Carl Sagan, an astronomer of great renown, was perhaps best
known to many as the creator of Cosmos, the legendary science series that aired
on PBS in the Fall of 1980. Co-written by Sagan, and hosted by him, Cosmos
attempted to explain nothing less than the universe itself, both on the
molecular level, as well as in the galaxy-spanning realms of distant space--yet
in a sensible, easy to understand way that appealed to the mass audience. The series was very
impressively done, with a big budget and special effects that were cutting edge
for their day. In the first episode, Sagan took viewers on a sensational 25
minute ride through the universe aboard a ship of the imagination, which was
designed after a floating dandelion. Biology, the physical sciences, and even
significant historical stories (such as the recreation of the fabled Library Of
Alexandria) would all be told within the 13 mind-expanding episodes of Cosmos.
When I first saw it, I was enchanted by the series. At the time, I was a serious
SF geek in high school, a complete Star Trek/Star Wars/Battlestar Galactica nerd
who rarely interacted with the "real" world, because I smugly thought that it
was devoid of any imagination and excitement whatsoever. Yet Sagan--through
Cosmos--taught me that the world of science, with its daily amazing discoveries,
was far more remarkable, imaginative and startling than anything that could be thought up by
science fiction. To say that Cosmos had broadened my horizons was putting it
mildly. My eyes had been opened to the vast possibilities that existed in our
own real universe. And, like many viewers, I was touched by Sagan’s ultimate
point that the human race was essentially the universe trying to understand
itself. And in order for this to happen, we must ultimately put aside our
self-destructive differences and begin to work together, so that we may all
better this vast and intricate cosmos that we share.
--SF