Cocaine at NASA!
Hard to blame 'em. These are melancholy months at the Space Center. An employee recently fell to his death on the launch pad, and very soon the gracefully aging Atlantis shall embark upon the farewell voyage of the shuttle program. General interest in space exploration has waned almost into nonexistence since the hero-worshiping days of Yeager and Armstrong, and there's a prevailing sense among those few NASA junkies who remain that the really exciting spacework will now be outsourced to bloodless libertarians like Elon Muske.
Which kind of makes you wonder: Why the hell isn't NASA celebrating its newfound, powdery bounty? This, after all, is an institution that has conducted low-orbital experiments on bone development in foetal quail -- how is that more exciting, or more relevant to our futures, than cokeheads in space? I'll tell you -- nothing has the potential to inspire fresh interest in our moribund space program like a bunch of highly educated astronauts doing lines in zero g. It's more than science -- it's a reality program. NASA, get on it.
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