Dancing King

We send rockets and satellites and other technologies out into the unknown, hoping for a little insights into the endless void around us. But in nineteen fifty eight, a Soviet scientist noticed something peculiar on one specif rock, one we've been looking at for millennia, and his alleged discovery, if proven true, was on track to change the course of

history forever. His name was Nikolai Kosirev, an astrophysicist who made a name for himself in the nineteen thirties as one of the co founders of theoretical astrophysics, and it was early November of nineteen fifty eight when Nikolay observed the surface of the Moon, and that's when he spotted a red cloud of gas pluming from the middle of the crater Alfonsis. He believed what he had witnessed was

an active volcano on the Moon. Now, Nikolai was hardly the first person to spot what he thought were volcanoes on the Moon, dating all the way back to the sixteen hundreds, a British chemist named Robert Hook conducted extensive research on space and also deduced that the craters of the Moon had been the result of volcanic activity. But where Hook only had telescopic observations and rudimentary experiments to help him in his research, Nikolai had modern technology on

his side. He used spectrogram to track the emissions from the crater and repeated his observations the next few nights, hoping to find a pattern or further evidence to support his claims, and it led him to the conclusion that there must be active volcanoes on the Moon's surface, except the common belief among experts at the time was quite the opposite. Even if there had been volcanoes on the

Moon at one point, they'd no longer be active. So when another scientist, a Dutch American astronomer named Gerard Kuiper got wind of Nikolai's claim, he got to work proving it false. You see, Kuiper had gone on record as theorizing that moon volcanoes just weren't a thing anymore. If Nicolai's evidence was real, then Kuiper would be out of a job as a trusted advisor to several government agencies.

Active volcanoes would also indicate the presence of an atmosphere on the Moon that would affect the design of future spaceflight vehicles as the Russians and Americans competed for first place in the space race. But as Kuiper dug deeper into Nikolai and his claims, he ran into a few big problems. The first being the language barrier between the two men. They couldn't really speak over the phone or via written correspondence. There was also the issue of the

images themselves. Nicolay's photographs were not as definitive as he had originally believed, and Kuiper saw no conclusive proof of recent volcanic activity on the Moon's surface. It quickly became clear to Kuyper that in order to judge the veracity of his rival's claim. He needed to judge the man first, so he reached out to a few Soviet astronomers for insights into Nickeolay's character, and it didn't take long for someone to spill the intergalactic tea on their colleague's true nature.

According to one scientist named v I Krassovski, Nikolay's scientific rigor wasn't up to snuff. There were even whispers that he had fabricated evidence to support his theory. This only accelerated Kuiper's descent into Nicolai's history and reputation. It all came to head in the early nineteen sixties when both Soviets and American astronomers joined together the other at a

gathering called the International Astronomical Union. What transpired was a discussion about lunar theory, with Nikolai defending his claim of active moon volcanoes. But it wasn't until two astronomers from Leningrad stepped forward with a theory of their own. They believe that what their colleague had really witnessed was the effect of cold gases escaping, not the hot molten cloud

of a moon volcano. Kuiper agreed, and after inspecting Nikolai's photos again determined that he hadn't made anything up, he had simply misinterpreted the data. In the end, it was clear that there were no active volcanoes on the Moon, just remnants of inactive ones, although we should still probably send someone back out for proof that the Moon isn't made of cheese all those holes. That might be a

job for Switzerland. When we talk about the French Revolution were usually referring to the civilian rebellion that ended in the seventeen nineties. That's the one with the storming of the Best Deal and the execution of Marie Antoinette, which led directly to the reign of Terror and the rise

of Napoleon Bonaparte. But if I can get technical for a moment, there were actually several major revolts in French history, some that led to changes in power and some that just failed, like the June Rebellion of eighteen thirty two, featured in the popular movie and Broadway show Les Miz or the February Revolution of eighteen forty eight, in which

Napoleon's nephew was elected to lead the Second Republic. But before any of these rebellions, there was something called the Fraund a series of civil wars during the mid sixteen hundreds. The Frond wasn't led by commoners, but by the wealthy aristocrats who wanted to rule alongside the Royalists. Their insurrection took advantage of a major power vacuum caused by the fact that King Louis the fourteenth was just a child and not able to rule on his own. The insurrection

broke out in Paris when he was just ten. He had to be snuck out of the city and was forced to flee the country. Louis spent the rest of his childhood in exile, while his mother and advisers fought and schemed in his place. Finally, though, in sixteen fifty three, the royalist forces won a series of major victories, allowing Louis to return to Paris. For the moment, the fighting had paused, but there were a lot of open questions. No one knew whether the Frond was actually over or

just moving into a new phase. It would be one thing if Louis were capable of ruling decisively, but he was still a teenager, not even fifteen yet, and no one in France had seen him in years. In his absence, the nobles had begun to wonder who exactly was their king. They got their answer on February twenty third of sixteen fifty three. Starting at six o'clock that evening, France was reintroduced to Louis the fourteenth through one of the most

spectacular grand entrances in history. He appeared on stage before an audience of Parisian courtiers, and as the orchestra began to play, Louis performed a ballet. A hush fell over the audience as the young king began to glide across the stage, moving with surprising grace and power for such a young dancer. His time in exile had been spent studying court ballet under notable masters, and he'd become an impressive athlete. His talent was matched by incredible endurance and versatility.

The show was physically demanding, containing forty three separate mini ballets. These were broken up by a variety of performance arts, all with Louis as the star. He sang, performed poetry readings enacted in dramatic scenes brought to life through elaborate costumes and groundbreaking special effects. The plot was a clear allegory for the country's recent upheaval. Featuring witches, werewolves, and goddesses, Louis performed six different roles, culminating in his performance as

the sun god Apollo. In this final he was elevated onto the stage by a rising platform adorned in gold and glittering gemstones, heavy plumage, and golden sun rays extended from a tiara to frame his painted face. The king cut an unforgettable golden figure dancing across the stage while the real sun rose over Paris. The performance had lasted twelve hours, from dusk to dawn. When it finally concluded, the audience was left breathless, reeling at what they had

just witnessed. But there were no longer any doubts about their king. His virility, strength and power had been put on display for all to see. Soon after his performance, the nobles who had grasped for power quickly fell in line. The rebellion was broken, their humiliation complete. In the coming years, they would have even less influence than ever before. Meanwhile, Louis the fourteenth would reign for seventy two years, making him the longest ruler in French history. Forever afterwards, he

was known as the Sun King. In reference to his role as Apollo in that first ballet performance. And while he wasn't always popular, he maintained an iron grip on the government for the rest of his life. And that's how Louis the fourteenth put down a French revolution through the power of dance. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting

Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the Worldoflore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.