
This week marks the 185th anniversary of the appearance of the first in a series of six articles in the New York Sun newspaper announcing the supposed discovery of life on the moon. Now, we cannot miss going there to get a feeling of how folks back then could have been fooled by such a story. So that we don’t disrupt the time continuum we need to take the usual list of what not to do.
Top Ten Things Not to Do at the Great Moon Hoax of 1835
10 If you go, do not laugh out loud when you read the first installment. If you do, at best, folks will think you are reading about the latest divorces. At worst, the editor Benjamin Day will think you have caught on to the hoax. (You see, Macon the paper was founded in 1833, and the articles about life on the moon were written by Richard Adams Locke as satire in response to some other ideas put forward at the time. If Day knows you know, he might have to figure out a way to silence you. Oh, oh, who are those men in black suits?)
9 If you go, do not ask Tiny the WWF champ if he has seen any men form the moon. If you do, at best Tiny won’t be paying attention. At worst, Tiny, who has had one wrestling match over the line, will think you are teasing him. (One of the descriptions of men from the moon describes them as furry winged, bats. Tiny hates things that could get caught in his hair. He is planning to use you to swat them out of the air. Don’t worry Maddock, we all know they aren’t real. Yeah, you are right. Tiny might let you go if he gets tired, spinning your around while holding your legs. Yup, it might hurt.)
8 If you go, do not ask Benjamin Day how he can afford to sell his paper for a penny. If you do, at best he’ll ignore you. At worst, since he made the decision to appeal to the working class, he’ll consider you as a bourgeoise member of the leisure class. (So he didn’t answer your question, Madog. Don’t feel bad. His price of a penny (26¢ today) was so working folks could have a paper. Other papers cost 5¢ ($1.04). He doesn’t like the leisure class much.)
7 If you go, do not ask Day about the other content of the newspaper. If you do, at best, Day will be busy. At worst, Day will think you are working for the New York Times. (Day decided that his low-income readership would like to know more about life than book reviews and the theater. He was the first to send out reporters to cover crimes, suicides, deaths, and divorces. He is now talking to those two big guys dressed in black, Maged. I don’t think your departure is going to be all that dignified)
6 If you go, do not question the so-called facts in the story. If you do, at best, the noise level in the room will drown you out. At worst, you could question the facts within earshot of the Reverand Thomas Dick. (Not only does the Reverand have an unfortunate name, Maher, but he has also published a number of best-selling books where he describes the moon as having 4.2 billion inhabitants. The story was written as a tongue in cheek jibe at the Reverand. Yes, I would say he is angry. Yes, that does look like a gun.)
5 If you go, do not start a Go Fund Me campaign for a trip to the moon. If you do, at best, everyone will think you are joking. At worst, Benjamin will want to put a quick stop to your efforts. (Day is very happy with the newspaper sales and views your efforts as potentially damaging. (If everyone decided to go to the moon, Mai, they would lose interest in the stories, and the sales would fall. Looks like the sheriff has been called. Something about unlicensed fundraising.)
4 If you go, do not start selling souvenirs from the moon. If you do, at best, you’ll get no buyers. At worst, you’ll be asked to authenticate the objects as being from the moon. (The articles in the newspaper detailed descriptions of the moon’s amethyst crystals. I guess you could use those descriptions as proof of authenticity, Mairtin. Just stay out of Benjamin Days way, though. He’ll want a cut of the profits.)
3 If you go, do not start describing how delicious a Royal Crown Cola and Moon Pie are together. If you do, at best no one will get it. At worst, everyone will want some. (Now you are in trouble, Majid. Royal Crown Cola was first made in 1905, and the moon pie was invented in 1917. Maybe you could whip something up before that crowd of hungry onlookers pay you a visit.)
2 If you go, do not demonstrate your version of Michael Jackson’s moonwalk. If you do, at best everyone will have left. At worst, you will shock the crowd into disbelief. (You also will have a tough time explaining just how you came to invent what will be known as Makani’s moonwalk, Makani. Whatever happened to trying to prevent a tear in the time continuum.)
1 If you go, do not try to help a group of Yale scientists who have come to review the information behind the stories. If you do, at best they won’t believe you. At worst, the scientists would learn from you enough to blow the whole story. (Calm down, Maklolm. Yes, the scientists did come to investigate. The New York Sun staff kept them so busy they went back to Yale, never knowing the stories were a hoax. So you did not cause a tear, and the paper admitted the stories were fake a month later.)