Blog, or be blogged
Metal cylinder burn through world. Fiery screams. Awe. Terror. Much death.
Silence.
The hot thing stand on The Under. Then. Open. Emerging, moving.
New sounds: “. . . and remove your helmets. . . Wow, this is fantastic; get a few lungfuls of this atmosphere. . . Better than Earth’s. . . I could breathe this all day. . .”
Families. Friends. Mutilated. Gone.
Metal cylinder burn through world. Fiery screams. Awe. Terror. Much death.
Silence.
The hot thing stand on The Under. Then. Open. Emerging, moving.
New sounds: “. . . and remove your helmets. . . Wow, this is fantastic; get a few lungfuls of this atmosphere. . . Better than Earth’s. . . I could breathe this all day. . .”
Families. Friends. Mutilated. Gone.
The plump, balding psychoanalyst shifted in his chocolate-brown Naugahyde Execu-Chair. He looked down briefly, then up, his expression a mask. The air-conditioner hummed softly as he spoke to the large, battle-scarred warrior sitting on the client side of the white Formica desk.
The plump, balding psychoanalyst shifted in his chocolate-brown Naugahyde Execu-Chair. He looked down briefly, then up, his expression a mask. The air-conditioner hummed softly as he spoke to the large, battle-scarred warrior sitting on the client side of the white Formica desk.
Just before midnight on a Saturday, a young astronomer in Puerto Rico became the first to spot the small object sputtering toward the sun. It came in past Pluto, riding a spark that moved clearly against the millions of hard, bright stars behind it. Within two hours of e-mailing his colleagues at various universities and institutions, the young astronomer became temporarily famous, his news roaring around the globe in a vast electronic exhalation. As the next few days passed, everyone but infants and the infirm became engrossed in the progress of what was now clearly an interstellar vehicle, steadily moving toward the big, blue egg called Earth.
That’s right, you saw me on “Oprah” and “Donahue.” And I’ll betcha my last beer you’re wondering what kind of chucklehead would’ve done it. Well, let me explain by telling you that only one word describes the Ultimate Joyride: totally awesome. And that’s what it was, a joyride. If it wasn’t, you think I’d be sitting here telling you about it? Like my lawyer said, I didn’t intend to steal the plane, I intended to go for a joyride. It ain’t even grand-theft jet.
Just before midnight on a Saturday, a young astronomer in Puerto Rico became the first to spot the small object sputtering toward the sun. It came in past Pluto, riding a spark that moved clearly against the millions of hard, bright stars behind it. Within two hours of e-mailing his colleagues at various universities and institutions, the young astronomer became temporarily famous, his news roaring around the globe in a vast electronic exhalation. As the next few days passed, everyone but infants and the infirm became engrossed in the progress of what was now clearly an interstellar vehicle, steadily moving toward the big, blue egg called Earth.
That’s right, you saw me on “Oprah” and “Donahue.” And I’ll betcha my last beer you’re wondering what kind of chucklehead would’ve done it. Well, let me explain by telling you that only one word describes the Ultimate Joyride: totally awesome. And that’s what it was, a joyride. If it wasn’t, you think I’d be sitting here telling you about it? Like my lawyer said, I didn’t intend to steal the plane, I intended to go for a joyride. It ain’t even grand-theft jet.
