Switched off the news. Self has had enough of the crazy for one day: Idiots in airports ganging up on a Democrat, crazy woman shrieking at Chuck Schumer and interrupting his speech just as he was about to get to the good parts (“My first amendment rights!” Listen, Lady, if all you’re going to do is scream xx@@## at the top of your voice, it’s self’s first amendment rights you are violating!), and the most delightful moment of her week: POTUS looking fresh as a daisy, saying Nah Nah Nah to a reporter who asks him about his second impeachment.
Anyhoo, back to The Relentless Moon, which is exciting as all get-out. An intrepid band of astronauts and Moon colonists have had to make a crash-landing, and one of the lady astronauts, whose husband is a pilot, has to watch as the colonists are helped off the ship to the surface of the moon (a drop equal to the height of a five-story building, but it’s in 1/6 gravity), and her husband takes over the controls (The main pilot broke her arm in the crash landing) to make sure he keeps the ship upright so everyone is safe. After, he —
Half of the ship is in 173-degree Celsius heat, the other is in deep shadow and cold. They all stand and watch as —
“White plumes kicked out.” The pilot on the ship fired its thrusters, “sharp, quick bursts fired in sequence.”
Just read the book. Holy cow. Self is dead.
Kanlaon 