LIFT-OFF

They’re out there. They’re in space. They’re up there, above us, doing things around our planet. You know, our astronauts. They’re at the cutting edge of technology. They’re doing the job little kiddies dream of. So why aren’t I impressed?

I remember the science fiction of the 1960s, when I was a little kiddie. Lots of it was way over the top, but some made sense – such as being on Mars by the end of the 20th century; such as sending small interstellar craft to the heavens by now.

 None of it ever happened. It was all on the drawing board – ion drives, Bussard ramscoops to collect hydrogen fuel on the way, pulsed mini-nuclear explosions to accelerate a small probe to 4% the speed of light. It might have made Alpha Centurai by the time I died, but at least it would have been something.

We are sitting on an overcrowded planet with the technology but without the will. We are developing a kind of phobia, unable to reach out for our destiny, which can only be to explore and colonise space. But instead we’re up there in orbit, pretending that we have a space program and not a high atmosphere one.

We’re up there, but only just – like flies buzzing around something dead.

 © Anthony North, Feb 2007

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