The Thing(s): 86 Years of Watching the Skies

The major streaming services' suggestion algorithms already know too much. I knew this the moment I logged into Netflix and it had labelled "dark Scandinavian suspense thrillers" as one of my favorite genres -not only specific, but right on the money. It couldn't be anymore specific unless it had been, "dark science fiction thrillers that take place on remote polar research bases." If it's about Antarctica or sci-fi, I'm watching it; if it's got both, it's an instant favorite. And the best example of the genre is undoubtedly The Thing, or more appropriately, The Things since there have been at least three major cinematic adaptations of John W. Campbell's 1938 novella "Who Goes There?", where "The Thing" makes its first terrifying appearance in literature. 

Campbell's story, originally titled "Frozen Hell," follows the researchers and crew of an Antarctic research station who stumble upon a crashed alien spaceship frozen under the ice. They recover a presumably dead alien body from the craft. They take the frozen specimen back to base for an examination, as any curious scientist would, and terror ensues. As a piece of sci-fi literature, it was an early example of the Golden Era of Sci-fi, from the 1930's through the 1950's, which spawned a variety of famous sci-fi books, television series and radio shows, and often prompted UFO hysteria, both real and imagined. Some sci-fi works, like Star Trek focused on the wonders of the beyond, and the shining possibilities of a space-traveling future; others, like "Who Goes There?" fall into the category I like to call "don't go to space." 

The first film adaptation of Campbell's story premiered in 1951 as The Thing from Another World. It's kind of cheesy by today's standards, but is actually quite a bit more entertaining than a lot of the sci-fi films of the day. It combines snappy dialogue with a continuous level of suspense without a lot of unnecessary filler. Parts of the film, shot at Glacier National Park in Montana are visually beautiful even in black and white. They help to capture some of the isolated vastness Campbell may have been going for in "Who Goes There?".  

At first, The Thing from Another World follows the same premise of Campbell's story, except the research base in Antarctica is replaced by an Air Force base in northern Alaska. Aviators from the base are called out to investigate a crashed object. They find a frozen alien, just like in the book. Once they return back to base with the alien encased in a frozen ice block, the terror begins. This is where, I think, The Thing From Another World begins to fall short... 

The airmen, civilian scientists and one journalist, grab guns, form a posse, hunt down and kill the alien, which turns out to be a giant vegetable (seriously!). 

There are other non-plot related criticisms as well. The first is that the one thinking intellectual in the crew of macho-man-alien-hunters, Dr. Arthur Carrington played by Robert Cornthwaite is portrayed as an effeminate weirdo who wants to (gasp!) communicate and (double gasp!!) learn from the alien, before killing it. He tries to do so, and gets immediately crushed on queue, making way for the capable heroes of the US military to save the day. Also, the only female cast member (the scientist's assistant), played by Margaret Sheridan, has very few lines, the longest of which is to suggest that a vegetable can be killed "lots of ways," by broiling it, grilling it, steaming it, etc.

But let's not get too intellectual. This pulpy flick isn't meant to be a thought-provoking piece of weighty philosophy; it's about a SPACE MONSTER after all. The real fault in Thing From Another World isn't the 1950's sexism, or the thinly veiled, Cold War-era, anti-intellectual McCarthyism (all movies from that time had some of that, especially the sci-fi ones). It's that it took away The Thing's most terrifying feature, its ability to shape-shift into any human it comes in contact with, and hide in plane sight until it's time to kill.

The Thing, the second cinematic adaptation of "Who Goes There?," premiered in 1982. Directed by legendary horror and sci-fi director, John Carpenter, and starring a great cross-generational cast including Kurt Russell, Wilford Brimley, Donald Moffat and Keith David, was neither a commercial success or failure, and it was panned by early critics as grotesque, nihilistic and boring. However, The Thing grew to be a cult classic, and in my opinion, a sci-fi horror on-par with Ridley Scott's Alien. 

The first scene capitalizes on the source material's setting with breathtaking areal shots of the white "Antarctic" wilderness (though the filming took place in Juneau, Alaska). A helicopter with "NORGE" (Norway) painted on it tracks a stray sled dog across the ice. We see one pilot manning the chopper, and another load a rifle and take aim from the aircraft as it approaches the galloping husky. A simple, but suspenseful monotone bass score, by composer Ennio Morricone, booms as the airborne hunters try once, and again to put the desperate dog down. The scene, with no dialogue and no prologue, brilliantly captures a “what-the-fuck is happening?” feel that entices viewers to stay seated to find out what is in store. Where-the-fuck are we? Who-the-fuck are they? and Why-the-fuck are they shooting at an innocent animal? Before the Norwegian hunters can stop their prey, it finds shelter at a structure, US Outpost 31.  

Conflict ensues when the American crew of Outpost 31 defends the seemingly innocent animal. The Norwegians, desperate to kill the dog, fire toward the American defenders. Gary (Moffat), the armed commander of the Americans fires from behind a window and kills the apparently crazed Norwegians. 

"First goddamn day of winter," says R.J. MacReady (Russell), the American chopper pilot for the station.

Not long after Outpost 31 loses contact with the outside world amidst an incoming blizzard (because of course), the crew finds out why these Norwegians did not want that dog to escape. It was no dog at all, but a creature, something horrendous. Once locked in the shelter with the other sled dogs, it reveals its gruesome form, digesting the terrified animals one-by-one with its array of tentacles. Members of the crew are there to witness the attack and kill the hideous thing before it can get away, but the danger remains... if The Thing can imitate a dog perfectly, it can imitate a human. The dog has been walking freely around the outpost since it was rescued; it could have eaten any member of the crew, and still be hiding among them. No one could be trusted. 

Just like in the original story, the Scientist, Blair (Brimley) is the first to crack from the terror. Or, maybe, he just saw the writing on the wall before anyone else did: The Thing could not be allowed to leave, and neither could anyone else. If it made it to a populated area, it will begin to eat and imitate everyone on earth, no one would be prepared, no one would see it coming. Before he's subdued by the rest or the crew, the frantic scientist destroys the radio equipment further isolating Outpost 31 from any rescue. From that point forward, with no way to tell who is real and who is an alien imposter, the crew's worst enemies are themselves. One after another, a crew mate deemed to be "infected", a talking, begging, desperate copy of someone who used to be friend, is shot to death or burned alive by the humans left on the station. The surviving crew's trust in one another fades as their fear rises. Soon, it's every man for himself, as no one really knows who the real Thing is anymore. "Frozen Hell" indeed. 

Carpenter's 1982 version of The Thing, has some dated special effects and admittedly has its dry spells, where suspense turns to boredom. But, for the most part, it really captures the vast loneliness of Antarctica with the intimate claustrophobic nature of the base. With nowhere to run, and no one to call for help, the crew of Outpost 31 may have well been on a spaceship, with an Alien crawling around in the ventilation shafts. It's sci-fi horror at it's finest. 

The Thing (1982) has certainly outlasted early criticism, remaining a pop-culture phenomenon to this day. A fairly good prequel based on Carpenter's 1982 film was released in 2011, staring Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Joel Edgerton. And, most notably, the online video game sensation Among Us, based on the premise of an alien imposter infiltrating a space crew debuted in 2018, and it soon had a cooped-up COVID-weary public on their phones, PC's and Nintendo Switches trying to guess which player was the "imposter", spacing many an innocent teammate in the process. In fact, The Thing is screened every year by the real-life crew of the Amundsen–Scott South Pole Station at the beginning of Antarctic Winter. Scientists have weird sense of humor. 

John Carpenter clearly knew what he was doing when he picked up this screenplay adapted from that early Novella called "Who Goes There?". The themes of The Thing are timeless, they transcend the sci-fi gerne all together, eliciting even the classic transcendental literature of writers like Edgar Allen Poe and Henry James. It may say more about the dangers of humans, than any space monster. Like Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart," or the phantasm in James' "The Turn of The Screw," we could easily dismiss any survivor's account of coming in contact with The Thing as a paranoid delusion, an insane fantasy, the natural result of being cooped-up and isolated on a remote polar research base where the sun doesn't rise for a month. Furthermore, we could look at The Thing as a reflection of post-modern society. With misinformation filling the airwaves, claims of "fake news" being spewed out by all sides of the political spectrum, artificial intelligence mimicking human interaction, and sometimes even humans themselves, a shapeshifting demon seems like an apt metaphor for the times. Heck, if a malicious adversary wanted to create chaos, they need only convince their enemy that A Thing is among them, and watch as paranoia and fear tear them apart from within. Perhaps this has already been tried.

The 1951 film, The Thing From Another World, may have fallen short of the mark when compared to Carpenter's 1982 remake but it does have a memorable quote at the end. After the alien is defeated, the journalist, "Scotty" (played by Douglas Spencer), who witnessed the battle, addresses the public by radio... 

"And now before giving you the details of the battle, I bring you a warning: Everyone of you listening to my voice, tell the world, tell this to everybody wherever they are. Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies." Maybe he should have added, keep watching each other too. Anyone, anywhere could be The Thing.  

Campbell, John W.  "Who Goes There?" in Astounding Science Fiction Magazine. Street & Smith, Publications, Inc. 1938.

Nyby, Christian. The Thing From Another World. Winchester Pictures Corporation, Los Angeles, California. 1951. 

Carpenter, John. The Thing, Universal Pictures, Los, Angeles California. 1982.  

Radio Check: Repeaters & Range Testing

As I discussed in my previous article, I successfully installed a much larger antenna for my HAM radio base station, but due to my schedule I wasn't able to really flex my HAM muscles outside of a few basic tests: the SWR for the new antenna was good, and I was able to connect to a few repeaters slightly outside of the range of my old mono-pole mobile antenna. So, this week I hopped on Chirp and went about testing the full power of the upgraded station. 

Using Chirp, a programing application for radios and scanners, I downloaded lists of repeaters within 25, 50, and 75 miles of my location in northeast Ohio. Chirp is a great resource for HAMs and radio enthusiasts, as it allows users to download lists of frequencies from a variety of sources which are updated daily and filter based on your preferences. I used the query source from RepeaterBook, a listing of all known HAM repeaters in the United States and abroad, and pulled in all the repeater frequencies for the 2 meter and 70 centimeter bands on which I'd be transmitting. Chirp provided a list of more than 100 repeaters within listening range of my station, their sub-audible tones and general information about their locations. I began going down the list, which stretched across most of northeast Ohio on into Pennsylvania, and made radio checks for each repeater, to see if I could get a "hit" or hear a response. The image above shows a sampling of repeaters I  hit while testing. The range of my station alone, without the additional boost of a repeater's relayed transmission, is more than 50 miles, so I was quite happy with the result.

If you've already read my previous articles, you'll know that repeaters are automated transceivers HAMs use as relay points. They use a "duplex" receiver and transmitter to listen for transmissions on one frequency then beam them out on another, often across a much farther range than what the original transmission would otherwise carry. Because repeaters are always in the same location, and often have courtesy tones, or beacons, which let listeners know their transmission has been heard, they make ideal testing frequencies, rather than using a person-to-person "simplex" frequency where another person must be present to hear and respond to a radio test. Transmitting to a repeater also increases the chances that another HAM operator will hear your radio check and respond with feedback about their location and how well they heard you, which is really exciting! 

The task however, like a lot of work in radio and signal testing, is a long and somewhat tedious process. For one, while RepeaterBook strives to keep their record as up-to-date as possible, some frequencies are bound to be out-of-date, repeaters may only be re-transmitting at certain times, and others may not have a tone or beacon which will clearly confirm that you've hit it. In may ways, the testing process is like walking blindfolded, until you find something. But, finding something is quite rewarding when it happens. It's always great to hear the "beep", Morse code beacon, or recording from a newly discovered repeater and recording a new active frequency in your log. Below is an example of a repeater response from W3LIF near New Castle, Pennsylvania. 

Sometimes I stumbled across a conversation, or a full-blown "net" which is kind of like a HAM radio call-in show, with people who check-in and talk at scheduled times each day. Sometimes, the same group of people will keep in touch via nets regularly for many years. One net I stumbled across while testing had 47 HAM operators check-in on one night, so the HAM community in northeast Ohio is alive and well.  

But, by far the most rewarding experience, is connecting one-on-one with other people. In my first week of testing I connected with a handful of individuals, from Wadsworth to Youngstown (Home of the YSU Penguins), who heard my transmissions and responded to my radio checks. Not only is it great to make a new contact, it's good to know that your transmission was heard loud-and-clear by a real person in a certain location. Most of the time the other HAM operator is happy to spend a few minutes providing feedback on your signal. For example, they can let you know if your signal is clear or garbled, to give you an idea of whether you can transmit with low, medium or high power to reach a certain location clearly. My particular radio can transmit at 50 watts, which at full power, uses a considerable amount of energy and can even make the radio and antenna hot to the touch, or even interfere with other devices near the transceiver -like a Bluetooth stereo. (FYI: a ferrite choke will limit interference like this even at high power outputs. That's the answer to question G4C08 on the General License exam question pool, by the way).

There are a lot of factors that can impact signal propagation, including the transmitter location, the location of the receiving antenna -whether it's high atop a hill, tower, or city sky-scraper, etc.- physical barriers -such as hills, mountains, etc.- and the availability of a receiving counter party, human or otherwise, to confirm receipt of your message. But, in one week of testing, I've been heard as far as 54 miles out, without the help of any signal boost from a repeater's output transmission. With the help of the repeaters on my own signal's frontier range, I estimate I can probably be heard clearly on the 2M and 70CM bands around 100 miles in all directions, covering an area of over 28 thousand square miles across parts of Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia and even southern Ontario. 

I will continue to test that frontier and see just how far I can potentially transmit beyond that boundary. I did hit a repeater in Lisbon, Ohio roughly 35 miles southeast of my location using only low power, which suggests my range could be even greater than the images I've included here. 

I'll stick to my 2M and 70CM band with the antenna I have for now, and continue to make to contacts in northeast Ohio and surrounding areas. However, as I continue to invest in the hobby, many more challenges await such as transmitting to orbiting satellites, or even the International Space Station -both can be done with my current equipment and technician's license. And, as I get even more advanced, I can even try using a shortwave antenna on the 20M band, which can basically transmit world-wide!

KD9ZDY Gets a New Antenna

Since earning my technician's license this past fall, I've basically just been listening in to various HAM frequencies, scanning for signals and learning about my equipment. In spite of passing my exam, there was still a lot I felt I needed to know before really getting started. Beginner's anxiety generally kept me away from transmitting with my call sign, and even when I did try, I found that my limited antennas (handheld "rubber duckies") were not really well-tuned enough to generate an audible signal that would travel more than a few miles. Even if there were some other HAM operators in my listening range, it wasn't likely they'd be able to hear me unless they were tuned-in right at the same time I was transmitting, and also within a short distance from my location. I could listen in on signals as far as 100 miles out, but I could not transmit that far. I needed a bigger antenna, something to really put my 50 watt ICOM IC-2730a transceiver to work. 

So, I began my latest HAM project: installing the telltale antenna -the ones that easily identify the radio enthusiasts in your neighborhood, and sometimes run afoul of the maligned home owners' association. I ended up buying a 2-meter and 70-centimeter band antenna from HYS. This fiberglass antenna had good reviews, and is basically a slightly less-expensive copy of the similarly tuned name-brand Comet antenna, which has a good reputation in the radio industry. The HYS is white and flexible, so it blends in nicely with the front of my house, and it should hold up to heavy Midwest winds. Outside of the good reviews, and attractive price point, I chose this model because it's tuned for the 2-meter and 70-centimeter bands which are the most common frequency ranges for local FM HAM communications. The length in meters and centimeters, is roughly equal to one wavelength between 144-148 MHz "2m" band and 420-450 "70cm" band. The 5-foot, 7-inch pole with three steel radials at the base is perfectly tuned to transmit at the 2m and 70cm frequency ranges. The HYS also boasted a 1.5 standing wave ratio (SWR), meaning it was well-suited to provide the most gain (signal strength) for the 50 watt power output that my transceiver was capable of providing. An SWR that is too high can cause damage, as too much of the power pushed into an antenna will feed back into the radio. An SWR of 1.5 or less means that the antenna is sufficiently resonant to safely transmit. But, I'd still need to install and test the antenna to make sure it works as advertised. 

Before the tough business of mounting the antenna and wiring the it to the base station, I first connected my a hand-held Baofeng UV-5R transceiver to the antenna to make sure it wasn't blatantly faulty. I dialed up the input frequency for my local repeater, and listed for its response "beep" on the output frequency. Sure enough, I heard the beep. So, at the very least, the HYS antenna would be as good as what I was already using. 

Set-up was actually quite straight-forward. I only needed a mount, a lightning arrestor, grounding rod, and about 30 feet of all weather HF coaxial cable, plus some siding hooks and wire clips to run the the wire neatly around the back of the house and in through the basement window where my radio is. I chose this location and set-up as a compromise between getting the antenna as high as possible without drilling into my home's plastic siding, and being able to install the antenna, and potentially remove it safely, without having to climb onto the roof. You can see from the photo above that a person can easily access the antenna from the front porch without a ladder. The other main safety precaution was adding a lightning arrestor and ground rod near the point where the cable enters the back of the house. The 4-foot copper rod is buried straight down 2-feet from the base of the house with three, 4-foot copper radial wires extending away from the home to disperse any charge from a lightning strike. 

Now it was time to test station KD9ZDY's new antenna with the real transceiver from the comfort of my basement HAM "studio." First, I wanted to make sure the antenna has a safe SWR of 2 or less as advertised, before transmitting. For this, I used my handy NanoVNA network analyzer. Success! The analyzer, calibrated to measure SWR between 100 and 500 MHz, shows two deep troughs at the 144 and 420 MHz ranges where the ratio dips below 1.5. So, the antenna came as advertised and is safe for my transceiver to transmit on the 2m and 70cm bands.

The final step was to get on the air and announce myself with a radio check to see if anyone or anything could hear me. Success again! While I didn't immediately hear from any other HAM operators, I could hear the beacon, or courtesy "tone", from repeater antennas I'd never been able to contact before. Repeaters, automated transceivers, which listen for your transmission and repeat it over a much longer range often send a beacon, tone or squelch tail (the static fuzz that denotes an end of transmission), if it successfully receives a transmission. In the video above, you can hear the repeater's beacon when when I made contact with it. Not long after confirming my station's new capabilities, I was getting responses from other HAMs across the region, confirming that they got my signal loud and clear.