In this one you play the great, faceless actor, the voice of educational films. You are best known for the notorious Driver's Ed film you narrated to such chilling effect. But your favorite role is in a more obscure work, a film about the Universe for high school science classes. A film about space and bodies in space. You play the narrator as a man who suffered some overwhelming loss, like the death of a young brother or the loss of faith in a god who could prevent such a thing. You painstakingly elucidate the idea of space as a frigid, lightless void. All delivered in the deadpan tone for which you have become renowned. You move on to vacuums and black holes and the things that even Nature herself for the longest time would not admit existed. But you're a master of restraint. Lesser interpreters would climax here, but you know that the greatest art must be reserved for the topic closest to the students and thus the least magical to them. The finale of your lesson is Earth itself. The Earth beneath their very feet. So you describe the planet in the most powerful terms available, cataloging colossal forces like gravitational pull and polar magnetism, mass extinction and loss, and how loss becomes a planet of its own from which the vectors of all our endeavors propel themselves. How theories, ambitions, explorations will rocket out to a thin-aired apex only to come burning back down to this solider planet of loss. How you imagine only one force that could ever achieve escape velocity. How some people doubt that it has ever been done.