.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
Oh my stars and little sputniks,
but there's water on the moon!
I hope this means a "lunar rush,"
and I hope it means it's soon!
A boon to our economy,
it could save us from the "Rock";
let's gird our loins for future's sake;
own up and buy some stock!
Our destiny is manifest—
to live upon new worlds.
We crawled from slimy seas at first,
progressiveness our herald.
'Twas then we gulped our first clean air—
now it's vacuum we're to breathe!
We'll step out into timeless space—
let's do it! Ready? HEAVE!
...
I cannot know the course you take;
progressives take one now!
There's potential, wondrous bounty,
resting off the port-side bow.
I'm setting sail, the winds are sweet,
our canvases are filled;
we're looming on prosperity;
it's in space we'll be fulfilled!
And think of all the upsides—
no natives to subvert!
A planet of unclaimed dead space;
no one to shame or hurt!
Low gravity to play in,
rare metals to refine,
and toxic crap to stay in places
safe, secure... confined!
We'll sleep well snug from vacuum,
and we'll farm the lunar soil;
we'll mine that precious water—
satisfactions for our toil.
We'd do it now! Why would we wait
when every second counts!
Where's our profit in delay?
All our pressures strain and mount!
Procrastinate at peril,
ignore this carrot on a stick?
Our *watchers* will conclude, perhaps,
that we're as thick as bricks!
Water on the moon, my friends,
water on the moon!
It's enough to make you wobbly;
it's enough to make you swoon!
It's enough to make you wishful that
perhaps there is a chance
that we might even have hope left...
In space, to sing our dance.
We owe it to ourselves, you see,
and generations after!
This cosmic plan whose time is come!
Let’s shout it from the rafters!
Our Earth is drowned in toxic sludge.
We suffocate to death!
Let’s take our leap to starry space...
...Now, while we have breath!
- Make it so! If I was Bill Gates, I'd pay for it myself.
- …Or would I... ...Could I?
- Back last Century? Bill Gates gushed inspiringly with regards to his plans to put up a globe-circling string of low orbit communication satellites... This would shotgun into existence an internet without the limitations presently endured or otherwise threatened. A real first category level civilization attribute.
- Full-on real-time communication... Instant, effortless, and responsive... anywhere on the planet... anyplace where a dime-sized camera could go... ...from the bottom of any sea to the top any mountain, then on into space... anywhere a camera or a microphone could be included at the best resolution of either... fast enough to download a full-length feature film in milli-seconds...
- ...Gives a person grand ideas doesn’t it? World consciousness, on-call...
- Maybe that was the problem... cue an ominous music.
- You know, if you had... say... 50 billion dollars, after taxes, and you could spend less than a fifth of that to produce something similar? Would you? That is to say, could you? ...Would you be allowed?
- You see... that bravely inspiring talk of 21st Century Communication Systems dried up overnight, and any reference to them abruptly disappeared from the media. Questions are suggested, reader, where they're not begged!
- I wonder... was Mr. Gates *honored* with an authoritative visit by our stealthy authoritarians? Was he subject to some late-night visit of corporate media Czars or government *agency* boys? Maybe he was shown a cut of the Kennedy assassination from an angle no one had seen before... Beside the point... his brave talk about putting this planet in touch with itself evaporated like the porch light shot out by someone too suddenly wishing your attentions were... elsewhere... eh?
- ...Keep a billion, Bill, to start your traditionally corrupt personal dynasty [g]. ...Though, the rest should go to the moon! C'mon, no one should sit on double-digit billions of dollars, dude, even when it's the law of the land! It’s unethical, immoral, and just plain wrong. Wrong to a level of grok-ness as wide as it is long and as deep as it is unnecessary.
- What happened to your plan, Bill?
- Hey? ...Did you know you were biologically compelled to eat less, and also potentially live a lot longer on the moon? Besides, wouldn’t it be kind of neat to have the 21st Century be able to fly back down to you, you know, if Earth got whacked by the aforementioned "Rock"?
- I suspect it would... Something about placing eggs in different baskets, I recall...
- Restore John Ford! Now.
