It looked like an eviscerating wound. Seppuku, a broad, crimson diagonal slash.
I hadn't expected that. But at least they died coming home.
Monday morning, and I'm ready to start thinking about this. I hope it makes us more determined. I hope it wasn't the same kind of stupid, PR-based, not-taking-enough-time mistake it was in 1986. I really miss Richard Feynman right about now.
I hope this makes us more determined. I applaud the Russians, who have chosen to maintain their launch schedule. I believe the world is an egg, and if we don't climb out of it we'll suffocate in it.
Death closes all; but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come my friends.
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,--
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
--Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "Ulysses"
It's not over until it's over, and what would they have wanted us to do? Crawl home? Or honor them with courage?
If you get where you were going, maybe it's not so bad to never make it home.