Martian Fait Accompli
Prepare yourselves for an informal gambit whose author enjoys too much wine on each and every sometimes other day. In 2020, my too close acquaintance and I made a bet on a noble gambling<link> website. Our bet;
> “By 2035 there will be at least 10 people living on Mars for a period of more than 2 months.”
I’m Mr Davis if you haven’t realized, and this friend I consider utterly close is Mr Burchill. I don’t actually care for the bet, because even as observant of my obdurate side as I am, it wouldn’t convince me that Mr Burchill’s optimism is nothing but an obviously loving, 7th order thinking kind of man who in the moment we placed the bet decided on humanity. To speak for him, “Let’s just give love a chance”, Burchill, a challenge made should be a challenge met.
Nay, sitting around thinking about this five years later, basking in glory, I always think how to make the better and or other (Burchill) win — My thought (experiment) (actually a completely tangential proposition);
> The first ten pioneers who get there, fireball or flesh, should be chosen wisely. Does it matter if we send those who think and like loneliness. Or people who are just not that dumb, but like danger for all the benefits that danger gives. We should choose the individuals from ten different Earthian nations, ten last identifying bastions of human spirit. Ten last good reasons to explain why we are all unique and or not. This writing is meant to promote the joyful side of things, there is not enough space for one rock guest here. In the early 21st century, ten individuals from ten different nations will get the chance to properly experience. To experience what surely everyone else experiences, though through their exception a privilege only they will get given, a wave of cosmic thought. I cannot stop my attempt at poetry, but now imagine, and imagine with me, that this earth's borders might mean nothing, if ten different Eathian land nations are stuck, stuck somewhere else, stuck that each individual nation might want to rescue that one person, that one person or thing that represents thee. If at another attempt for universal peace, we take our enemies, hold their hands and shoot ourselves together into space. So long winded this paragraph is, If I were capable of brevity, I’d say, shooting ten different nations into space might just be our only chance of peace.
A simple and lame idea, a plethora of film, books and utterances have suggested that an alien invasion could be something that makes us come together. Ugh, I had to google this word “brinkmanship”, and here we sit, having to think, that all these other degenerate countries can and are able to place their “best” in the expansive everness. The problem with self interest is only men like me can express it. And that conflict consequently follows, perhaps, the only way that cooperative equilibrium can work is that it should encourage many, many, deaths.
Think of a national thing, properly, oh how foul and almost suss, how we feel and wonder about these bounded feelings. And what we would do for our national hero victim or victim hero.
Send ten of the ugliest of us, either providence provides, or the ugly thrive.