With Newt Gingrich as the potential soon-to-be leader of the free world, I'm super psyched about his pragmatic approach to America taking over the moon. Creating a lunar colony in the midst of an economic crisis is obviously a pretty solid Presidential platform that I think will really resonate with the millions of underemployed Americans living in poverty. And he's not one of those "so-called romantics" who just daydreams about living in outer space. Nope, he's the kind of "practical" and proactive leader America needs to get shit done. Cool moon shit, not more boring healthcare crap like those weiners in the Obama administration. But before I offer my glowing endorsement for the only candidate whose name is also an ingredient in a witch's brew, I just have a few logistical questions regarding all my future lunar living needs:
1. First of all, will I need to apply for a US visitor visa to get to the moon, or just the territory belonging to America? Or am I okay to travel anywhere on the moon with a simple Canadian passport? And supposing I wanted to live on the moon, would I have to obtain US citizenship?
2. Not that I could foresee any complications arising, but like any vacation spot with no oxygen, gravity, or atmosphere it's always good to think ahead, right? So what's the story with medical facilities and healthcare coverage? I know picky details have to take the backburner when it comes to space colonization, so maybe I'll come back to that one. Just whenever you're ready.
3. Speaking of not having any oxygen, and also not really knowing how to manage manufacturing on the moon, does that mean the production of air will be outsourced to China? I figure it will just be to suplement the drilling once the resource exploitation, er... 'asset development' thing gets sorted out. Surely we're not in danger of a peak oxygen hoax for a while.
4. Will same sex marriage be legal there or will the moon continue to uphold America's wholesome traditional family values? I imagine anyone living on the moon would only be supportive of things that are normal and natural for humans, like living on the moon for example. So that's probably a 'no'. Nevertheless I'd hate to see the moon succumb to the kind of liberal hippie orgy fest that's inevitable with equal opportunity rights.
6. Will NASA accept Air Miles?
7. Exit through the gift shop?
So I say enough with the thinking let's get with the doing. I support an American Mars colony by 2020.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Monday, January 2, 2012
The White Van
A quick excerpt from a bigger untitled work in progress:
The White Van
When I was younger there was this quasi-urban legend of “the white van”. Every single kid in the city lived in fear of white vans, even though nobody actually knew what would happen to us if we ever encountered one. All that was clear was that white vans equalled unspeakably horrible things, most likely involving death and torture and people born with chainsaws for hands.
One day my friend Jamie and I were alone at her house and suddenly the doorbell rang. We looked out the window, and right in front of her house was a white van.
“OH MY GOD HE’S HERE!!!” we shrieked. “What do we do?!”
Had he seen us? Did he know we were inside? Did he know we were alone? So many questions, but we knew we were probably going to die.
“I don’t wanna die!!!”
Jamie and I were crying and panicking and we hysterically decided that the best course of action would be to hide in her bedroom closet with a kitchen knife. That way if he found us we would be able to defend ourselves before he hacked us into bloody little bits and pieces. It was a fail proof plan.
In retrospect it’s a little weird how it never occurred to either of us to call 911 at any point, even though they were relentless about instilling this in schools. I think it could probably be blamed largely on the fact that we had grown up watching Kevin’s wild vigilante justice methods in the Home Alone franchise. The fact that we hadn’t rigged up elaborate traps involving paint cans and blow torches was evidence of just how unprepared we were for things like white vans. I think this is the reason my mother hated the Home Alone movies. Nevertheless, John Hughes solutions were far more compelling to kids than any emergency hotline.
So finally after what seemed like ten hours, but was actually closer to three minutes, the knocking at the front door just stopped. We decided to sneak a peek out the bedroom window and watched the van pull away. We were safe. But for how long? We were certain he’d be back, and we probably wouldn’t be so lucky next time.
About an hour later Jamie’s mother returned home and wondered why the groceries still hadn’t been delivered.
This was the kind of thing that happened when irrational fears of vague things that are abundant in society become instilled in the public conscience. Poor innocent delivery guys have their jobs unnecessarily complicated while little girls are locked in closets with futile weapons and undelivered ice cream melts into liquid in the backs of white vans all over the city. It’s total chaos.
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