No
time for love
It's
kissing babies, that's all
Dear
Dr. Jones
by GZO
Jones
here
do old Beats go to retire? GZO Jones headed for Brazil. We've found
scant documentation that he can even keep a beat, but that has nothing
to do with the fact that Jones always makes deadline and, one way
or another, never shies away from a question. He likes to consider
himself some sort of missing link between the 1950s and the new
century. We like to consider that he works cheap.
Dear Dr. Jones,
Is Bush serious about resurrecting the space race
and putting more men on the moon?
Signed,
Moonwalking Jackass
Dear Jacko,
Death Race 2000? Not exactly, but current events
sometimes play like a bad Roger Corman movie.
Any average Joe (or Mustafa) can see that all this
manly talk of thrusting into space always shows up at erection,
er, election time. Our Chief of Chiefs probably wants to be identified
with my charismatic old poker buddy who first predicted there would
be a moonshot by '69. It's kissing babies, that's all. He'd start
the program and leave the execution (and subsequent tragedy of dead
astronauts) for the new administration.
Of course, if El Mustachio Grande had been caught
a month earlier, we wouldn't have heard word one about the moon.
What are we going to get from it anyway? A live feed on the net?
I can think of plenty of sites that offer live feed already, and
the moons they show are much more interesting.
So, since NASA probably won't be around much longer,
I see a solution that'll save you American taxpayers lots of bling.
Let the NSA take over! That way, you cut out the middleman in sending
spy satellites and death rays into orbit. And just think, to change
all their signage, they just have to put a piece of duct tape over
that extra "A" ...
Jones
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