We're Bored, Let's Blow Stuff Up

Life is full of disappointments, this much I have come to terms with. I do not have a flying Delorean. Space 1999 was all lies. A red cape does not grant me the power of flight. There is, however, one galling fact about modern life that I've never quite come to terms with. Man walked on the moon thirty-six years ago. Thirty-six. But are we taking day-trips into space? Have we built a lunar colony with bouncy low-gravity rooms and doors that go "swoosh?" Do school kids get to go on space-walks and eat mushed-up tube food in zero-G? No chance. NASA have let us all down terribly and should be giving out free space suits by way of an apology.

It occurred to me that NASA may not be oblivious to this crushing disappointment. What if it was in fact the evil suits running the States' economy who are to blame for the space program's dwindling funding? In which case NASA could well be filled with the hirsute space-adventurers of my imagination, only they've had their dreams cruelly dashed by the powers that be. These poor souls must be bored beyond belief. "I signed up to play golf on Mars, Geoff, not catalogue dust movements on Alpha Zebulon V," you can almost hear one of them cry. God, they must be so restless they'd even contemplate sending a rocket 268 million miles into space to blow up a chunk of comet. Y'know, for kicks.

And you know what? They've only gone and done it too. They've actually sent a probe into space in order to catch up with a comet and fire a washing-machine-sized missile at it just in order to, er, make a cool explosion. Sweet Moses!




















KABOOM! Comet: 0 - Bored Scientists: 1

They say there's a scientific purpose to all this, but then they say that Sunny Delight is supposed to be good for you. I salute this grand act of space folly. Before long we'll be painting rockets bright pink and sending them off with flagrant lies about the human race in order to confuse the aliens who might have picked up any of our previous packages (they could bundle in a couple of kazoos, party hats and a Herb Alpert Greatest Hits LP, that'd get them knocking on our door for sure). NASA, I salute you. Now, if I could only find my red cape I'd give jumping out of that tree another try...