The European Southern Observatory, one of my favourite sources of open-licence astrophotography, marked the 15th anniversary of its Very Large Telescope by releasing this new image of IC 2944, a stellar nursery some 6,500 light years away in the constellation Centaurus. The picture combines visible light with narrowband hydrogen-alpha and oxygen-III emissions. Check out all the Bok globules! Image credit: ESO.

Eliminating whitespace gives you a nice gigantic map, which is hard to consider bad in any way, but it does feel a bit overwhelming, like there's too much map to process. Google keeps most of the map, except for major highways, dim for the most part, highlighting relevant content for specific uses -- i.e., click on a location and nearest intersecting main streets highlight, ask for directions and exit numbers appear even at high zooms. It's very, very subtle, something you might not notice. Much of the interface is moved from the sidebar to the map: Street View is accessed by clicking the road, for example -- Pegman is nowhere to be seen.

Kenneth Field has some thoughts on the new maps, particularly in terms of whether Google has succeeded in creating personalized cartography. AppleInsider's glee at discovering the same sort of image distortions that were called out in Apple's maps last fall is plain for anyone to see.

Have you had a chance to play with it yet?

You will remember that Aliette de Bodard won the Nebula in this category, for "Immersion" -- a story I thought very highly of. But winning the Nebula doesn't always make a story the favourite for the Hugo. Only seven times in the last 40 years (17.5 percent) has a short story won both trophies: before "The Paper Menagerie" by Ken Liu did so last year, the last story to win both awards was Connie Willis's "Even the Queen," 20 years ago. And "Immersion" is up against different competitors, because it was the only story to be nominated for both.

There are, in fact, only three stories on the ballot this year instead of the usual five. As I mentioned before, this is due to the rule requiring each story to receive a minimum of five percent of the nominating ballots. The rule also requires at least three stories on the ballot, whether or not they made the five percent threshold. (I'm looking forward to seeing the raw numbers listing the total votes per nominee, which get released after the Hugo ceremony.)

I suspect that this is likely the hardest category to get a nomination in, other than best novel. So many short stories are being published -- in the traditional and online magazines, in anthologies, in mainstream venues and obscure corners of the field -- that nobody can possibly read them all without making a deliberate effort. And many of those venues don't publish novelettes or novellas. The field is fragmented to the point where virtually every venue has the same size readership, according to Locus numbers (around 25,000), but the readerships don't necessarily overlap. The centre does not hold. Consensus is more difficult.

That said, here's what the final ballot looks like:

• "Immersion" by Aliette de Bodard (Clarkesworld, June 2012)
• "Mantis Wives" by Kij Johnson (Clarkesworld, August 2012)
• "Mono no Aware" by Ken Liu (The Future Is Japanese, ed. Nick Mamatas and Masumi Washington, Haikasoru, May 2012)

I've already discussed "Immersion" in the Nebula short story post, so let's deal with the other two, both of which are stories by writers whose work, like Aliette's, I like very much, so this is a ballot relevant to my interests.

First, "Mantis Wives" by Kij Johnson, whose short story collection I reviewed here last summer. It's a brief piece, less than a thousand words, and elegantly brutal in the manner of "Spar" and "Ponies": mantis females have elevated the post-coital killing of males to an art, which are described in spare, lyrical, poetic detail.

Next, "Mono no Aware," the fourth story by Ken Liu to receive an award nomination this year. (He had three Nebula nominations, none of which carried over to the Hugo.) In a blog post from 2010, Ken explains how mono no aware (もののあはれ) -- the awareness of the impermanence and transience of things -- is common in a lot of Japanese and Chinese art, and turns up in much of his own work. In the story, the protagonist, Hiroto, is literally the last Japanese person, rescued from the destruction of the Earth and living on a starship headed toward 61 Virginis; he reflects on the passing of the Earth, of Japan, of his family, and in the end of himself, as he sacrifices himself to save the lightsail propelling the ship to their destination.

It's a deeply felt and powerful story, possibly the best of his four nominees, with the emotional heft of "The Paper Menagerie." In many ways it's the mirror image of "Immersion": both stories are about loss and identity; Ken's is wistful where Aliette's is white-hot angry. The two stories could very easily be talked about in tandem and would make for a great story club discussion, I think. I also think I'm going to have a hell of a hard time deciding between them.

Today a new Hubble image was released that promises "the most detailed observations ever" of the Ring Nebula (Messier 57), a planetary nebula about 2,300 light years away. It's easily spotted in backyard telescopes (I've seen it many times myself). This image, taken through a combination of regular red, green and blue filters along with narrowband filters that reveal specific emissions, is good enough to form the basis of a 3D model. And if that's not enough Ring Nebula for you, here's another image combining Hubble narrowband data with ground-based infrared observations that reveals the nebula's outer halo. Image credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration.

The sea monsters on medieval and Renaissance maps, whether swimming vigorously, gambolling amid the waves, attacking ships, or simply displaying themselves for our appreciation, are one of the most visually engaging elements on these maps, and yet they have never been carefully studied. The subject is important not only in the history of cartography, art, and zoological illustration, but also in the history of the geography of the 'marvellous' and of western conceptions of the ocean. Moreover, the sea monsters depicted on maps can supply important insights into the sources, influences, and methods of the cartographers who drew or painted them.

I may have to get this.

Here is a list of the winners; it's been reposted many other places, so it's not necessary for me to do it again here.

I was happy to see two of my favourite stories win awards: Aliette de Bodard's "Immersion" (short story) and Andy Duncan's "Close Encounters" (novelette). Nancy Kress's After the Fall, Before the Fall, During the Fall wasn't my pick for novella, but it probably would have been my second or third choice. As for best novel, I haven't read 2312 yet, but it ought to be in the imminent Hugo voters' package. I've only read about half the nominees so far, and on that admittedly limited basis I'd have given it to The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan. That said, I'm still looking forward to reading The Killing Moon by N. K. Jemisin, because I tend to like her stuff a lot (it's on my bookshelf, but I'm behind: I can only read 80 or 90 books a year, you know).

As for handicapping the Hugos on the basis of these results, reply hazy try again. The de Bodard, Kress and Robinson may well be the favourites going into the Hugo voting, but they're up against a different field: only two novels, three novellas, one novelette and one short story have made the final ballot for both awards (Duncan did not make the Hugo ballot). I'll be looking at those Hugo nominees soon. Well maybe not soon -- this is me, after all -- but certainly before voting closes. Probably.

The latest new species to arrive at our bird feeders appears to be the Pine Siskin (Carduelis pinus). It's a passerine finch that resembles the goldfinches and redpolls we see more frequently. Like goldfinches and redpolls, they flock in substantial numbers: I counted more than 20 of them today. More photos here, here and here.

I haven't experienced many earthquakes (the last one was in June 2010) so it's hard for me to compare; this one felt, well, wobblier than others, like I was in the backseat of a car driving along one of Quebec's finer highways on a hot day with the windows up, and if it doesn't stop soon I'm going to barf. That kind of motion. One person said I'd tweeted about it before anyone else (at least that she saw), but then I was at the keyboard when it hit; all I had to do was command-tab to the Twitter app and type one word. The quake lasted more than long enough for that.

Natural Resources Canada lists it as a magnitude 5.2 quake and puts the epicentre 18 kilometres northeast of Shawville; the USGS calls it a magnitude 4.4 quake and locates its epicentre 19 km north-northeast of here. I've pinpointed the two organizations' epicentres, showing the differences, on this map.

Either way, the epicentre was situated in the rural municipality of Thorne, which I should say something about, because it usually doesn't get much attention. It's sparsely populated, with fewer than 300 permanent residents (an 18 percent drop over the past 20 years); the seasonal population of cottagers is more than three times as big. It's Shield country (hence the earthquake) and so not good farming, but it had an influx of German settlers in the late 19th century whose main legacy is an Oktoberfest held each October in Ladysmith, Thorne's centre. (Seriously, try the wings at the Hotel Ladysmith.) The arrival of a small cohort of American draft dodgers has made the joint much more interesting in recent decades.

Update, May 20: Nature's coverage fingers the use of Xenopus in pregnancy tests; once the test was obsolete, hospitals released the frogs, carrying the Bd fungus, into the wild ...

It's often argued that spoilers should have an expiration date. No one, for example, should feel the need to put a spoiler warning on the fact that Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father, because The Empire Strikes Back came out on May 21, 1980 -- 33 years ago. So there is a point at which spoiler alerts are no longer required, and people who complain about spoilers can be rightly ridiculed as solipsistic weenies.

But what is that point after which spoilers are fair game? Nathan Fillion thinks that spoilers shouldn't apply to the previous season -- which is to say, if season five is being broadcast now, season four is fair game. (It's true that a lot of the complaints come from people who are several seasons behind, catching up on DVD or Netflix or iTunes.)

Me, I think that if you're sufficiently invested in a TV show, movie or book that spoilers would affect your enjoyment of it, you have an obligation to consume that cultural product as soon as possible.

Which is to say: if you want to watch Star Trek: Into Darkness spoiler free, get your ass to the movie theatre this weekend. If you don't want to be spoiled about "The Name of the Doctor," make a point of watching it on broadcast TV Saturday night or, if like me you don't have cable, download in from iTunes on Sunday.

Make a damn effort, in other words.

I think opening weekend is about the only spoiler-free window you're entitled to. The following week, we're gonna talk about stuff -- about Benedict Cumberbatch's Star Trek character, about who Clara Oswald is, about the Doctor's name. If that's too soon for you, then it doesn't matter to you enough. Get a move on, or shut up.

Previously: Spoilers Don't Matter.

The Cassini team has released a global topographic map of Saturn's moon Titan. What makes this map interesting is the fact that, due to its thick atmosphere, Titan can only be mapped by radar during Cassini's close flybys. As a result, only half of its surface has been imaged, and only 11 percent has topography data. For this map, the remainder was, well, extrapolated:

Lorenz's team used a mathematical process called splining -- effectively using smooth, curved surfaces to "join" the areas between grids of existing data. "You can take a spot where there is no data, look how close it is to the nearest data, and use various approaches of averaging and estimating to calculate your best guess," he said. "If you pick a point, and all the nearby points are high altitude, you'd need a special reason for thinking that point would be lower. We're mathematically papering over the gaps in our coverage."

Topo maps of parts of Titan have been released before, but not for the entire moon. See previous posts on The Map Room: Titan in Stereo; Topography of Titan.

Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/ASI/JHUAPL/Cornell/Weizmann.

In this final installment I look at the novelette nominees. Novelettes are the middle length, running from 7,500 words to 17,500 words. (If you missed them, here are the posts about the novella and short story nominees.) This year there are some novelettes on the ballot that I just loved, which is atypical for me; usually my response to novelettes isn't quite so enthusiastic. (But that's not to say that my response is normally tepid. I'm just a miser with my superlatives.)

So here's what the ballot looks like:

• "The Pyre of New Day" by Catherine Asaro (The Mammoth Book of SF Wars, ed. Ian Watson and Ian Whates; Robinson)
• "Close Encounters" by Andy Duncan (The Pottawatomie Giant and Other Stories, PS Publishing; reprinted in F&SF, Sept.-Oct. 2012)
• "The Waves" by Ken Liu (Asimov's, December 2012)
• "The Finite Canvas" by Brit Mandelo (Tor.com, 5 Dec. 2012)
• "Swift, Brutal Retaliation" by Meghan McCarron (Tor.com, 4 Jan. 2012)
• "Portrait of Lisane da Patagnia" by Rachel Swirsky (Tor.com, 22 Aug. 2012)
• "Fade to White" by Catherynne M. Valente (Clarkesworld, August 2012)

Seven stories (i.e., a tie or a jury addition). Five of them science fiction, two fantasy. Four from online venues (three from Tor.com, one from Clarkesworld), just one from a traditional magazine, another reprinted in a magazine that first appeared as an original in a short story collection, one from an anthology. Five women, two men. Only one -- "Fade to White" -- also made the Hugo ballot.

For once, I'd read the bulk of the nominees before the ballot was announced. Two of them I'm particularly excited about. Andy Duncan's UFO story "Close Encounters" I've mentioned before; let me just say that I'm delighted to see it on the ballot. I'm also delighted to see Catherynne Valente's "Fade to White," an astonishing story that is proof that she just keeps getting better at this. "Fade to White" is a mordant riff on 1950s Cold War hysteria, set in an alternate world where McCarthy is president and the bombs already fell, with a Handmaid's Tale style twist. Both of these stories just nail it in terms of voice; if either of them take the award, I will be quite satisfied.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. There are a trio of novelettes from Tor.com to consider. "The Finite Canvas" by Brit Mandelo, in which a mob killer seeks out an exiled doctor to cut scars in memory of her most recent murder, is noir, and effective in its atmospherics and narrative. Meghan McCarron's "Swift, Brutal Retaliation" focuses on two sisters dealing with their older brother's death, and the ways in which their family falls apart around them as they grieve; the brother's appearance as a ghost is almost beside the point. My favorite of the trio is Rachel Swirsky's "Portrait of Lisane de Patagnia," which is no surprise considering how much I love her stuff: in this story, a dying artist's former pupil must paint the artist's portrait using a magic that consumes the subject of the painting. It's powerful and beautiful, but then it's Swirsky.

Now to the two novelettes I hadn't encountered before. There is "The Pyre of New Day" by Catherine Asaro, in which recurring character Soz Valdoria, a badass biomech psychic warrior, is called upon to help evacuate a failed colony. I didn't like it at all: the romantic elements, which I found unconvincing and a little creepy, kicked back on me rather hard. On the other hand, there is "The Waves" by Ken Liu, a story of Stapledonian scope -- the sort that hurtles toward the eschaton -- in which wave after wave of interstellar colonists are overtaken by far more advanced versions of humanity. Liu is flexing muscles and showing range here in a story that is a bit redolent of Stross. (Hint: good thing.)

That's that for the Nebula short fiction nominees; once the Nebulas are handed out and the Hugo voter package is released, I'll be able to start in on the Hugo nominees.

So what is the situation with cardinals in the Ottawa Valley?

A decade or more ago, when I was living in Ottawa, I was given to understand that Northern Cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) were a relatively recent arrival to the area -- that their range was, thanks to climate change, gradually moving northward. Fast forward to today -- or rather, yesterday, when a cardinal arrived in our yard, the first one either of us had seen, anywhere. (See photos above.) I announced the fact breathlessly on Twitter, but it doesn't seem to be as big a deal as I thought. Apparently cardinals are a common sight in Ottawa -- how long has that been going on? Granted, we're further up the Valley, so if the range has been moving northward slowly, then they may just be turning up here now. Or am I mistaken? Are cardinals a big deal around here or not?