Showing posts with label 1969. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1969. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Manning The Moon

Between 1969 and 1972 there were six lunar landings made by NASA and eleven men walked on the moon’s surface during that time. The first man to walk on the moon was Neil Armstrong on July 20, 1969 and the last man to set foot on the lunar surface was Eugene Cernan on December 11, 1972.

Nobody can really say for sure why the milestone Apollo Missions were replaced by the millstone Shuttle Launches, which are about as exciting as watching a neighborhood kid fly a kite on a still day. NASA thinks that playing Buck Rogers in the 21st Century and blasting off the Earth in rockets big enough to power a city for a year and loud enough to wake up aliens anywhere in the solar system is still a laudable idea when almond-eyed, bubble-headed extraterrestrials have been flitting in and out of our atmosphere on the whisper of gravity for centuries.

Hmmm....you don’t suppose these are the same almond-eyed, bubble-headed bastards who told us to get the hell off the moon in 1972? After all, they just may have outposts on the dark side of the moon (the part that never faces Earth) and want to remain hidden. But then NASA Apollo astronauts would surely have seen their lights while orbiting the moon in search of a landing spot so how could this possibly be?

Let’s face it, going to the moon was a very big deal and making rings around the Earth in a “spaceship” that looks like it was made from Lego blocks is nothing but window dressing for an American space program that was zapped in the bud by extraterrestrials who put their foot down about our traipsing all over the solar system without a plan.

And a Mission to Mars? Forget that. Until we learn to eliminate our exhaust emissions, we’ve pretty much been “grounded” by the solar system police.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Woodstock: Giving America the Finger

While I donned a white dress shirt and tie in August 1969 and rode with my parents the thirty miles to Penn State’s main campus and put in a forty-hour week in Accounting Administration and then 20-hours-per week in Accounting Studies as a part-time accounting assistant and full-time English major, thousands of young people in my age bracket were brazenly showing the rest of the world that my generation consisted largely of sociopaths who didn’t care that they were naked and fornicating and getting stoned in public.

And we wondered why they kept sending our asses to Vietnam.