I love sci-fi, every angle of it: music from David Bowie and his “Space Oddity” to R.E.M singing “Man on the Moon,” mostly about Andy Kaufman and hoaxing, you know, like putting a man on the moon; movies like Alien, where we got to watch Sigourney Weaver give birth to a monster (and to this day still causes me to fear the worst whenever I have stomach ache); and TV from My Favorite Martian to Alphas. We’ve been spacing out for generations, if not hundreds of years, fascinated with what’s over yonder or out there. Somehow the place we’ve been planted is not the place we want to grow. In fact, it seems we are hell bent on destroying what little earth we have been granted.
Now, if missing out on the winning Powerball wasn’t enough to make you cry, I’m sure this will do it. The process is over for picking the final 100 applicants out of 200,000 who had their hearts set on the Mars One program and so desperately wanted to be shot to Mars and die there, 33 of them Americans. This is a $6 billion trip financed through sponsorships, crowd funding, intellectual property revenue, and the sale of broadcasting rights. Broadcasting rights, wow! Maybe Brian Williams would like to go; I understand he needs a new gig. Or imagine being the first spaced-out spaced-out DJ. All this makes me wonder, why they are trying so hard to get off the earth? What are they not telling us?
In 1903, the Wright brothers successfully flew a plane for a whopping 59 seconds, Apollo 11 landed on the moon in 1969, and just 55 years later, in 2024, we’re off to Mars. I heard one scientist say it would help us better understand the meaning and origin of creation, but sweet mother of the cosmos, we haven’t done anything but screw up Earth. If there is intelligent life out there, and I’m sure there is, at some point they are going to say, “Back away from our planet, Earthlings. This is a pollution-free galaxy. Just turn your little spaceship around before we have to show you what a real probe feels like.”
Oh! Guess what they are going to shoot into space next. Really!
There are more thoughts both orbiting and submerging on the shores of Rambling Harbor and one obvious blunder. In the podcast, I say that Lesley Gore died on Monday the 23rd instead of the 16th. Oops! Give a listen.