“Hot enough for ya?”
It’s a question asked by those without any questions left. The last inquiry of a person running out of things to say. There’s a smugness to it. A preening, posturing mode of conversation that leaves the answerer floundering and annoyed. It’s a little mean, too. And yet, you probably want to go to Mars. You’re tired of enduring 90-degree heat on earth, thinking to yourself, “It is hot enough for me here. I’d like to try my chances somewhere a bit cooler. How does negative 81 sound? Who cares? How does it feel?”
Whether from government stooges or private sector fools, there’s so much talk about Mars these days. Somehow a consensus formed that this is the planet we should relocate to. It’s got it all, which is to say, it’s got nothing. Earth has its problems, believe me, but if you’re planning on terraforming huge swaths of Martian land, have you considered a trip to Yosemite?
Going to Mars misses the mark. It’s a distraction. You want to ditch our planet for something better, then pick a destination that has a little more to offer. Martian exploration is proof of a civilization settling. Think about it. One of the red planet’s selling points is how close it is. To me, that’s not much of a reason. Let’s say there was a terrible fast food restaurant that’s open 24 hours a day, around the corner from my home. Call it the The Hoagie Hole: where appetites comes to die. Does proximity alone demand I patronize this problematic establishment? Certainly not. I must widen my scope and seek satiation elsewhere.
The problem with Mars is that it’s not nearly ambitious enough. Sure, earth is barreling headlong towards disaster, but I’m still not compromising my standards. We can do better. We can do much better. Instead of going around the corner, let’s work on inter-dimensional travel.
Mars isn’t the answer, people. If I’m going to seriously consider leaving this planet for another one, I need to break even. That shouldn't be too much to ask. That means sizzling oceans, crisp air, clam bars, reliable delis and smooth highways for impromptu pleasure cruises. I bet you won't find a single one of those things on Mars.
I hear all the time from mindless Martian malcontents, “Mars was just like the Earth a few billion years ago.” Can’t we accept we’re too late? You don’t go to a party the morning after, grabbing half-empty solo cups, unclaimed pieces of pizza crust and – wait a minute, are those dunkaroos?! - and tell yourself “this is great. What a scene. And such good food.” You admit that your timing was off. Only in the case of Mars, instead of it being off by a few hours, it’s off by a few billion years.
There’s no going back to when Mars used to be cool. And to think, they didn’t even need human beings to destroy their planet. What can we possibly offer? We can’t even ruin it. It’s like buying a pre-broken gift. The only reason to go to Mars would be in the off chance there are a few Martians left, passing their time baking bread and raking dirt. Aside from them, what and who are we going for?
51 years ago today Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin made mankind’s first lunar impression. Their mistake was coming home. Had they stayed, who knows what would be there by now? A bowling alley where the pins float? A strip mall where the shirts don’t need hangers? They could’ve hung out, installing hammocks around the Sea of Tranquility, preparing for their next big adventure.
You’re better off on Earth, where there's still so much left to destroy.
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