This Carbon Based Life

By David Glenn Cox

To laugh or cry are our only options available to us these days. The King deports and imports based on melanin levels. Brown ones out and White ones in. White South Africans who haven’t suffered a property seizure in over a quarter Century, must be rescued immediately. But of course, it’s not about race, it’s about symbolism. A subliminal signal to the racists. Your champion has arrived. Seig Hiel!

The King accepts a golden 747 as a gift, a patronage buy off from Oman. Probably purchased with $400 million in Saudi money and transferred, so as not to be too obvious. In these days of such dark nights at noon, corruption is to be celebrated. Bribes and sublimations in this window only! No cash dispensed at this window, gifts only! Aircraft, boats and or property, window three.

Just think, if George the III had taken this approach. The whole revolution thing might have been avoided. George Washington being a loyal officer to the King. Due to his service in the recent War, George felt he was owed a little something for his service. He had set up a company to sell land west of the Appalachians in Ohio. But when George asked for the King’s permission, the King explained it would be a violation of the peace treaty. Suddenly, when George realized, he wasn’t going to get his way he was bitten by the Revolutionary bug.

If only, George III had just bought his American cousin off. The war might have been avoided. No reason for war! Bribes for everybody! But in those long-ago days of cataracted ideas of a British King or Parliament being extorted by a backwoods Lieutenant Colonel. Their opportunity was squandered. Flash forward a hundred and fifty years. The European governments had learned better. At first, Hitler demanded only small concessions. And many felt the treaty of Versailles had gone too far. After all, Hitler was only claiming what had been German territory. Give the baby what he wants and maybe he will go away.

Then Hitler began to demand what was not his. European governments were more than willing to trade land which didn’t belong to them to achieve peace in our time. Successful corruption only wets the appetite for more corruption. So, if King Donald the turd gets a 747 why can’t Squeaker of the Waffle House Mike Johnson accept a 737 Max? Why not a Piper Cub or a bus pass for Marge Traitor Greene? The cash window is now open, first come, first served. The Attorney General will look closely at this and then go back to her Sudoku book. Come land in Newark maybe?

But the sorcerer’s apprentice Mickey Musk is at it again. He is incorporating the land around his Star base into Star City, complete with housing developments and company stores. No mention of building schools or hospitals yet. The land’s owner Mickey Musk will sell homes to his workers. And maybe, you ought to buy one, if you’d like to continue working here. The land is uniquely suited for space launches being less than a foot above sea level. But for retail and residential development is amazingly ill-suited being less than a foot above sea level.

To illustrate, Space Ox recently moved a 100-ton base for a new launch pad on one of those multi-wheeled crawlers. Guess what happened? Come on guess. Okay, be that way. The crawler began to sink on one side into the sand. Go figure. With engineering like that, how long until the moon and stars are finally within their grasp? Hauling a 100-ton chunk of steel across a mud flat requires site preparation? Really? The NASA crawler designed to carry the Saturn V to the launch pad had a nifty gravel road prepared because that’s how big government rolls. No retail property development. No Saturn V Estates.

But it made me double up with laughter. I was watching a program about plans to return to the moon. Every plan has its shortcomings. Some don’t have the hardware, and some don’t have the fuel capacity, and none have the funding. Space Ox needs to refuel before going to moon. It’s never been done before and NASA even on a drunken Friday night would never consider such a folly. Handling tons of volatile chemicals in low earth orbit, what could possibly go wrong? Going to the moon requires just one fill up. (Check the oil, of course) Going to Mars requires six fill ups.

It makes going to Mars the simple part, while refueling the rocket would be the rather difficult part. Seeing as no one in any space faring nation anywhere in their right minds would ever suggest such a thing. Anyway, where will all the space pioneers be while this dangerous space refueling takes place? Inside the rocket of course. But no danger Major Tom use your crash helmet. It’ll be fine, just trust in Mickey Musk and the Muskovites .

Now, if you’ve followed private industries attempts to land on the moon robotically. You might have noticed a tendency for the landers to topple over. The moon’s surface is not level nor stable. Nasa’s Lunar Module was large and square with large, very large, landing legs. Mickey Musk after a successful space refueling plans to land a 171-foot tall and 30-foot-wide rocket on the moon. Like landing a 171-foot-tall number two pencil in the lunar sand. NASA’s Lunar Module was 23 feet tall and over 30 feet wide, see the difference in designs? But if you can refuel in space, landing a pencil on its eraser on the unprepared lunar surface should be easy. But getting out of the 17-story tall rocket and getting down to the lunar surface, should be quite a trick.

That’s one very, very large step for man. And a piece of cake for Mickey Musk. Of course, it’s never been tried before. And the math behind it is ludicrous. But Mickey Musk lets his mouth write checks his butt can’t cash all the time. The plan is so far from realistic until it’s laughable. A Cyber truck in outer space. It is like something from out of a cheesy 1950s science fiction movie.

But as night is now day. Right is now wrong. Truth is now fiction and the impossible is now possible. Never let the facts or mathematics interfere with a good yarn. Star City, OU812. If you lived here, you’d be stupid by now!

“Money is, in some respects, like fire. It is a very excellent servant, but a terrible master.” ― P. T. Barnum