Thursday, July 21, 2005


Giant steps are what you take
Walking on the moon
I hope my legs don’t break
Walking on the moon
We could walk forever
Walking on the moon
We could live together
Walking on, walking on the moon

(The Police, 1979)

I watched it on a little black-and-white set, sitting on the floor of Aunt Marge and Uncle Phil’s bedroom in North Miami. The images, coming across all of those miles of space, had a ghostly, ethereal quality to them, befitting the subject matter.

“That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for Mankind.”

Ahh, what humans can achieve when they direct their energies to a goal. Never mind that we did it to beat the Commies. Never mind that we did it to show the world that our collective American Dick was bigger than that of the Russians. The fact remains: We did it. We humans did it.

And worthy goals remain.

Explore the universe. Feed the hungry. Create peace.

Yet here we are, thirty-six years later, and what do we have? Shitheads with bombs.

Agghh! Silly, puny humans. When will we get our fucking act together?

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