I have a thing for NASA, even though maybe I shouldn't.
Someone (Pandagon?) pointed out the rampant sexism and boys club bullshit that that particular catalogue represents, especially in the nostalgia surrounding the moonshot. Good points all. True points. But in my black-starred ideals, I'm dreaming of a place of Captain Janeways and Captain Siskos and Kira Neryses and Tasha Yars. Where existence isn't mapped, can't be mapped, on GPS devices everywhere, because it has yet to be discovered.
Clearly, I like Star Trek. Even semi-shitty, post 90s, "Millennium Male" Enterprise. It's a better place, naturally, in the Federation, sure, but also because there is seemingly endless space to pass through, without the suffocation of finite land and resources. I hate the idea of a peak, which is an irony as I'm not the most ambitious person in the world, but it seems like there are so few thrills and dangers of discovery left. There is technology, and I've only recently come to know the love of an iPod, but beyond that I'd rather see the stars...and the stars beyond them.
Of course, this could all be one obvious metaphor my subconscious (and now conscious and I've come to hit that) is making about progression. But I really do like space, and not everyone I talk to agrees with me. Members of my family believe we never met the moon, and they also think it's a waste of money to try...
"Wouldn't that money be better spent feeding our hungry?"
But what of dreams...and not stifling here, in minimum wage petty cruelty hell?
This vile old man comes into the store and buys a Milwaukee Journal every morning, and has, for the second time, made a shitty comment about my hair (I'd like to add that it's the SAME comment he made 6 months ago...Bitch can't even remember his shit) and seems, unabashedly so, determined to make me realize the practicality in pleasing him visually. In my Star Trek world, I can be super hairy (Klingons!), or blue (Bolians) or even insectally clicky (Species 8472)...and no one is going to tell me what's up. For that I'd spend a little money...and a little time...and a lot of dreaming. And all the science...I don't understand...but I like knowing there are other girls who do.
3 comments:
This! I hate when people make the argument "But why are we spending money researching X when there are so many people who go hungry?" Because the leading edge pulls the rest along, that's why. You never know what the implications are for new discoveries. In 1900 when T.H. Morgan began breeding Drosophila, that would be one of those projects the general public would call a waste of time. White-eyed flies? Who gives a shit! But look where we are now. We're literally building new organisms.
But beyond that, the universe is a beautiful place. The universe is full of wonders, full of virtually unlimited resources and energy, and we're squabbling over scaps on this mudball.
A planet-wide event that will kill everything larger than single-celled organisms will happen. Improbabilities become near-certainties as you increase time, which is why it is vital that we not keep all our eggs in one basket. Actually, the gamma radiation from a nearby supernova will reach us in about 3,000 years. We either need to be well out of the solar system by that time, or have developed some super shielding.
Way to sneak in a "Rocket Man" lyric. I caught it and appreciated it. Bonus points for making it work so seamlessly in the context of the piece.
Have I ever told you that "Rocket Man" is my second favorite Elton song (behind "Levon," of course, but just ahead of "Tiny Dancer.")
Yes, that's my intellectual contribution to the conversation: Elton worship. My brain is fried from reading the horrors that my freshmen pass off as "persuasive writing." Gah.
...OK. It really has been a long day. My punctuation in the second paragraph above blew ass. :)
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