Peering into the space program.
I love NASA and the whole space program concept. I love rocket ships, satellites, outer space, and all the stuff you can find stuck inside it; like the Sun, for example. I love the fact that NASA offers not just a vision but, to some, even a hope. There are those who believe that we are not alone and fervently search the stars for any sign of life, while others, evidently not convinced that loneliness is the problem, are looking to colonize the moon on account of overcrowding.
But for the vast majority, NASA represents not just a culmination of human vision and determination but, more importantly, it represents the essence of pure, untarnished testosterone–a colossal bastion of maleness to which 
we can all look for encouragement in these troubling times wherein we seem at every moment surrounded by the Loud Obnoxious Women Who Wish They Were Men.
But who can blame them, these Loud Obnoxious Women Who Wish They Were Men (henceforth: “Feminists”)? Being male is an exquisite experience and the entirety of the space program is a profound example of this undeniable truth. Clearly designed by and for men of the male gender, NASA may be our greatest achievement to date.
You see, we long ago discovered that spending large sums of money on scintillating electronics in the name of entertainment hindered our personal relationships with women, which we held in the highest regard because our dirty clothes were beginning to pile up. And so, faced with the harsh reality that, on an individual level, men could not achieve their dream of blowing up expensive stuff, and furthermore that they would likely be unable to coerce a rational human being into willingly financing this operation, they sought help from the federal government which has not rejected a fiscally irresponsible idea since the Madison administration. Much to their great joy and surprise, men found the government to be largely composed also of other men who, recognizing the utter brilliance of this foolproof endeavor, and whose dirty clothes also were beginning to accumulate, jumped at the idea of seizing their constituents’ assets in order to fund the frequent blowing up of stuff.
Which brings us to today. And only now, after fully understanding its history, can we truly begin to appreciate the distance we have come in so short a time. NASA currently has an annual budget of $1,000,000,000–an amount so large that hundreds of pyromaniacal men had to be hastily employed at the last minute simply to spend it in time.
The true beauty of our modern day space program, however, lies not in its job employment record or even in its fund raising efforts. NASA’s core brilliance is that it allows men to spend both time and money flying ships and building highly combustible machines, all without ever having to deliver a meaningful result.
Think about it–you probably have no idea what NASA’s mission statement is. Well, neither does NASA. That is because the entire organization’s existence is predicated upon the widely held belief that we will one day find something, and it will be important. But honestly, that really isn’t the point. The space program has been given a blank check to someday produce a highly ambiguous result, and until that time (3042) the government will continue to fund its every whim.
So (call it job security) while the public awaits a result, NASA continues to and will always continue to receive funding because it is inherently non-results-oriented. While merely promising to someday do something, NASA receives exorbitant federal subsidies to engage in activities that invariably result in a massive fire. “So this is the real purpose?” you ask. “Fire?” In short, yes. Allow me to elaborate…
For NASA, it is not the destination but the journey from which true satisfaction is garnered. I cite, for example, the Hubble Space Telescope which I cannot believe ever evaded public scrutiny. Think about it–why do we have telescopes in the first place? To look at space. So why would we build a telescope and actually send it into space? I mean, by that point you don’t need it to look at space–you’re already there.
I would submit that the Hubble Space Telescope was built because men love launching things into the air; especially when fire is involved. Also, during the summer, they probably point it toward earth and focus in on the beaches, but this is pure speculation.
As further evidence that results are irrelevant (and unlikely), I submit to you the lunar landings. We must ask ourselves, why did we go to the moon in the first place? Was it to drop off an American flag? Certianly not, inasmuch as the Democrats would have raised an enormous fuss over the alleged attempt to impose our capitalist ways on the sovereign people of the moon.
Was it perhaps then for the purpose of taking a voluminous number of photographs primarily featuring rocks and dust? Did we really spend all that time and money for the sole purpose of acting like Japanese tourists in low gravity?
No. No, it was because of maleness that we went. It was because there was a very loud noise and billowing clouds of fire during takeoff. There was more fire when the booster rockets ignited, and even more fire each time we breached the atmosphere. That is why we went into space and that is why we still go there today.
It is because, for us, a shuttle liftoff means the kind of chest-rattling boom currently available only on very high-end subwoofers; and it is because, as we gaze upward at that colossal man-made structure composed of metal and electronics and rocket fuel, it is as if we as men are collectively giving a 36,302 ft. middle finger to Feminists everywhere.
With its future solidly intact and more males being born on a daily basis, NASA is sure to bring many new highly-explosive creations to us annually. Though our budget is large and demand is great, we did not anticipate this greatest boon of acquiring another manly U.S. President so quickly after Ronald Reagan. Now, through our shared vision and combined efforts, it is our sincerest hope that we will soon be able to construct a shuttle large enough to transport the world’s entire supply of Feminists into the farthest corner of the universe because in space no one can hear you whine.