To hear science tell it, here’s how they’d likely put last week’s news nugget: “Kimberly Guilfoyle, a 51-year-old California native, tested positive for COVID-19, joining a staggering 2.92 million Americans who have contracted the virus, which has already killed more than 132,000 U.S. citizens and more than a half million Earth residents since December 2019.”
Science is just too reserved and self-respecting to tell the American public, Seeeee?
I, however, have no such restraint or self respect, nor a reason find either. So let me tell you what science wanted to say when it saw the headlines.We found it in a file labeled “when I’m dead and gone” after we hacked the lord’s computer to decipher the message many believe was sent from the heavens but wound up in our cultural spam box:
I don’t care what the scientists say; hydrogen is not the most common element in the universe. Neither is helium.
It’s irony.
After all, what darker humor than to bestow the ultimate gift, life, only to saddled it with the ultimate bill, death? Black holes are nature’s knock-knock joke.
And she recently pranked the Tulsa World.
Nearly four years ago, the World, a 115-year old newspaper and an institution in the Sooner state, put this political cartoon above its editorial on who it was endorsing in the upcoming 2016 presidential election.
Its endorsement? No one.
This was its headline: Tulsa World Editorial endorsement: For president? None of the above
“Since 1940, the Tulsa World has consistently endorsed the Republican nominee for president,” the column began. “But we’re not willing to do that this time. Neither are we willing to endorse the Democratic candidate or any other candidate.”
What an utter abdication of the only rule and role of media: to help people make informed decisions. What is media’s reason for being if not that service?
Instead, the World became an avatar for the Country; too cynical about the process to bother trying. Pardon the fury at brethren on this issue, but those assholes should have at least found the best independent candidate, or write-in candidate, or even written in one itself. Nominate a fucking dog. The point is, do something. If you won’t, how can you expect others to?
Here was the astounding fortune cookie wisdom that ended the “editorial”: “We encourage all voters to participate in the election and to follow their consciences in making the best choice from the least acceptable list of candidates for president in modern times. We won’t be endorsing any of them.”
You go ahead and march, the story essentially said. But leave us out of it. The World acted like an average American: disinterested until it’s at the doorstep.
Well, it’s knocking now, particularly for Republicans. After not taking a stand on the prospect of a Donald Trump presidency, the World must now take a stand on a Donald Trump rally.
“We don’t know why he chose Tulsa,” the World editorial board wrote this week, “but we can’t see any way that his visit will be good for the city.”
Come on, dispshits. You know exactly why he chose Tulsa — and it’s not just because it coincides with the 99th anniversary of the slaughter of 300 black people there, though you can bet that’s one of the primary reasons.
But it’s also because of the Tulsa populace, which loves to make America great again. It’s because of the thousands that will chant the great leader’s name — after they’ve signed a waiver pledging they won’t sue him if they contract COVID. That a real prerequisite of the rally.
And it’s because you, the World, did not speak up when you had the chance. So don’t be surprised when your pleas fall of deaf ears. Nor when Darwin thins the herd. Mother Nature is not only sarcastic; she punishes those who aren’t clever.
Looks like the universe punked you, Oklahoma. Twice, actually. You decided to ignore the coming plague, and now you’ve noticed a lesion on your face.
God knows, sharks patrol these waters whenever Donald Trump (or fans of the imbecile) enter them.
But this is honest praise for an idea of the Pumpkin-in-Chief: The Space Force.
Donnie has taken quite a pummeling on the late-show circuit for the idea, which became a clever Netflix comedy. Even serious news outlets couldn’t resist taking a jab at the notion, including noting how similar the emblem is to the iconic Star Trek insignia.
But let’s resist the irresistible for a moment to seriously consider the notion.
It ain’t bad.
Consider: Every government dollar that goes toward the agency is a dollar NOT spent on an absurd border wall (though, granted, that endeavor is always going to be flush with cash as long as the dimwit and his cronies are in office).
But more importantly, this is the rare instance when GOP money (and interest) is dedicated toward a real scientific pursuit, not on debunking one — like the administration’s orchestrated effort to undermine findings on, say, global warming. Or a pandemic.
Imagine for a moment that Trump wants the fastest spaceships to round up future immigrants who he believes will fly into orbit and descend smack dab in the middle of the country, bypassing his glorious wall. Or he wants to build a Trump hotel-casino on Mars.
Ridiculous? Of course. But so is accusing a 75-year-old of intentionally cracking his head open in a presidential conspiracy. The guy puts the dic in ridiculous.
But Elon Musk wants to colonize the red planet, too.
And give Trump this: Few presidents have a political party as obedient as Trump. And if he wants dominion over the galaxy, you know Mitch McConnell and Sean Hannity will literally move heaven and earth to provide the echo chamber of agreement Trump craves — and demands.
In doing so, scientists would be tasked with valid challenges things like improving how quickly we move through the cosmos. Legitimate scientists have been pursuing light speed capability since we learned the concept.
And that casino on Mars? That would mean exploring ways to terraform a planet, another dream of scientists (and considered by some of them an option for an overheating Earth).
History has proven that wild scientific pursuits produce real-world breakthroughs. Kennedy was roundly criticized for his moon landing promise. Critics initially called the $25.4 billion exercise nothing more than a vanity project. But it helped produce more than 6,300 technologies, including the CAT scanner, freeze-dried foods, satellite television, memory foam and the joystick. NASA partnered with Black & Decker to invent various battery-powered tools for drilling and taking rock samples in space, which led to the creation of the DustBuster.
So let’s not unilaterally dismiss Dumbo’s ideas. Some of those big-eared notions might have the power to fly.