SpaceShipThree IS NEEDED FROM VIRGIN GALACTIC: Medusas tempting gaze of stony doom
I had just been raving about the gigantic progress of Virgin Galactic when Halloween of 2014 brought a real scare to those of us who see the commercial space endeavors trickling off Richard Branson’s burgeoning company as the last hope for mankind. SpaceShipTwo of the test bed craft for commercial fights into space crashed and was destroyed testing a new fuel mixture high above the Mojave Desert Friday killing one co-pilot and injuring seriously the pilot. The deaths and injuries are terribly sad, but what is worse is that it is proving too much for the fragile sensibilities of humanity on planet earth and will create irrevocable fear in its wake toward commercial space flight.
Loss of life is always tragic, and is sad for the families. However, those who work as test pilots and adventurers know the risks and understand that death is a constant companion toward breaking the chains that shackle mankind’s freedom to the anchors of earthly conformity—so they risk their lives to chip away at those artificial limitations. In that context the most tragic circumstance of the Halloween disaster for Virgin Galactic—and all those of us who support its endeavors—is the loss of SpaceShipTwo. Although money can replace the $400 million dollar craft, the time and investment of resources which went into building the craft cannot be recovered. This will cause a serious schedule shift in Virgin Galactic’s intentions—which were to launch travelers into space during this upcoming year. It will likely take years to replace SpaceShipTwo meaning that this is a serious delay with the inevitable.
But do not mistake that these will not be the last tragedies. There will be many more, just as there was during the climb into the air with planes. Danger comes with adventure and only with adventure does mankind advance. It is necessary for mankind to scratch at the boundaries which confine it. It is that lack of boundary pushing that has put the clamps on NASA to in its current state—cancelled the Space Shuttle program without a replacement, and left those on earth scrambling for the same resources that they have for the last several thousand years. Those timid creatures of the earth, of the past, of the visibly tangible were too quick to delight in this accident in hopes that it might quell the reach for space by a civilian market place and take the pressure off their nerves imposed by an inner need for adventure.
I’m sure the cause of the crash will become evident and correctable, and once it is I would hope that flight tests would resume. If it were possible I would volunteer to fly today in another craft just to shake off the uncertainty of such tragedies and get the program back on its feet. As sad as it might seem to say it, the reach for space is more important than one life, or even a million lives. It is necessary for the furtherance of mankind—and without it, decay is our destiny.
I hope that Richard Branson will take his magnetic personality and shine it brightly in these dark hours to the lives of those who need it most. There is not time to mourn the dead and dying—because the hour-glass of humanity is emptying quickly—now advanced by this tragedy. The creators of SpaceShipTwo and all those at Virgin Galactic, and Spaceport of America need to get back on the horse quickly and show the world that they will not be timid but will push on to that barrier in the sky called space.
The mind of mankind is bigger than its flesh and earthly limitations. It has evolved into a species that can take abstract considerations and turn them into scientific reality. Space is not a vast empty void, but a land of opportunity. It is not cold and lost, but warm and present—it is there that the solutions to humanities problems reside so fret not over a tragedy while plucking the strings of innovation. Tune the action and try again quickly and without reservation—do it boldly without fear because not to is to retreat into the maw of the plague on earth that grips the mind of all that is terrestrial driven by a lack of resources and vision. Do not surrender to sorrow, but climb aboard the next flight and punch a hole in the sky with sheer determination. Get SpaceShipThree into the sky fast, and put bold adventurers on it equipped with the keys of logic and willpower to unlock that vastness to the encumbered minds of grounded ideology.
It is often said that a “grounded” personality is of the highest order among the human race. But it is they who are the first to point to the tragedy of Virgin Galactic and secretly relish in its tragedy. They are like the shadows in Plato’s cave in The Republic who desire to keep humanity facing a blank wall staring at the dancing shadows cast by firelight guessing what makes the shapes. Their great fear is that humanity might turn around and see that it is they who make the shadows and that behind them outside the cave is a reality they never imagined complete with a vast wilderness of shapes far more interesting. The dreamers and adventurers who break loose from that fixated position are the ones who escape to discover that there is much more to the shadows on a wall than what can be seen viewed from one direction. It should be understood that some will die in that escape, but the prize is worth the tragedy. Being grounded means that one is comfortable being regulated to the illusion of the cave images and not acting on a curiosity of understanding what casts those shadows to begin with. Being a dreamer means to break free to discover the mystery and push beyond those limitations to the real world outside of the control of illusions and dark caves depending on firelight to shape the perceptions of reality.
The ugliest girl I have ever met was the winner of a beauty pageant in Buffalo New York. She was by all measure the epitome of everything a male desires—except for one thing—she was a terrestrial being who hated Star Wars, made sure to let me know that she thought Godzilla movies were stupid, and that the worst film she had seen in during the 1980s was The Right Stuff. I stared at the woman as if she were the Medusa of Greek mythology—sent to earth as a beauty to turn man’s mind to stone and hold him to a terrestrial position forever as a metaphorical block of rock. There are far too many like this supposed beauty who today after the crash of Virgin Galactic’s innovative ambitions into the desert floor of the Mojave are there to soothsay the world into her stony gaze. Leaving that girl at the dinner table alone that evening was one of the best things I have ever done. The next step with her would have earned praise from humanity’s short-sighted grasp of reality—but would have forever bound me to a block of stone cast around my mind equivalent to Medusa’s gaze.
Medusa’s gaze is upon Virigin Galactic now. The temptation to cry for the cameras, to attend every funeral of every test pilot that will now or forever perish during attempts at space are there to hold the feet of mankind to blocks of rock forever claimering it to the jealous arms of mother earth. Medusa is the agent of earth created to keep that mother from crying at night from loneliness as it is but a corpse spinning through space destined to be destroyed by time itself. I beg those at Virgin Galactic to not look into the eyes of Medusa and become fixed like rock into passivity and caution. It is not the death of friends and family that will kill you—it is the loss of the dream to scratch at space that will. It is in allowing SpaceShipThree to become encumbered with red tape and bureaucratic nightmares that will stop the next great leap for mankind to launch into the freedom from earth’s clutches.
Richard Branson is one of the people I most admire. This will be his greatest moment or most perilous failure—for the Medusas of this earth will never let him live it down if he looks into their eyes for even a moment. He cannot get stuck now—the people at Virgin Galactic need to hear quickly that another $400 million dollar craft is ready to go and behind that ship is another, and another, and another. It will take everything Branson has to pull off this miracle now that the world has been tricked through tragedy into staring at the eyes of Medusa and her shadow on the cave wall into being fearful of the death that threatens all who try to escape earth. It is a time for rebellion, a time for adventurers, a time for boldness in breaking free of fear and for the first time stepping away from the nightmares of mythology for a new day beyond the grip of tragedy. SpaceShipThree needs to get into the air quickly! And ONLY Richard Branson can perform the task.
Rich Hoffman
