder of the chapter bounces from one crazed supposition to another, all the while never stopping to specifically address or explain just how the ‘Mission of Apollo 17 was to secretly confirm the artificial nature of the Taurus-Littrow Valley’ or precisely how ‘it overwhelmingly accomplished its “hidden mission.”‘

So how is it that we actually arrive at this image described in Dark Mission as having –

indented, stereoscopic, rounded inset eyes.

Camera lenses.

Just like…C3P0

– as Hoagland insists? And how does he determine that the ‘indented’ and ‘inset’ (the same thing, by the way – redundant much?) ‘eyes’ are in fact ‘Camera lenses?’ By taking ‘Composits of other frames,’ of course. Though no explanation is provided as to why a ‘composite’ needed to be done, since virtually all of the doll’s head images are (with the exception of the aforementioned Jack Schmitt panorama) taken from very nearly exactly the same angle. He also fails to state what purpose making a composite serves or bothers mentioning anything about how the composite was accomplished, but it does make it sound to the faithful believers as though he went to extraordinary lengths to produce an image of just exactly what this object isn’t.

Rock-BarfAs an experiment to prove that this ‘enhancement technique’ serves virtually no quantifiable or justifiable purpose in studying the object in question (given the fact that there at least seven other images of it available for research), I chose a random neighbouring rock not too terribly far from the doll’s head, overlaid the same image from four different photographs (AS17-137-20993, 20994, 20995 & 20996, just so you know) and adjusted the opacity and colour balance of the various layers and quickly learnt that Spaceballs was a much bigger and more popular hit that I had previously been lead to believe.

In proving this to be an actual artefact, though, and not just something totally made up through pointless ‘enhancement,’ Hoagland says he soon determined that the doll’s head was roughly the same size as a human head by ‘looking at the context panoramas,’ images which, just so we fully understand this, are composited or pieced together to make a whole image out of fragments.

doll-astronautThough this observation regarding the size of the doll’s head is more or less accurate, I was able to figure out the same thing simply by comparing a copy of the head against an image of Jack Schmitt’s head (or helmet, as the case may be). I did this using Photoshop to cut the doll’s head from frame AS17-137-21000, flip it to face the opposite direction, and paste it on top of an image of Jack Schmitt from frame AS17-137-21010. The reason these frames were chosen is because they were from the same panorama taken by Gene Cernan, and from the same position, so that the distance from the camera to the subjects were the same. It does diminish the importance, I reckon, to just say ‘I compared two different photographs’ as opposed to saying ‘I looked at the context panoramas to confirm the correlation,’ which is much more effluent and sounds way cooler.

And then of course Hoagland advances to the wild supposition that, because the head was roughly human-sized, ‘Cernan and Schmitt could have brought it back.‘ Could have. But didn’t. They could have noticed it in the bottom of the crater, as well, staring lifelessly up at them, because it was scattered amongst a reflective sea of other Obvious Mechanical Debris. But they didn’t. They could have mentioned seeing extremely anomalous objects and a clear indication of ancient wreckage. But they didn’t. Of course I don’t know about either of you, but when travelling anywhere, I always leave room in my luggage for the occasional severed head. Surely NASA are smart enough to think ahead too.

Ha! ‘Ahead.’ Think ahead. Ahe— never mind…

You may have noticed by now that the doll’s head (or even the Barf/Rock) images I’ve used throughout this review do not look very much at all like those used by (or borrowed, where indicated, from) the Enterprise Mission. That is because apart from the periodic need to re-size an image to fit better in the smallish blog space, I have not tampered in any way with the original frames (other than adjusting the colour balance of the aforementioned Barf/Rock) because they are already in colour and I see no special point in manipulating or ‘enhancing’ the data beyond reasonable means.

Though previously addressed, it is worth very briefly repeating that the Apollo 17 astronauts – and in this particular instance regarding the head photography, Gene Cernan – used modified Hasselblad EL cameras and specially made 70mm Kodak Ektachrome MS SO-368 exterior colour reversal (i.e slide) film, ISO/ASA 64.  In case you don’t believe me, feel free to check the Apollo 17 Index for yourself. The reason it was specially formulated was so that the traditional emulsion – typically silver halide salts and sometimes even titanium dioxide (what?) for special usages – would not boil off in the vacuum of space.

And for another helpful photography tip it is good to know that the ‘Film speed required for most general weather photography (clouds, sunset, halos etc) is generally 100 ISO. This is a good trade-off between film speed (slowness, actually), high-resolution, and practical use (fast enough for most daytime photography without tripod, if you don’t have one with you).’

This way you understand that ISO 64 is a reasonably ‘slow’ film which, though probably not the best option for lunar photographs in retrospect, does have the trade-off of being a fairly high resolution film. That being said, one must wonder why, if the ISO 64 Kodak slide film provides acceptable high resolution images, was it necessary for Hoagland to composite multiple images of the doll’s head to create such a needlessly convoluted result? The ‘details’ are not improved upon by utilising this technique. All this manipulation creates is false data. Of course we must recall that we have been told quite often that the actual surface photography was apparently shit compared to the superior television quality, so perhaps this is the justification.

The details of how one of the Enterprise Mission doll’s head images was radically and wrongly manipulated is explored very well and very fully by Expat at The Emoluments of Mars, and I encourage you to read it. For purposes of our discussion, it is sufficient to explain that Hoagland says in Dark Mission that:

Color enhancements… showed that the “head” had a distinctive red strip around the area where the upper lip should be, a feature that clearly appeared to be painted or anodized on the object.

MasterFruitPunchOkay. So let’s play along. As the title of this series dares to enquire, is that lipstick on the doll’s head? If so, then why, in these so-called ‘enhancements,’ does the rest of the surrounding regolith suddenly have bright red bits in it as well? Is that lipstick too? Is this C3P0 or is it a lunar love doll? Seems a little weird for a robot – especially a protocol droid – to be ornamented with red lips. Actually, come to think of it, that’s kind of creepy. Reminds me a little bit of The Master and his fruit-punch mouth (What? No link?) If this is supposed to be a remnant from a vanished civilization, why is this doll’s head the only thing around other than the Energizer Bunny plush toy and the probable hippo mask? What the hell kind of civilisation was this and just what exactly went wrong?

And how has the bright red colour managed to survive for however many thousands of millions of years after the impact that created Shorty Crater? Surely whatever sort of devastation was visited upon the moon and violently gouged out such a massive crater would have burnt off or stripped away a mere paint job. It was searing enough to create volcanic glass and it clearly left Obvious Mechanical Debris and made that OMD virtually indistinguishable from other rocks. Yet it left virtually unscathed a supposed titanium alloy head with vestiges of red lipstick painted on it? Really?


When one compares the original NASA images against the Enterprise Mission and/or the Dark Mission ‘enhanced’ versions of (one would imagine) the very same photographs, more than anything you have to question not only the purpose behind such image manipulation but the veracity of the end product as well. The doll’s head can be seen perfectly well without dramatically altering the colour (and not for the better, I might add) for some inexplicable reason. In the Emoluments of Mars link, Expat states that he directly asked Mike Bara twice for some guidance on how to achieve the same end result (which Bara says anyone can duplicate) as those seen in Dark Mission, relating:

On the first occasion Bara replied that he was “not prepared to do your homework for you”, and on the second occasion he replied “you don’t know anything about how images are processed.”

Mr. Bara is neither polite nor helpful.

As I have stated, the practical nature of such radical manipulation makes very little sense. Except for the part where Hoagland and Bara are laughing all the way to the bank with this nonsense and I just have a stupid blog that nobody really cares about, so what do I know – even though I have now written the equivalent of my own ebook on the topic by now? Clearly this does not constitute ‘informed criticism’ though because I’m not what you call an expert.

Taking from frame AS17-137-21000 an area that is roughly the same region seen in the Enterprise Mission/Dark Mission ‘enhanced’ image and enlarging it to approximately the same size as that (600 pixels from the original 300 pixels) you can see there still appears to be a head-shaped rock in it but, just beginning to stand out, if you look closely, are the actual pixels of colour making up the image. Remember, despite the fact that the original photograph is from Kodak high resolution slide film, all of the ‘enhancement’ work is done with digital reproduction.


Though I can hear you sighing from here, colour photo paper is generally made of three layers of emulsion – yellow, cyan and magenta (and there are ‘supporting’ layers as well) – and the images we see are made up of little dots of colour. Go look at an old photograph with a magnifying glass and see for yourself. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

And whilst the fabulous world of Kodak Ekachrome processing differs slightly from traditional print making, the end result is the same. So when you take that photograph and digitise it, rendering it into perhaps thousands or even millions of tiny ‘picture elements,’ you also make a copy of those little dots of colours – which is one of many reasons why some scanned images look like complete shit and you have to fix them. Your new digital image is now pixellated, a discussion we have already had.


And the larger you make the image, the more those little bits of colour start to pop out. In this case, red. And of course you can also see pretty greens and blues in that sinister ‘day for night’ Enterprise version as well. Does that automatically mean that the lipstick on the doll’s head is, in fact, lipstick? Hoagland very specifically states in Dark Mission (wherein the doll’s head image is highlighted as ‘Color Fig. 28’) that the ‘Red stripe is not an artifact of image processing.’

I beg to differ.

A lot.

At the resolution being worked with, even when using the clean, high resolution images available from the Apollo Surface Journal or from prints ordered directly from NASA, and given the type of savage over-enhancement being done, the red stripe absolutely is an artefact of image processing. You don’t need to be an analyst to see the red beginning to stand out.

as17-137-21000HR-03Once you have ramped up the pixels to absurd proportions – and well before you can even start tampering with the hue and contrast or colour saturation – the image is degenerating into so many colour blobs. Red, in particular, is splashed about like some Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? freak show. It’s on the chin, the upper lip, one cheek, and above the eyes.

Of course I’m sure that I ‘don’t know anything about how images are processed’ either.

Concluding that this object could not be a human or humanoid skull – because any type of organic material would have either been incinerated in the cataclysmic event which created Shorty Crater or broken down after prolonged exposure to hard vacuum (although paint would have survived, it seems) – leads Hoagland to the assertion that it must, therefore, be a robot.

Yet within two paragraphs of suggesting that this artefact is a titanium replica of something akin to C3P0, replete with indented – and inset – camera eyes and painted lips, Hoagland abruptly shies away from this idea, apparently realising that it was probably a bit too science fictiony – a little too ‘out there’ – for the more moderate tastes of the anomalist community, and quickly replaces this ‘theory’ or ‘model’ with something vastly more palatable to the mainstream:

He begins to extrapolate, from the apparent ‘ground truth’ available at Taurus-Littrow, that this is no mere protocol droid, but an object much like Commander Data’s head as seen in a Star Trek: The Next Generation episode entitled Time’s Arrow – right down to the Type R Phase Discriminating Amplifier, one imagines – in which the information stored in the android’s positronic brain helps save the world. (By the way, he says of this episode that the characters are shown Data’s ‘disassembled’ head, when in fact they are shown a disembodied head. I’m just sayin).

He promptly returns to the ‘And Therefore Because of Its Size, the Astronauts “Could Have Brought It Back”‘ scenario, once more pointing to the ample ‘off-camera’ time (yes, again) which Schmitt and Cernan seemed to have had during their time at Shorty Crater. Although there is no evidence for this assertion, he seems to believe that they ‘could have’ jumped down into the crater and absconded with the head, despite the ‘tight time table’ they were on. Taking this completely unfounded hypothetical suggestion at face value for a moment, let’s examine very quickly the so called ‘ground truth’ for ourselves:

If you watch the available video (clip 145:23:48) or read through some of the transcripts, it’s fairly clear that Schmitt and Cernan were at Shorty Crater for some thirty minutes.  All you need to do is add up the time charted on the Surface Journal entries (for example 145:23:48 is mission hour, minute, and second) and you can determine with reasonable certainty that there wasn’t much time for shenanigans or covert reconnaissance.

as17-137-21024-rimobjectMost of the time you can see the astronauts doing their work. Periodically Cernan or Schmitt ‘disappear’ from view as the television camera operator back on Earth investigates the region for himself, but you hear them constantly talking. Ed Fendell does spend a lot of time panning across Shorty Crater and into some of the shadows at the rear of the crater. I’ll admit that. (Maybe he was trying to see what the curious looking object pictured here was, something I spotted on the far rim.)  Eventually, though, he pans back to the astronauts.

There is no time during these few minutes when the camera is panning about that the astronauts could have jumped down into the crater to pick up the ‘head.’ Not without being either incredibly fast or amazingly stealthy, or being able to predict every movement the camera (guided off-world by Ed) would make. And if they did dip down into Shorty, where are all the footprints? The camera gets a pretty clear shot down into the target area of the crater just minutes before the astronauts move on, so where is the evidence that the ‘head’ was collected? Did Jack Schmitt cunningly wipe away any mysterious footprints he might have left behind?

Towards the end of video clip 145:27:50 (or at approximately 5 minutes and 41 seconds in the longer clip), Gene Cernan asks ‘What’s wrong with the TV? Aren’t you watching this?’ as the camera he has just cleaned and adjusted for a pan has become stuck viewing the front end of the Rover. Hardly sounds like the actions or concerns of someone about to sneak off for clandestine activity. And you can still see Jack Schmitt collecting samples behind him.

NASA admin are chattering in the background, in the meantime, about time constraints and not paying much attention it seems. They are concerned that, due to the length of time spent at Nansen and Ballet Crater, the astronauts are pressing the limits of their walk-back constraints, meaning that if they spend too much more time at Shorty and don’t get moving and keep to the schedule, they might not be able to walk safely back to the Lunar Module in case of emergency like the Rover breaking down.

I find it strange that the desire to have the reader believe that Schmitt and Cernan (or ‘Schmidt’ and ‘Cerman’ as they are sometimes referred to because, you know, the research and documentation is so thoughtfully and carefully prepared) were quite clearly on a clandestine reconnaissance mission born in absolute secrecy behind the closed doors of NASA and funded by an unknowing American public, or that the idea of artificiality on a massive lunar scale simply fails to stand up to even modest scrutiny.

Clearly there is not a shred of solid evidence for artificiality, either in the Taurus-Littrow Valley, in the neighbourhood of Shorty Crater, or at Nansen.

Hoagland desires to point us to such ‘anomalous’ item as ‘the Spar1‘ (the object said to be leaning against the East Massif or Mons Vitruvius) or bad photography riddled with lens flare to indicate artificiality, yet he produces nothing of substance to verify his ‘models.’  His proof is, at best, as ethereal and surreal as the stream of consciousness externalisation of his internal monologue which, at the sufferance of the reader (and of his own credibility), leads Hoagland to speculate that obviously Apollo 17 had some ‘mysterious connection’ to Bush’s 2004 ‘Space Initiative’ plan and that the doll’s head was likely the key.

Could the data stored deep inside of the doll’s head have been exactly like the world-saving time travel information that was found in Commander Data’s positronic brain!? Moreover, could this be the whole reason we abruptly stopped going to the moon after 1972? And was this information—

why Gene Cernan…

scowled at President Bush!?


1) Listed below are some more random photos of the East massif found whilst conducting research for this segment. Notice the complete lack of a ‘Spar’ or any other anomalous feature in the region of Mons Vitruvius, especially the utter lack of the huge lunar domes. Once again I ask, why would someone spend so much quality time not only painstakingly editing out something in these photos (especially with 1970s technology) but take such an extraordinary amount of time to actually sift through absolutely every single image ever captured during the totality of the Apollo 17 mission that might contain any sign of this massif? Seems a daunting and, frankly, absurd task given the option of simply saying that on a voyage of discovery to the moon we might have actually discovered something…

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