Space: The Silent Killer (Even if You’re Screaming)

All the hype around Beth Revis’s new book A Million Suns has got me thinking about more than just romantic space travels. See, I was reading Reddit the other day (don’t judge me, please!) and one Redditor posted a question about whether or not people would be willing to volunteer for a generational space flight to colonize a new planet. (For you n00bs who don’t know what a generational ship is all about, click here.)

My first response to the question would be, “NO EFFING WAY.” See, I’m not too keen on the idea of living out my days on a airtight tomb even if I would be remembered for all time as the awesome guy who volunteered to die in a box. Maybe that makes me a l4m3-o, but the thought of my descendants getting the sweet payoff for all my hard work really burns my cakes. I’m down for colonizing other planets, but not only if it means I get to be the one who sees Earth 2.

Are we there yet?

If you’ve read my blog before then you know that space terrifies me. It’s big, cold, and unable to convey the sounds waves produced by a shrieking human voice. However, I do like the idea of space travel. If someone could hook up a space ship with warp drives and replicators then I might be down for an interstellar excursion. I’d prefer there be force fields as well à la Star Trek just in case of a hull breach–you know, to keep the drafty vacuum of space from sucking my blood through my pores–but their absence wouldn’t be a total deal-breaker. Oh, and a holodeck for those moments when you get sick of contemplating your insignificance compared to the vast nothing of space. If you read Revis’s first book then you know that sort of thinking ends up in suicide by airlock.

So what would you do? Would you be the one raising your hand to go? Or would you be like me and try to dodge the get-shot-into-space bullet? Don’t be ashamed if you’re a chicken.

Actually, be a little ashamed.

[image from here]


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