Posts Tagged ‘apex of american ingenuity’

I Am An Astroanut

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

My First Astronaut Photo Day

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

After years of dutiful skystudying and tempered perseverance, I have finally become an astronaut and have had my photo entered into the Astronaut Tome of Ages. Truly, never have I felt so exalted, so esteemed, so expertly alive as I do at this very moment. MIR is only days away. I plot its temporal movement on my Skybacus.

Have you ever had a dream accomplished? An ambition, achieved? Then you must also be an astronaut. And if that is true, we will prepare for MIR together. We will join hands and achieve with intention – our body heat expended will power small gymnasiums and tiny countries.

To feel the hundreds of gallons of fuel beneath your body quiver with anticipation as lift-off looms, to feel the nuts and bolts shake with decade-old uncertainty, Yea, the astronaut’s life is truly ripe with promise and passion. Yet who among us, who, have the brilliance, the reserve to dedicate themselves to that fruit in the sky? I do. And I have.

Never again will I eat Eggs for breakfast, Ha! Perhaps before The Vision, but not now, not ever again. No, an astronaut must have Wild Boar for every morning’s start. For when the sun rises in Space, the sun rises true, and nothing less than Boar will suffice. Lest you want I should drop my SpaceNines-Screw sent plummeting back to earth with screaming red Atmo-fire during routine and treacherous off-satellite camera lens filter adjustments? Ha! Eggs, I bid ye not!

And yet, there is a loneliness I sense, an understanding of the days to come. I can sense it building, signaling to the horizon like the encroaching Pre-MIR Mandatory H-1200 Anti-Decompression-Flight Chamber, for the loneliness is hungry, and demands its forthright meal. But after eating its fill, gorging on promise and kindness and flight discipline, only one creature waits for more; after the dishes have been cleared, it is only Madness that rests at the table of Space. The Madness of the Astronaut. Truly, truly an astronaut’s life is not free; yet to know the cost of Space is to unequivocally accept the burden, the path same as once walked Christ the Savior.

As the great and wise Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “I dwell at the foot of my height. How high are my peaks? No one has told me yet.” But someone has told me; NASA. For Space is my muse, and Astronaut is my name.