Neil Armstrong is dead. That brings the already small number of our species who have walked on another world down even lower. There have been 12, now there are 8 left. One day in the not-too-distant future our children might look at the moon like some kind of fairy tale, a pipe dream from an antiquated and unrealistic past. Like the opulent cars of the 1930's, when certain economic events rendered them laughable, bizarre artifacts of a world that no longer exists. Children will look up at the moon and say "There were men up there once." (I already do this)
It's because we're too busy dealing with the dirt-centric problems in our world to look up anymore. Not even the important issues like how we can generate the energy (nuclear, damn you) required by our numbers and technology and yearning for discovery. Not how we can make ourselves last longer (transhumanism, damn you) so that we aren't lost to our mortality at the pinnacle of our knowledge. No, petty things. We worry about if someone will point a gun at us and take what we have, so maybe we'd better make sure we have a bigger gun first. We worry about which member of our respective nations (damn you) will get to wear the shiny hat and tell us all what to do for the next period of time. We bury ourselves in little made-up worlds that are small enough to keep us from feeling insignificant. (I'm guilty too, I know, stop looking at me like that)
I read a quote from Charles Bukowski the other day. He's most well known for being an accomplished poet and a jerk (See Bukowski by Modest Mouse). He said "We're all going to die. All of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing." He's right, you know.
Very recently a man named Felix Baumgartner rode a helium balloon to the top of our world. He opened the door, looked around, and jumped back down to the ground. It took him three hours to get up and four minutes to fall back down. He broke the sound barrier on his way. He travelled up to 833 miles per hour. He travelled 24 miles, one way. That man is a hero to me, not because of his world records, but because for the first time in a while, he gave us a reason to look up again. (His small step actually was a giant leap)
An energy drink company put a man in space during a time when the most powerful nations on earth believe that pursuit to no longer be worth paying for, and they did it just so he could jump back down. Maybe they figured we've been wandering around and staring at and fighting over the same rock for as long as we've existed, maybe it's time we started walking around the block. Or maybe they wanted to be rich and famous, I don't know. The truth is if we could just love each other a little bit, then we could all be astronauts, and save them from extinction.
We're all so broken down here, give me a way to rise. Please.
There you have it, post number twenty-two. (approach with trepidation)
I'm gonna go see Deftones play now. Have a good night.
No comments:
Post a Comment