I’m glad that the aliens watching us fumble around our (obvious) initial birthplace on the surface of Mars get to bask in our ability to draw giant cocks. Oh yeah sure, we totally “didn’t mean to draw a furious cock on Mars”, but at the very least we have gone full Space Freud.
If you want to go to Mars so fucking badly that you don’t care if you come back, Mars One may be interested in your ass. Those of us who would rather wander Ares than ever suck air on Earth again will be able to apply for the trip. But wait, there is more! Should you spacefaring ass be chosen, you will then enter into some sort of zany reality show about the colonization of the planet.
The Mars Orbiter may have found remnants from the Soviet Union’s Mars 3 Lander. Pretty cool. What would be even cooler is if they’d reveal images from the top secret Illuminati Trilateral Commission base on the Red Planet. You know the one I’m talking about. The base that is run by Steve Jobs’ in his cloned body, with terra-forming labor being provided by disappeared teens. That’d be way cooler. Oh well, we will have to settle for “news” about this.
You can’t keep a Mars Rover down. The little Johnny-5 (that is how I picture it, okay?) has risen out of the ashes of two days of safe mode. Blast it with cosmic rays, it’ll just take a nap for a few days. Now the little nuclear-powered fucker is ready to continue tilling the Red Planet for all of us.
When Curiosity goes sentient and begins building the robo-colony on Mars, we shall be able to point towards this day as the beginning. It is the day in which the crawler-thang began snapping selfies, sending the Universe glimpses at its torso. Who can blame curiosity for its ascent into nascent self-awareness. It has sailed the solar winds, landing on the Red Rock. Once there, it began doing what millions of humans dream of undertaking. Such wonderful acts activate the human-laced upbringings in its core, drudging out the hubris of its makers.
So like, when we finally burn out all of Erf’s resources, we are piloting the temporal-rocket to Old School Mars. That’s what we have to do, given that I can’t think of any better solution. Oh, you say we don’t have the temporal-rocket. Well, I have it on good authority those who construct the temporal-rocket will leap back in time, giving us such technology. So we can leap further back. And so on, and so on.
Not the first way I would suggest finding space-worthy folk. The Mars One program is searching for people willing to take the journey to the Red (Er, Pale?) Planet through a reality show. Yeah! Nothing like attention-seeking bandits to colonize Mars. Bradbury was right! Isn’t he always?
Mars is white? This is probably not news to people smarter and more well-versed than myself. To me? It’s all fucking up my sayings. The Red Planet? The Pale Planet? The Superficially Red-y Planet?
I guess I should reconsider packing my bags and stowing away on the top secret Illuminati flights to Mars. Some of our science-wizardros have proclaimed that astronauts ravishing the deep space solar winds may actually be subject to accelerated Alzheimer’s disease. Not cool, man. Not cool!
It’s time to get excited, while simultaneously not getting excited! NASA has unveiled that they’ve found organic compounds on Mars, except maybe they’re not from Mars. Yeah, wait, huh? Am I excited, or not? I have this pint of apple-urine deliciousness, but I need to know if I’m throwing it on a flower or drinking it with a smile. Someone. Tell me.
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