My Scrolls

Landing on A Comet (20.6.15)

“Landing on a comet is a waste of time and space,

                                   is a wastage of resources better spent elsewhere,

                                   speaks of an absence of the intellect in the process of selection,

                                   speaks of a scarcity of intellect in the process of approval.

Landing on a comet is as a smash and grab upon the earth,

                                 is chasing the detritus made available by God,

                                 is chasing that which has been smashed and should no longer be of interest,

                                 is chasing so to grab and to unbalance on an orbit with a change of destination –

                                                                                          which exposes ignorance with a lack of responsibility for the cycling.

Landing on a comet disturbs the ‘status quo’,

                                 disturbs the sensitivity of the mass to change,

                                 disturbs the momentum as built into a journey,

                                 disturbs the credibility of those who caused the intercept,

                                 disturbs the objective-setting process for the future when held within the reins of man.

Landing on a comet lands on the unnecessary and the discarded,

                                 lands on the fractured and the flotsam,

                                 lands on the unbalanced and the improbable.

Landing on a comet does not deserve a round of applause,

                                 is not a feather in a cap,

                                 is not a celebration of success.

Landing on a comet is a duplication of what has already been achieved,

                                 adds little new information to the pot,

                                 is more concerned with the cranking of reputations rather than the knowledge base of man.

Landing on a comet is a sideshow a long time in the opening,

                                     a short time in the closing,
                                     an operation with little impact on the memory except for those found jumping up and down in the claiming

                                                                                                                                                                                               of success.

Landing on a comet is not a mark of history,

                                 is not a signpost to the stars,

                                 is a stain upon the planning of what could have been but wasn’t,

                                                                              of what might have been but met refusal,

                                                                              of what should have been yet failed the jaundiced testing of significance.

Landing on a comet infiltrates and argues,

                                 matches and surpasses,

                                 quibbles and deletes.

Landing on a comet meets with comments of the preposterous,

                                 justifies the ridiculous,

                                 shouts of the improbable as if a fact of life,

                                 hones in on science fiction in treating such as fact,

                                 farewells the bulwarks of commonsense in a cloud of ‘happy times’ –

                                                                                                       as funding hits the heyday of its time within the sun.

Landing on a comet is a drawing on a pinhead with tools long since obsolescent.

Landing on a comet is a drawing in the tonal values of high contrast.

Landing on a comet is a drawing of non-achievement on a space rock with ‘existence’ –

                                                            its sole claim to fame on which a fortune has been expended to be but blown away.

Landing on a comet is an act in a fantasy,

                                 is dreamt up by the actors in a fantasy,

                                 is for the sizzle and the fizzle in a fantasy –

                                                                             all built around the interim stupidity of envisaging the hosting of a rock.”


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