“Space: the final frontier.”
How many were drawn here by this simple compelling sentiment? It’s amazing what a few words can do in terms of insinuating an idea into the culture. Even in the old reruns shown when I was a kid, the basic idea still resonated. Space was the place where one could be bold, brave, adventurous, legendary. And still, with the benefit of my seven weeks here in the heavens so far, the picture requires more detail:
Space is mystical. For as long as humans gazed upward, the stars have beckoned, a flickering beacon of destiny forever calling us forth. Or something like that! But hey, putting aside my mediocre poetry skills, it does feel a bit like a Middle Earth fantasy excursion. Everything here has meaning, poignancy, depth.
Space is queer. Seriously: people (mostly men, until recently) living in super close quarters, colorful flashing lights everywhere, the ballet of zero-gravity floating, the symphony of the cosmos. Space is queer like how war is queer, when you think about it: fabulous uniforms and excellent choreography. Continue Reading