Han shot first. Every member of Gen X knows this because we were there—all of us—at the Coddingtown Cinemas in 1977—at least in spirit. This is how it went: Everyone’s favorite space cowboy shot bounty hunter Greedo under the table. The end.

BUT subsequent futzing by creator George Lucas in later releases of Star Wars changed Han’s M-O from mercenary to self-defense with the digital insertion of a preceding blast by Greedo. Lucas didn’t stop there—he’s rejiggered the scene at least four times, including the version in the new Disney+ edition now streaming to the chagrin of a generation.

Which is the definitive version of the scene? Which is truer to the character of Han Solo? Who cares? I do because the shifting sands of cinematic “reality” are a mere dress rehearsal for how our culture retrospectively contours the shape of its own history. Han Solo doing anything but shooting first is revisionism, an alternative fact—the real fake news.

It’s also an object lesson in how the powerful manipulate culture for their own objectives. If you don’t think Mickey Mouse is powerful then you haven’t looked at copyright law in awhile—Disney’s lobbying has systematically inched copyright duration toward infinity and beyond.

Now there’s a new wrinkle in space-time—or as a science journal expressed to harrowing effect, the elemental structures of reality itself: what we consider the facts of the universe might actually be subjective. Gulp.

Published in the journal Science Advances under the scintillating title, “Experimental test of local observer independence” and co-authored by eight physics researchers (that’s more credited writers than the WGA would allow on a Marvel movie, just sayin’), a recent experiment suggests (and this is a gross reduction to my own reading level) that independent observations of quantum phenomena can yield different factual results wherein “the objectivity of observations is not so clear …. two observers can experience seemingly different realities,” reads the paper’s abstract.

Back to this abstract paper: Quantum quandaries are weird because the observer affecting the observed is part and parcel of how they function. The tree falling in the forest doesn’t make a sound unless someone is there to witness it. However, this eight-person “observer independence” gang is saying that’s a subjective proposition—sure, the tree makes a sound but to you, it’s a thud and to me, it’s Monty Python’s “The Lumberjack Song.”

“Consciousness causes collapse,” it’s said. A quantum-scale object can be a particle or wave and until you look—which causes it to “collapse” into one or the other—it’s both. And neither. But this sort of thinking causes my consciousness to collapse—or I’m too far into the weeds to finish the thought (or I need some weed to finish the thought).

Suffice to say, they rigged the system for relativism. I mean, no one ever said, “To thine own self be factual.” You’re going to have to seek your own truth, Chewie. Same as it ever was. Even if Star Wars isn’t.

Artistic Director Liz Jahren halts in front of a cluster of paintings on the wall at the Petaluma location of Alchemia Gallery and Studios, a visual-and-performing-arts nonprofit serving adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities in the North Bay. “Oh, wait, look at these. Aren’t these beautiful?” she asks.

All of the images are boldly rendered expressions of animals—cats, pigs, wolves, sheep dogs, polar bears and penguins, whales, fish, turtles and, um, a centaur. Some paintings are detailed to an astonishing degree, others simplistic to the point of minimalism; many are fancifully abstract, all of them vivid, colorful and instantly captivating.

“We often mistake animals as other,” Jahren says. It’s one of two opening receptions for the “Kindred IV” exhibit running simultaneously in Petaluma and Novato. It’s the fourth annual Kindred exhibit in Petaluma, but the first in Marin, where Alchemia has had a facility for 10 years but opened the downtown Grant Street gallery just one year ago.

“As a culture, we sometimes forget that animals have feelings, they have thoughts, they have ideas of their own, in a way, right?” Jahren says, when asked why they dubbed the show “Kindred.”

“I think that’s also true of a lot of people in our community, this community right here,” she says, gesturing at the works on the wall. Alchemia artists created them all. “There’s a special sense of ‘kindred’ that exists between our artists and the animal world, and there’s something really beautiful about that relationship. When they choose an animal that speaks to them and then create a piece of art around that animal, those pieces often turn out to be very powerful and just deeply, viscerally appealing.”

In addition to the galleries and the Novato teaching space, Alchemia operates a Santa Rosa location focusing primarily on performing arts: dance, theater, puppetry, media, music and singing. The Santa Rosa location also has its own, robust visual-arts program.

Elizabeth Clary, the Executive Director of Alchemia, arrives fresh from Novato’s opening day to join the festivities. Clary says it was a packed show, a testament to Alchemia’s growing visibility in Novato.

“The bottom line is that Alchemia has served Marin County for over 10 years, but we’ve been mostly under the radar,” Clary says. “A downtown storefront is a great way to promote the work of the artists we support.”

And those artists, notes Jahren, face more obstacles than one would assume when they identify as creative.

“Basically, people act as if you’re not allowed to be an artist,” she says. “It’s assumed you’ll participate in work programs where you can clean parking lots or assemble things in factories. That’s great for a lot of people—but for those who have an artistic streak, we offer an alternative. These studios and galleries are places our clients come to be supported as artists, with mentorship, facilitation and curatorship, to help them create and share their artwork with the world.”