Disinfo Stratosphere

C-SPAN rocks when Mr. Hughes is temporarily housed and watching. Early a.m. in the House of Representatives is a bit like 1970's "Open Mike Night" at the college town, pot smoke haze, marijuana a $10 ticket coffee house/tea room. Do those people work three days a week? I think so, but you can always "buttonhole" them on the weekend when they come home and hear gripes about the Wall Street Journal verified lack of jobs, jobs, jobs.

That's why the reps started hollering "Tanker, tanker, tanker!" with Mr. Hughes watching. As I like to say, "They know things." Well, what I know is I make money either way with the USAF E.T.-chasin' European consortium, or possibly some home cookin' in Washington State. Back in early 2008, I liked the Air Force idea, but that was before a national mugging, so now I'd say maybe Seattle needs some jingle for more dark roast. Dirty, dirty, dirty either way, Jose!

No one has been very kind to me for years and years until lately. The downfall "procedure" starts in a manner described by singer/songwriter Sheryl Crow as involving snipers on the roof, and you may have chalked-up those lyrics as artistic license, but I'm here to tell you it's real.

Let's dispense with a Missouri-based inside joke as I ask, "Crow, is it Cicero's or Talanya's for pizza?" On the former, I'm quite sure U. City Loop widebody thugs would help us out to such a degree, we could take a window seat, whereas at the other location, I know for a fact the policeman dines there, especially when Mr. Hughes is waiting on carry-out. To be more succinct, I think our security could be guaranteed in either location, but by who we dare not ask.

Galloping on to the topic, I frankly think Sally Ride needs her head examined by a qualified professional, because flying that shuttle until 2014 on a shoestring is going to, I fear, lead to 21 of something or other, and that's not a lucky number in this context. NASA, did you say "de-orbit" the International Space Station in 2016? Why not right now? Yes, Apollo explorers, as opposed to spyonauts, agree with me on the bad boy activity aboard that big waste of time and money.

Moving on to the Defense Pentagon, Soldier Boy could not look worse with with crackpot satellite protective schemes so poorly thought out, the MIT man was heard howling, "What the hell are we doing?" What the problem is we indeed "need to know," but with what they present for public consumption, it looks to me like we will need an Exxon-Mobil station halfway to Mars, and I just don't see that as feasible, although once again, I'd make money on the deal.

Ready for a full-scale nuclear attack on these United States, soldier? I don't think so, when 500 million in the 2011 budget that was earmarked for studying "Space Situational Awareness (SSA) got pushed back to 2015, and believe it or not, as a homeless person, I'm right on top of this concept when fat ladies block the aisle in Ralph's as they reach for a box of Frosted Flakes.

What did Tony the Tiger say? Grrrrreat! Uh, not applicable, I'm afraid, with the "Three Middle East wars + mini-depression + cuckoo bird space "program." I'm not Barack Obama, but I suspect he's going to trash NASA's house in a bad way, and that's just a crying shame from these quarters, considering my 8 mm film and one-quarter inch audio tape of the Apollo 11 landing are being held hostage by extremists of some sort.

At least I'm out, as Navy grandma would say, "running around," but that has yet to secure my place at the table in a military/civilian space race non-program that is as confused and archaic as the tiny LEM computer that really did put us on the moon. When the alarms were going off in July, 1969 the 14 year-old version of me knew what they meant, and I kept thinking, "Don't turn back." My latest joke line on this? Neil Armstrong, I gather, is a lot like me, so he won't want to meet me, but maybe "Buzz" will.

Navy knew I could hit the big floating hook all of these years, and this is what I got? Say it is right, just, legal, or moral. Go ahead...make my day.