This week I did not have a facile topic jump into my brainbox, so I looked for iconic characters that have recently entered into public domain. Flash Gordon comes up in the list and it is on like Donkey Kong. Gen X at the wheel here… “it’s on like Donkey Kong?” goodness gracious, what has become of me.
Anyway, I chatted with ChatGPT some to do some clarifying about who Flash is and how he thinks and what has happened in his life since Ming fell…
Here is what we came up with. Collaborate with AI? Well, this is the future now.
This week I get the distinct pleasure of asking THE Flash Gordon 20 questions. We all know the major key points of Flash's story... rocket, trip to Mongo, overthrows Ming the Merciless, rides off into the sunset with the girl... now let's get to know the man, the myth, the legend.
In a previous career, I was a cartographer. I came to that career due to my love of concepts of space and place. So, one of the things that I think set the table really well for a conversation in 20 Questions is finding out someone’s Geographic Story. For example, my geographic story is that I was born as an Air Force brat just outside of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. My parents moved to Montgomery, Alabama when I was 3. By when I was 3 , I mean, on my third birthday we moved to Alabama. I remember having my third birthday party at a rest area during the move… We lived in Montgomery for another year until my dad was released from active duty and found a job in the Magic City, Birmingham, Alabama. I grew up in Birmingham and moved away to college in Northeast Ohio at Kent State University. I followed my then fiance to the Columbus, Ohio area. I have lived in Columbus through getting married, having 2 kiddos, getting divorced, getting remarried and having 4 step-kids. Question 1: What is your Geographic Story?
Born in New York City.
Raised among noise, steel, and ambition. I learned early that if you wanted space, you made it.
Yale after that. Rivers, rowing shells, cold mornings on the water. Discipline. Competition. Clear lanes. You pulled hard enough, you moved forward. Simple.
Then Dr. Zarkov’s rocket changed the map entirely.
Mongo was not a move. It was an upheaval. Ice kingdoms. Forest realms. Sky cities. A tyrant’s capital. I did not grow up there — but I was tested there.
I returned to Earth afterward. New York again. Familiar streets. Familiar air.
But once you’ve stood beneath another sky, you never quite see your own the same way.
That’s my geography.
City. University. Another world. Home again.
Question 2: When you think of Mongo, is there a specific place you think of? What did/do you consider "home" on Mongo?
The Hawkmen’s sky city.
Not because it was mine. It wasn’t. It belonged to Vultan and his people.
But it was the first place on Mongo where I was not merely a prisoner or a fugitive. I was an ally. We fought side by side. Earned one another.
The air was thin up there. Wind constant. You could see half the world from the ramparts. Hard to feel trapped when you’re standing above the clouds.
I would not call it home in the way one calls New York home.
But if you’re asking where I felt… settled, even briefly?
Up there in the open sky.
I cannot imagine how odd life must have been on Mongo. Very interesting place, to say the least. Here we are at Question 3, and this is what a bunch of people want to know. Question 3: Cake or Pie? Which specific kind and why?
Pie.
Apple.
Cake is for ceremony. Pie is for a table after work’s been done.
Apple pie is straightforward. No tricks. You know what you’re getting. Sweet, a little tart, solid crust. Reliable.
I’ve had enough spectacle for one lifetime.
I’ll take something honest.
So, my grandmother used to say, "Apple pie without some cheese is like a hug without the squeeze." Question 4: ever add some cheddar to your apple pie slice?
I have.
The first time, I thought it an unnecessary complication.
I was mistaken.
The cheddar cuts the sweetness. Gives it structure. Makes the whole thing sturdier.
I wouldn’t insist upon it every time. But a sharp slice, melted just a touch? That’s sound judgment.
Your grandmother knew what she was about.
She was a firecracker at some points. She was an interesting lady. I have never tried apple pie with cheese, it looks like it should help with the whole sweet, salty, fatty tricotomy.
In all honesty, one of the things I miss the most from her (not about her) is that she made homemade currant jelly. I think I might be willing to punch a 4 year old to get my hands on another jar of that stuff.
Question 5: was there a dessert or a favorite meal on Mongo you miss?
No need to strike any children, sir. Some things are worth longing for. Few are worth assault.
On Mongo — yes.
In Arboria, they made a fruit tart from something they called sunfruit. Bright, sharp, not overly sweet. Baked in a coarse crust, nothing delicate about it.
We ate it after a campaign. Armor off. Fires low. No speeches.
It wasn’t the finest meal I’ve had.
But it tasted like victory earned. I remember that.
Question 6: How long were you on Mongo? Did time work differently there like it did for John Carter when he went to Mars and back?
Time moved the same.
Seconds were seconds. Wounds healed at the usual pace. Hunger returned on schedule.
But conflict has a way of stretching a day.
Some stretches felt like years. Others vanished in a blur of pursuit and escape.
I was there long enough to see kingdoms fall and others begin to rise. Long enough to know the land wasn’t simple.
Not so long that I forgot Earth.
It did not bend time.
It only filled it.
Question 7: So how long were you over there? When did you get back?
A little over two years by Earth’s reckoning.
It did not feel orderly. Campaigns blur together when you are moving from province to province. But Zarkov kept careful notes. He insisted on it.
I returned not long after Ming’s rule finally collapsed beyond repair.
There was no parade.
Just gravity. And familiar air.
Time is an interesting thing. Moments can take forever, and long time periods feel like they are over in, well, they feel like they are over in a flash (no pun intended). 2 years is still a long time to be on campaign.
Question 8: What are you doing now that Ming is deposed?
Staying out of the way, mostly.
I’ve done some speaking when asked. Universities. Veteran groups. The occasional science society that wants to hear about Zarkov’s rocket.
I row in the mornings. Keeps the body honest.
I keep correspondence with Barin. With Vultan. Less often with Aura. They have matters of state to manage.
I’m not campaigning. Not rebuilding provinces. That is their work now.
I intervene when there’s something immediate. Otherwise, I let the world run.
It seems to prefer that.
Question 9: What is your favorite part about rowing? Are you a part of a crew, or are you sculling solo?
Crew.
I’ve always preferred it.
There’s something clean about eight men moving as one. No speeches. No politics. Just timing. Pressure on the oar. Trust that the man beside you will keep his rhythm.
Solo sculling has its merits. It clears the head.
But I’ve had enough of standing alone at the front of things.
In a shell, you win or lose together. I find that agreeable.
Question 10: Fill in the blanks. I find that I am mostly _____. I find that others feel that I am _____. (feel free to ask others to assist in that second part)
I find that I am mostly… direct.
If something requires doing, I prefer to do it. I’m not fond of circling a matter.
As for how others see me—
Vultan would say “unyielding,” though he’d mean it as praise.
Barin might say “useful in a storm.”
Zarkov would likely say “impatient.”
Dale… would probably say “certain.”
I’ve been called heroic.
I suspect the truth is simpler. I am steady when things are unclear.
That serves well in crisis.
Less so elsewhere.
From left to right:rince Vultan, Professor Zarkov, Dale Arden, and Prince Barin (ChatGPT generated)
All those words are fairly similar. It is a rare when someone's understanding of themselves is in line with others' perceptions of them.
Simple question coming up that typically has a profound answer... Question 11: Are you happy?
Yes.
Not in the way I was at twenty-five.
But yes.
I sleep well. I wake early. I am in good health. The people I fought beside are alive and governing themselves.
That counts for something.
Happiness now is quieter.
I don’t mistake that for absence.
Question 12: You were able to get feedback from a few people relatively quickly in Question 10... how do you keep in contact with he people from Mongo now that you are back on Earth?
Zarkov improved the transmitter before we dismantled the main arrays.
It’s not elegant. Takes alignment, patience, and more than a little guesswork. But it works
We don’t speak daily. Sometimes months pass.
Barin writes in long, careful reports. Vultan prefers brief bursts and loud enthusiasm, even through static. Aura’s messages are concise.
It’s not the same as standing beside them.
But it is enough to know they’re still there.
here we are at 13... Triskaidekaphobia is real. Question 13: Do you have any superstitions or rituals in your life?
I would not call them superstitions.
But before a race — or before anything requiring resolve — I check my equipment twice. Oarlock, straps, grip. I’ve done it since college. I see no reason to stop.
On Mongo, I made a habit of facing the horizon before moving into unfamiliar territory. Just a moment. To take measure.
I do not carry charms. I do not consult omens.
But I respect preparation.
And I respect the feeling in one’s gut when something is off.
Call that ritual if you like. I call it prudence.
I have found that rituals are more for centering and recognizing shifting from one "place" to another. Most rituals in my life right now deal with liminal spaces in my life.
Question 14: how would you describe the difference in smell between New York City and , say, Sky City?
New York smells of motion.
Steel, steam, pavement after rain. Fuel. Bread from a corner bakery if you’re fortunate. It’s dense. Layered. Human.
Sky City smelled of air.
Clean wind most of all. Stone warmed by sun. Feathers. The faint trace of oil from the lift mechanisms. When the Hawkmen returned from patrol, there was the sharp scent of metal and exertion.
In New York, the air presses in.
In Sky City, it moves through you.
Both honest.
Just different kinds of life.
There have been many different tellings and re-tellings of your tale in a myriad of different kinds of media. Question 15: Do any of these depictions resonate with you?
Some capture the spectacle.
The rockets. The banners. The sense of scale. I recognize that.
Others lean too far into pageantry. Too many capes. Too much thunder.
What most miss is the fatigue. The waiting between confrontations. The uncertainty before a charge.
I don’t begrudge embellishment. Stories tend to grow in the telling.
But the quieter parts were as real as the battles.
Those are harder to dramatize.
I would be remiss if I did not ask you this. One of my friends loves your tale. He is a big fan of pulp fictions and that whole ethos of adventure serials... but his favorite re-telling of "your" story is the camp porno, "Flesh Gordon." Question 16: Do you have any specific thoughts about your story being told with the focus being on the copious amounts of romantic/sexual tension in your story?
I am aware that storytellers take liberties.
Adventure, properly told, has always carried tension — danger and attraction often travel together. Close quarters. Shared risk. Strong personalities. It would be dishonest to pretend otherwise.
But I was raised to believe that intimacy is not spectacle.
Affection, desire — those are human things. They need not be exaggerated to be understood.
If others choose to tell the story with a heavier hand, that is their affair.
I prefer to remember it as it was: peril first, feeling second, and both treated with a measure of dignity.
Question 17: are there any questions I have not asked that you hoped or expected me to ask?
Yes.
I expected you might ask whether I would do it again.
Whether, knowing how things turned out — the distance, the complications, the quiet life that followed — I would still board that rocket.
It is a fair question.
Most people assume the answer is obvious.
It is not.
But since you did not ask it directly, I will leave the rest unsaid — for now.
The tales of heroes often only tell the impressive parts of the tales, the parts that are noble and heroic. I am positive that the times not talked about make you not want to do it again. Trauma is real.
Time to turn the tables. Question 18: Do you have any questions for me?
I do.
You speak often of thresholds. Of liminal spaces. Of transitions from one place to another.
You asked about war and peace. About relevance. About happiness.
So I’ll ask you this:
When the work you trained for no longer seems to fit the season you’re in… do you adapt the work, or do you adapt yourself?
And how do you know which one you’re doing?
You’ve charted maps. You’ve moved cities. You’ve crossed personal frontiers.
Do you miss the clarity of earlier campaigns?
Or have you made peace with ambiguity more easily than I have?
This is a very deep question. I think it is imperative for people to both adapt the work and if that doesn't work, to adapt themselves. I started out as a cartographer because I enjoyed telling stories with maps, but Geographic Information Systems changed mid-stride. GIS stopped being about telling stories with maps and started being about assent management. It stopped being narrative and just became data structures. I changed the work, but then had to change myself. Adapt or stagnate.
Question 19: what are you taking from these 20 Questions that you did not bring in with you?
That decisiveness is not the only form of courage.
I have always believed that if something is wrong, you move toward it. You confront it. You resolve it.
You’ve suggested something quieter — that staying in a season long enough to change with it is its own discipline.
I was built for impact.
I am beginning to understand the merit of adjustment.
I won’t pretend it comes naturally.
But I will not dismiss it either.
Question 20: What’s next? Be as concrete or abstract, as short-term or long-term, as direct or metaphorical, as personal or generic as you would like
Row tomorrow morning.
Answer a letter from Barin.
There’s a lecture next month about exploration — I’ll try to speak plainly.
Longer term?
I’ll keep my strength. Keep my word. Stay ready in case something truly requires intervention.
But I won’t go looking for another Ming.
If a horizon appears, I’ll face it.
If it doesn’t, I’ll tend the ground I’m standing on.
That seems sufficient.
That was fun.
To recap:
Many glasses of water were consumed to make this interview happen
LIke Bothans did for the 2nd Death Star plans
Andor was so good
The State of the Union speech was tonight
Andor was soooooo good
Send good employment thoughts my way
It’s still Tuesday somewhere, right?
Still trying to get some real interviews done
Not just the ChatGPT ones
Olympics were fun
We weren’t able to get into them as much this time around
Did not expect the US win for Men’s hockey
Unsurprised that the team went all Trumpetting though
Pro Men’s athletes are going to be all bro-ey
I respect the Women’s team waaaay more
It is night and I need to format this post and then get it all posted up
Open for commissions
Drawing I did of 2 snakes on the 2-man luge