No time is the wrong time

For space rock opera.  Last night, I was wandering alone in the darkness, with just a cranky yellow-tinged moon and a sputtering cold white flashlight for illumination.  My spirits sunk exceedingly low.  And then my stalwart mp3 player coughed up Muse's Exogenesis Symphony.  I hadn't paid much heed to it before, but it swept me out of the black hole.

Admittedly, I'm not intellectually keen on exogenesis: scientifically, as the basis for the origins of life, it doesn't seem to fly*, and as an enterprise that would bail us out of a destroyed future Earth, it would chiefly be a repopulation of the hubris and greed that led us to that desecration in the first place (although, it would be cool to visit Mars because the landscape there is stunning, but could I accept the ethical ramifications of being a space tourist?)....anyway, exogenesis isn't convincing, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate its inspired art and hours of contemplation.  And I enjoyed both two nights ago in the dark forest!

Meanwhile, back on Planet Earth, I'm recovering from this ultra more quickly than from the first one, but walking is still not a walk in the park.  I took the dog for a stroll and he sighed at my athletic decrepitude, and then tried to take advantage of it.  Ha, nice try, hotshot, no way I'm going to let you pee on that mailbox.  Anyway, the stiffness and the discomfort are going away surprisingly quickly, but I've learned my lesson: I'm going to allow myself more recovery this time.  No more running until February at least!  See you later!





* wouldn't the friction of atmospheric entry incinerate everything on an object's surface?  Perhaps bacteria residing deep within a meteorite could survive unscathed...admittedly, I have more reading to do, and these might be reputable places to start: Astrobiology Magazine and International Journal of Astrobiology.   I had no idea that this was such a robust field.  The most poignant abstract I've ever read.   I might have to rent the full article.