second contact

Maybe the mystery of outer-space was more fresh sixty years ago, in the days before people really knew the amount of effort and resources required just to keep a person alive for any length of time in a tiny steel bubble up there. Sometimes it seems as if the only reason to keep up the charade is to prevent ourselves from looking thoroughly ridiculous in the history books. Or else the funding will dry up if someone isn't pushing for progress: the use-it-or-lose-it effect. All a space programme needs is one really grand discovery now and then to reawaken the glory days and to get everyone talking, writing, what-have-you, again. The human imagination needs to be engaged. It's difficult to make that happen en masse. So much specialized factual knowledge is required to get within ten miles of spitting distance of the reality of space travel now. Sixty years ago when the Martians were in everybody's head, from N.A.S.A. scientist, to Russian cosmo-naut, to school-aged children, imagining was easy. Now it's gotten to damned difficult. What better reason to become a devoted, nerdy, be-spectacled science-fiction nerd? Make second contact!