Before we get started, I’d like to let you all know that next week we will have a special guest blogger, the multi-talented and super-cool Christa Yelich Koth. She has several graphic novels/comic books out, and her sci-fi novel Illusion will be out this August. Take a jaunt over to her website to pre-order now. All the normal rules for the challenge will apply, only it will be her you throw under the bus.
Speaking of the bus, I can’t believe it, there is actually a four way tie for this week. The winners and their topics are as follows:
Chris: The secret to happiness
Jennifer: Racism in America
Kit: Three reasons why “Pigs in Space” is a reasonable name for my artistic endeavor.
The artistic endeavor Kit is referring to is my plan to form a club/group of artists, writers, musicians, dancers, etc. that are dedicated to creating works that will inspire humanity to travel to the stars. Our first trip will be an overnight observation at the 100” Hooker Telescope, the very one Edwin Hubble used to prove our universe is expanding. Message me if you want in. Seriously, I need more people to make this work.
Kit’s (semi) facetious suggestion of naming the group Pigs in Space is not without merit. If we were to travel to another solar system with current technology, it would take generations to get there. We would need a steady source of protein, and pigs would be a fantastic source. They would eat all the scraps of crappy space food that no one really wants to eat, and give us bacon in return. BACON IN SPACE! Maybe that should be the name of the club. We’ll get hipsters to ironically donate their parent’s fortunes in minutes.
However, one issue with having a drift of pigs in an enclosed capsule hurtling through the vacuum of space is, as Dr. Rachel Armstrong of Project Persephone (seriously, check it out) said to me a couple years ago, “What do you do with all the shit?” As she pointed out, you can’t just jettison it all out an airlock. Over time you will lose all your biomass and will have nothing left to grow new food. The shit is important. The shit is vital. Everyone’s shit, not just the pigs. You can tell someone’s health by their shit. You can fertilize your crops. And, according to Inspiration Mars, you can even protect yourself from the ravages of solar radiation if you smear it on the walls of the ship like a petulant toddler.
As far as pigs are concerned, shit is the ultimate path to happiness. Hence, the phrase “As happy as a pig in shit.” Pigs know about happiness. They have no worries. They live in the moment without concern for the past or worry for the future. The only thing happier than pigs in shit, is Pigs in Space, which is yet another good reason for that to be the name of the club. It is well known that the happiest time in a child of my generation’s life was when Pigs in Space was on TV. If ever you want to know the key to happiness, look to the Muppets. They have it figured out. Friends and laughter. That’s it. Surround yourself with happy people that don’t take themselves too seriously, aren’t afraid to be the butt of a joke or two, and know the joy of a good pun. Sure, the Muppets have their issues. They fight now and then, but at the end of the day, they have nothing but love for each other no matter the color, or texture, of their fur. They don’t judge one another based on how they look. Pigs love frogs, rats are best friends with weirdos, and there is even a hippie in a band that DOESN’T suck.
The Muppets should be role models for all of America. Which is a third reason Pigs in Space is a good name. It’s time we learned to accept one another as they do, because everything we strive for will be for naught if we can’t learn to work together. America was founded on the principle that all humans were created equal. I know, I know, a bunch of the founders had slaves, and it took the bloodiest war in American history to disallow people owning other people, and after they were freed they only got 3/5 of a vote, but that was because of a simple problem, easily explained. Half of the country was (is) made up of legit stupid people.
Thousands of years ago some dipshit named Aristotle came up with a thing called the Great Chain of Being. Basically, it’s a listing of life and matter that starts at the top with God, down through the angels, humans, animals, and then rocks and minerals. This concept was one of the major early arguments against Darwin’s Great Idea. According to this chain, Europeans were the only fully human creatures on the chain. Africans, Asians, Native Americans, and so forth, were somewhere lower on the chain. Africans, they figured, were about 3/5th of the way between primate and white people. Fucking dipshits. If only they realized that Africans were the true humans and everyone else were subsets that evolved after the second great diaspora, things in Baltimore might be a little less fucked up.
Muppets, I say. Look to the Muppets. Kermit will lead us to the promise land of acceptance.
Now, having said all that, Pigs in Space is a dumb fucking name. No way in hell will I name a serious endeavor to inspire people to travel to the stars something so fatuous.
Thanks for reading, and, as always, let me know in the comments how I got everything wrong.
P.S. Stay tuned for next week’s special Throw Christa Under the Bus Blog Challenge.