Martians and pixie dust

I’m usually pretty good about not venting my spleen on inanimate objects, but I really had a fit the other day when I heard someone on the radio complaining that only 55% of NASA’s missions to Mars have been successful.

“What the hell do you want, you effing microcephaloid?” I screamed, froth spattering the innocent radio. “It’s another PLANET! You slash an agency’s budget repeatedly and they STILL come up with a plan for interplanetary exploration—one that is currently succeeding—and you have the gall to complain, you mental pygmy?”

My ire almost obscured the important fact: the Phoenix landed on Mars and started sending back pictures. You should check them out, here.

O.
M.
G.

Sign me up. I’m dazzled. If I ran the zoo, a crewed mission would already be heading to Mars.

And then I read about a procedure that may help a wounded U.S. soldier regrow his fingers. Regrow. In addition to surgery, the doctors (specialists in regenerative medicine) use a powder to trick the body into regenerating cells. Nicknamed “pixie dust,” it’s derived from pig tissue. It’s still in the experimental stage, but has amazing potential.

To paraphrase one of the doctors working on the procedure, “science fiction eventually becomes true.” This is what reassures me, when it seems like the weasels are closing in. We can do amazing things, when we put our minds to it. More science, more education, not less. When I run the zoo, my comprehensive education plan will make Jed Bartlet look like Mr. Squeers.

But in the meantime, I’ve stopped hissing and spitting at the radio and started skipping. Just a little.