Al Gore’s Beard

Sometimes I become frustrated by the apparent boredom expressed by the mainstream media, and apparently its consumers as well, towards human endeavors in outer space. Reflection upon the cumulative human mission in space (going on 50 years now, remember) is usually pretty mind-blowing if you can keep the noise down long enough to wrap your brain around the fact that there are actual machines doing actual things in space and actual humans, too.

(Courtesy of nasa.gov)

Pilot Gregory H. Johnson was asked about his best memory of the mission.

“The thing that jumps out to me is the launch. After almost 10 years of training … I could have never imaged how it was going to be until we actually did it.”

This was Johnson’s first spaceflight.

It’s important that our governments maintain an ability to shock and awe us without having to resort to violence, don’t you think?

Enjoy.

Every artist (generous) or content-generator (more accurate) can cite predecessors that, had they not existed, would preclude the output of the artist themselves. If there were no Elvis, no John Lennon. If no Fante, no Bukowski. No Marv Albert, no Spero Dedes. So it is with websites and me. I always thought I could write, but review of my “writing” in a pre-blogging phase rather rudely contradicts this assertion. Without Slate.com, there would be no beard. Slate, and about 10 others that orbit in elliptical paths around relevance. My love letters to them will undoubtedly follow this in some organic manner.

Slate has begun the Hillary Clinton Deathwatch. Many things to love about this: 1) The fat is in the fire with regard to Mrs. Clinton, and it will be quite compelling political theatre to see if she exits with the elan of 1980-vintage Ted Kennedy, or if her campaign coda ends up reminding us of an overturned cockroach in your shower that you just sprayed with clorox.

2) Slate. Slate is everything loveable about “new” media, or post-internet journalism. Bitchy, unpretentious, salacious, and transparently so. Also, informative as all hell.

And just to clarify, I don’t think she’s done. I already tried that twice, and was summarily burned something fierce. Until Barack can produce her head on a pike, Hillary is undead. Believe it.

I laugh at the misfortune of little children. You will, too. It’s okay though. They bounce back much better than us grownups.

John McCain is 71 years old. That qualifies as “old” by many definitions, and everyone knows old people are cheap. I suppose that’s why he’s against a Santa Claus-like pay-out to help both home owners and lenders up against the meat hook realities of unwieldy mortgages. He says it would be irresponsible. I say, “so what?” All you governmental clowns, Senator, are going to mismanage that money anyway, either on some billion-dollar-a-week war or a super-gnarly nuclear submarine (how’s that Al Qaeda Navy looking?) or a paper tiger fake economic stimulous package, so why not let part of that ineptitude get some pie-eyed mullets off the hook for their hideous tract homes in soul-crushing exurbs like Flugerville and Ontario?

Also, i’d like to send along a big fuck YOU to those with non-mortgage debt who are bitching that THEY aren’t going to get bailed out, therefore no one should. Jesus, of all people, has a take on this: Just because someone else has it easier doesn’t mean you are off shitty.  I have way more credit card debt than i care to acknowledge, but that has nothing to do with someone else maybe getting a little love from the feds with their mortgage. Be charitable, jerks!! You too, Senator McCain! Or was charity not yet invented when you were growing up?