Friday, December 01, 2006

137. Mars is for Lovers.

Let’s get one thing straight right here and now: I am an überdork when it comes to space and Venus and whatnot. Just look at my sidebar, I have a link to NASA’s science page carefully camouflaged near Strongbad and Eric Snider.

So I wasn’t too surprised last night to find myself watching PBS last night instead of The Office because they were talking about meteors hitting the moon and the earth and changing the face of the earth and the face of the organisms that live(d) here. I mean, you’d make the same choice ninety-nine (99) times out of a hundred (100) too. It was kinda cool (to me, the überdork.) For example, large quantities of gold have been found in the impact crater of one of Earth’s older impacts. In others, diamonds, uranium, space proteins, and other valuable and/or important substances to Earth’s inhabitants or economy have been found.

Unfortunately, the show took an unexpected and dramatic turn to Mars’ potential to support life and the likelihood Jupiter’s moon, Europa, could already have life forms. Like a nebula-crazed sheep, I kept right on watching as my shepherd, the TV, spelled it all out to me in the geekiest way possible.

Apparently, a faction of scientists exists who think they could warm up Mars, find liquid water, and make great strides toward making the atmosphere human-friendly in about 50 years. Keep in mind these are the people Trekkies look down on as dorks (but secretly envy them because as dorky as they are, they are much more likely to be living in space soon than those idiots who glue on Spok ears and surface from their troglodyte lairs in their parents’ basement once a year wearing Starfleet uniforms and traveling great distances only to find out other people A) exist and B) have cooler Star Trek gear than them and C) that Geri Ryan was a Star Trek anomaly and neither of the trekkie girls at the convention look like her.) These Mars people (and I use the term loosely) are convinced that humans will be living on Mars not just one day, but one day soon and that we’re probably going to have to repopulate there anyway because the republicans are going to burn the earth alive in a fit of fossil-fuel fueled end-of-the-world skid.

(The previous statements have not been verified by the FDA and may lead to serious damage.)

Anyway, one of these dork geniuses (genii?) was all stressed because he was trying to draw pictures of what Mars life forms would look like based on the limited information we have about its climate and elemental makeup. He had a lot of jellyfish-like versions—very creative—and a couple that looked like Strongbad’s Trogdor drawing. I said CONSUMATE V’s! I swear one of these creatures consisted of nothing but thumbs and mucous.

And I thought to myself: (and please pardon the language, but there’s only one set of words to describe what I thought to myself) What the hell kind of job is that? First of all, if my tax money is going directly or indirectly to people who get to make amoeba drawings for a living I want out. OR hook me up with that job—I know I could get more creative than Milhouse version 0.4. On the other hand, maybe he was drawing Martians as a hobby in which case I say, “Mr. Scientist, this is a woman; put down the homemade tricorder and talk to her. Proceed with prescribed activity until:

•Your violent shaking stops
•You realize her skin is smooth, not like Martian soil
•You no longer have a desire touch her hair
•And until you realize your alien sketches are nothing more than an adult version of Napoleon’s liger.”

I’m the first to get all excited about space ‘n’ stuff, because it gives me respect for creation and patience, but I’ll be Swedish before I’ll let any of my mental energy be wasted on the prospect of space exploration. There’s a difference between my healthy respect for the study of space and their unearthly (pun intended) desire to spend billions and trillions of my dollars to put a man on Mars. I mean, just watch Red Planet one day (it may take two (2) or three (3) viewings to get all the way through it because of the disgust factor) and you’ll know that a mission to mars could only end in disaster.

Alf was a puppet.

3 comments:

MG said...

Puppet or not, I still say we try to land a man (and I use that term loosely) on Melmac.

stupidramblings said...

Is that man Terrell Owens, or Kobe Bryant? If they are the candidates to be sent to Mars, I'm in.

Sarah said...

Never, under ANY circumstance, miss The Office again. This is a warning but I know a good murderer who will back me up if it comes to that.