On Space Junk; Guns!

On Space Junk
Today I considered what sort of jobs might be required in the future. I mean this in a generalized way, not in the What The Fuck Am I Doing With My Life way that is so frequently discussed here. The impetus for this consideration was the most recent Science in Action podcast from the BBC. They had a guest who was talking about all the debris we are accumulating around the planet--old satellites, space stations, et cetera--and how we need to start now with a method to get it out of the air before it really becomes a problem. Since I was listening to this at work, the time of day when my thoughts wander freely while my fingers do the work (the typing work, you perverts), I then imagined some years in the future when the earth is essentially surrounded by a giant wall of space junk. The Great Wall of Space Junk, if you will. This limits our space travel, even though we have the technology to reach space, since governments and private corporations (probably more private corporations by now, I am thinking) don't want to damage the still-expensive-to-produce equiptment by trying to get them through the Great Wall. As such, a new sort of freelancer develops to get rid of all the junk. It would pay a lot because it would be really dangerous. These Space Junkers (or Junkers, I guess they would be called) would have to fly large enough ships to haul the junk, but small enough so that they could manouver. The Junkers would, presumably, be paid by volume of junk moved. So they'd have to either incinerate it, or maybe be short-sighted and pile it up on some other planet, or the moon. I think that could be a good anime.

On Guns!
My friends invited to me to go shoot guns! with them on Saturday, so despite reservations about shooting things, I went along. I ended up declining to shoot at all, as it really didn't appeal to me. As such, I ended up standing around in the desert for several hours, taking pictures of other people shooting guns! and getting a sunburn. I fail to grasp the entertainment value in shooting up empty liquour bottles and an old TV. I guess I'm just too much of a pacifist, or something. Since we were out in the desert, I wanted to go see the dinosaurs and eat at the Wheel Inn, but unfortunately, I couldn't muster up enough enthusiasm from the group to do so. Pretty fucking lame, if you ask me. At least I got a few pictures of the desert.