Grasping In Spite of One's Reach

I was eleven months old when Neil Armstrong stepped out onto the lunar surface in July 1969. After a rowdy evening where admittedly I probably drank a little too much warm milk, regrettably I slept right through the whole thing.

I think in large part thanks to the imagery, sound and the sheer magic of the movie Apollo 13, which itself told an entirely different but still amazing tale of team work and never-say-die spirit, I find myself somewhat moved as I've been glued to the televisual docu-fest this month marking Apollo 11's fortieth anniversary. The story of the first moon landing feels much more palpable and real this time around, and I think my emotions are mostly stirred by a fresh appreciation of just what was achieved in a technological era when most people never had telephones or colour televisions in their homes, nevermind the abundant technology most of us enjoy today.

The Apollo missions were a such truly astounding collective achievement that they defeat even the most overblown hyperbole. And I do wonder if we'll ever see a group of people come together to grasp something so far beyond their reach.

Buzz Aldrin, the de facto Apollo 11 spokesman ever since Armstrong slipped into his self-imposed communications exile not long after completing his NASA duties, is right to bemoan the fact that fresh plans are underway to send new manned missions back to the Moon. While I concede there will be no doubt be useful scientific benefit in returning to the Moon - where no doubt we'll set up an internet node or wireless access point, Aldrin is right to ask; where's the ambition? where's that spirit that launched three people in a tin can forty years ago? why are we not aiming for Mars?

Why not indeed.


Update: This article by sci-fi writer Charles Stross goes a long way towards explaining why we won't be going back even to the moon any time soon.