Not Tired of Winning Yet XXXVI
Elon Musk. Remember the name. Space-X Falcon Heavy. Memorize the make and model. 7 February 2018. Recall this day. Tell your grandchildren.
This was the day the Flying Car took wing.
As I recall, under Obama, NASA was being used to flatter and praise Mohammedan savages for their alleged contributions to medieval mathematics and astronomy. Today, NASA is renting its old, underutilized launch pad to private industry.
And, with the typical eccentric panache that private industry can bring to bear on its wondrous accomplishments, this privately-made multistage rocket is launching a car into space. It is a fire-engine-red Tesla roadster, with a dummy in a spacesuit belted into the driver’s seat. The music is on a continuous loop, playing “Life on Mars” by David Bowie. A copy of HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY is tucked into the dashboard. Two of the boosters successfully returned to earth, and landed on their tailfins, just as God and Heinlein intended rockets to land.
Does the current Administration get any share of credit for this? No. But then why is yours truly putting this under the tag of “Not Tired of Winning Yet”? Because I do not think private industry would or could flourish had Hillary won.
Other things would have flourished. The IRS, FBI and the DOJ would have continued to grow more and more rotted and corrupt, and rightwing political speech, press and assembly would have simply been outlawed. More industries would have been taken over as GM or the student finance market was taken over as more depressions and economic emergencies would have hit. The rules currently running colleges (where, for example, a gender-neutral Ivy League school outlaws all men-only or women-only clubs and associations, except for the women-only ones. Those are still allowed.) would by now be imposed on the general public.
All that flourishes now under this administration, under Dem control, would have stagnated. We would have continued to enjoy the 01% growth of the limp and sullen Obama economy, and all the immigrants fleeing ISIS, mixed with ISIS suicide bombers, would have been welcomed in your backyard, but kept far away from the gated communities and fortresses were our elite betters live. To criticize Muslims gunning down gay nightclubs would be punished as a hate-crime. Public displays of crosses on or near any public building would be forbidden. The NFL would have substituted a solemn flag burning ceremony at the beginning of every game.
Shooting your car into space with the radio blasting? Think it would really happen in the People’s Green Unisex Rainbow Republic of Wetbackistan?
Independent of Trump’s endless political victories for conservatism (a philosophy, as far as I can tell, Trump has never supported) his presidency shatters the myth of the Common Wisdom.
We all now know, or could know if we looked, that the news is Fake News; merely a propaganda arm of the Dem Party. We all know, or could if we looked, that university are anti-education facilities. They exist to mock God and drive faith out of the soft brains of conformist youth, replacing brains with garbage.
We all know, or could if we looked, that the Liberals of Hollywood, DC and New York form one filth-choked nest of pederasts, vipers, rapists, harlots, druggies, hypocrites, pharisees, gangsters, blackmailers, murderers, and wild eyed nutbag revolutionaries panting for Karl Marx and yearning for genocide. The daydreams of the Muslim A-Bomb leveling Jerusalem sexually excites them.
The world is turning a corner.
The 1960s are dead, and all the fatuous fools-gold of psychedelic promises made to the youth of those days now ring brassy and false.
The stooped, stupid crooked, sterile and creepy hippies, haunted by the little ghosts of sons and daughters they slew in the womb, brains awash with anti-depressants, tongues slimy with crudity, foulness, blasphemy, nonsense, belligerence, hatred, and Orwellian doubletalk, have made themselves into orcs, trolls, goblins.
No witch who baked a child in an oven killed as many babies as Margaret Sanger. No Svengali mesmerizing a Trilby ever hypnotized a woman into brainlessness more completely than Feminists have zombified a whole generation of young women, now forever unfit to be wives, companions, lovers, mothers, grandmothers.
But all these fairy tale monsters are old and dying. The wicked witches grow more gray each year. The crooked and sagging plutocrats and the newspapers sell fewer and fewer each month. Youtube and Google form a last stronghold of censorship and thought-control. A single anti-trust suit could flatten their fortress walls like the trumpet of Joshua before Jericho.
So, perhaps Trump had nothing to do with this. Perhaps Elon Musk would have found a way, despite the Hillary administration, to launch a private rocket. Perhaps.
But the world has turned a corner, and I am not tired of winning yet.
Musk will colonize Mars next.
My book, COUNT TO A TRILLION, was written in a season when all men of clear vision saw that we had been robbed of our dreams, and that the future was never going to arrive. Where was my jetpack? Where were our flying cars?
I hope that book will sell well, but I will be happy to have it read by a generation looking back on such times with nostalgia, as we now read Cold War era tales about Pournelle’s CoDominium.
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FOR YOUR EDIFICATION: as a public service, I here provide a map of each and every country which has launched an automobile into outerspace. All space-car nations are shown in green:
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
