Apollo 11 Moon Landing , memories of...

Physics 101 – Astronomy

Summer 2007

raNae

3 July 2007

Assignment – Apollo 11 Moon Landing Interview with My Family

In 1969 we were then / now:

Ray, my Father, age 33 / 71

Reah, my Mother, age 32 / 70

Randy, my Brother, age 9 / 47

Russ, my Brother, age 8 / 46

And of course myself, age 7 / 44

NOTE:

I have taken very little artistic license on the information given here. With the exception of the “Popcorn”, which may or may not have happened, but most likely did, the details are accurate and true as my family remembers the Apollo 11 Moon Landing.

The “Summer of Love” is over and the “Space Age” has begun. Gone are the dinosaurs, race cars, and days of playing Cowboys and Indians. Now is the time of rocket ships and men in space…

I grew up in a small suburb just south of Salt Lake City, Utah. It’s the summer of 1969, July 20th to be exact. I just turned 7 years old eight day’s ago. I got a baton, a green purse and some other toys that were cool, but it’s nothing compared to this day and the events to follow…

My dad, my mom, and the boy’s have been reading, watching, and listening to news broadcast’s about man going to the moon and it seems that’s all people are talking about.

It’s Sunday, we’ve been to church and had our Sunday dinner. Mom has made sure we’ve had our baths and that we were ready for bed when the time comes.  But, whatever’s going on tonight is huge, because, we get to stay up past our bedtime. Randy doesn’t even have to get special permission or beg to do so, like he’s had to do for the last week. Something to do with the rocket that was launched a couple of day’s ago. We all got to see a REAL rocket going into outer space, not just a toy like the ones my brothers shoot off in are front yard. 

The living room is dark and quiet except for the glow of the T.V. and the stifled sound of men talking in the background. The front door is open along with the screen. Russ is on the front porch, watching T.V. and eating ice, because it’s hot, Utah Desert Hot. Mom and I are in the kitchen popping popcorn on the stove. Dad and Randy are repositioning the television, much to Russ’s dismay, so we can all see it.

My parents gather us around a small, fairly new Black and White portable that is now sitting in the middle of the living room floor. A big brown paper bag of popcorn is sitting in front of us and we happily munch away as the Apollo 11 disappears to the dark side of the moon and contact is lost.  My father holds his breath as the men in the control room ham it up for the cameras and wait for radio transmission to be made again with the astronauts. As the craft rounds the top of the moon my father finally breaths when we hear “Huston?”  “Good to hear from you again…” crackle’s over the small speaker.

The strange looking Lunar Module slowly un-docks and twists away from the Apollo. Gradually it makes its descent to the moons surface, it seemed to take forever… the men are talking about positions and coordinates. Our eyes are fixed and we hang on every word. The spaceship lands and we all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

We watch… We wait… “Huston, the eagle has landed…” My Mom is crying.

The hour grows late, we grow tired, but still we wait. Then Neil Armstrong steps onto the surface of the Moon… My mom continues to cry, my father looks as proud as if it were he who just stepped foot on the moon, and my brothers cheer. Man has just taken his first steps on unfamiliar, yet incredibly familiar ground, and nothing will ever be the same…

There has always been an intense involvement for my family in the NASA Space program. We lived, ate, and breathed Space, we couldn’t get enough. Alan Shepherd was a familiar name around our kitchen table as we would discuss the events that led us to the moon and beyond, and it’s still the first name to come out of my father’s mouth today when talking about the space program.  Re-broadcasts of the launch, the moon walk, and the amazing re-dock of the Lunar Lander with Apollo 11, and the splash down played on the news and we watched it every time it came on. Neil Armstrong’s words would echo in our ears for many years to come.

In 1970 my parents took us to the State Capital to see the exhibit that was on display of the Apollo 11 Moon Mission (see attached pictures). On display was the Apollo 11 Module, moon rocks, space suits and everything else space related. Every kid in the greater Salt Lake City area made at least one visit to the exhibit, happily.

This was not just a one night event for us but an ongoing fascination for all of us. The impact of this single moment in time forever changed who we were as a small family and that of a greater community.

Many years later my father took my two younger brothers to Huston and toured NASA’s Mission Control Center. My mother has toured the facilities as well.

Randy is an Electrical Engineer. He worked for years at Intel® creating mobile technology that gets us out of the house and man into outer space.

Russ’s fascination with space and flight still continues. I think he’s secretly waiting for a flight simulator that will take him into outer space.

And me, well, I’m just happy looking up at La Luna, wishing on stars and teaching my daughter of all their wonders.

When I asked the question “If given the opportunity and everything that you know about the potential danger, would you go into space?” everyone, without hesitation or thought of risk, had an unequivocal YES!

I may have been too young to realize the significance of just how monumental those first steps were but the memory of the event is very clear in my mind and I realize just how huge an effect it has had on my own interests in space and the science thereof.

 “All of the Apollo missions were exciting and of course very sad at the loss of many talented and smart people.  The risks of being a pioneer…” Ray, 27 June 2007

“It was the single most fascinating event ever!” Russ, 29 June 2007

Side Note: My father worked for Kodak and was in charge of obtaining all of the elements for the re-working of Challengers Stage One Atlas Rockets black box.

(Web link to the report on the black box)

http://history.nasa.gov/rogersrep/v3appoa.htm#7

Constellation “Anna Rae -- The Star Dancer”

Long ago in a far away land lived a King, his Queen, and their young Princess Anna Rae. It was at her birth that the King gave to her, as a gift for 17th birthday, a place amongst the stars for all eternity. It was a show of power not love.
The King was a powerful man with loyal servants and subject that he ruled with an iron fist. That same iron fist ruled over his Queen and the Princess. It was because of his cruel nature and self serving way that the King made many enemies, which put the Queen and Princess at great risk. And although the King had promised a place in heavens for the Princess his malevolence would one day drive the Queen away and jeopardize her gift.
In order to protect her child from the King’s wrath and that of his enemies the Queen, late one night when the sky turned dark as soot, spirited the girl far away. She sought refuge in a far off land with a kind and gentle Gypsy woman. When the King realized that his Queen and Princess were missing he emidialtly sent word out that whoever found them would receive a genourse reward. Word quickly came back to the King that Queen had left of her own volition. An outraged King vowed vengeance upon his wife.
The King eventually found his Queen and in a murderous rage impelled her with his mighty sward. The Princess aghast at her fathers furry refused to go back to his kingdom, choosing instead to stay with the old woman. In his resentment he denounced his daughter and took away her place in the heavens.
The Gypsy educated the young Princess and loved her like her own. Never once did the girl complain or feel sorry for herself. At night the Gypsy couldn’t help but over hear the Princess’s wish to dance in the heavens. And because of the girls pure heart she went to see an old traveler, long over a young mans journey, who was wise in the ways of alchemy. He himself was very fond of the young child, and a tad smitten with the Gypsy woman and promised to help make the forlorn little Princess’s wish comes true. However, it would take some time.

As time went on the young princess grew into an intelligent and educated young woman who still had the dreams and desires of her childhood and longed to dance amongst the stars like her father had once promised. She new it would never happen but it didn’t stop her from wishing every night upon the brightest star she could see in the sky.
On the Princess’s 17th birthday the King threw a big celebration in honor of nothing just to spite his young offspring. However, what he did not know was that the celebration he witnessed in the night’s sky was of a Princess dancing amongst the stars. The alchemist made a potion that turned the girl’s flesh and blood into ash that the old woman scattered into the sky so the girl would have her wish and be able to dance in the heavens for all eternity.



Physics 101 – Astronomy
Summer 2007
Assignment – Personal Myth
by: raNae boNella aNderson

originally written: 12 June 2007

Humor, Entertainment, and Culture

     When I look at my daughter I see myself in so many ways, not just in her physical features and her expressions, but in her teasing and her sense of humor except she is funnier than I am with a huge imagination. When I laugh at her and her cute girly ways, in essence, I’m laughing at myself. At three years old most children’s humor is childish, but she has a rather, not surprisingly, sophisticated sense of comedy and it’s nice to see her connect with jokes greater than “Knock—Knock”. She definitely knows the difference between funny ha-ha and funny strange and will tell me when I fail to see which is which. Every time we laugh together, even when she is doing something unknowingly funny, she is learning to laugh at herself and is seeing the correlation that is made between herself and others. We are all born with the ability to laugh and understand humor, even if we don’t always get it, and it’s that finite piece of thread that gives us cohesion and unity. And isn’t that what most of us are trying to do with humor, make a connection?


     The most common bond, the one that we can all relate to is the “Lost it in plain sight” moment. I need more fingers and toes to count the amount of times I’ve frantically searched the house looking for the car keys until I realized they were right where I left them, in my hand! Or the times when I have lost my glasses on the top of my pointy little head. My daughter’s most memorable moment of “where the heck is it?” came at dinner time last December. We, with we being her Nana, myself, and my daughter, were sitting at the table eating Chinese food having normal dinner time conversations about what we had done during the day and so on. My daughter was happily slurping up her second helping of noodles when she stopped and looked around with a curious expression. She looked all around her on the floor, under the table, and on top of the table and then intoned “Hey, where did my fork go?” My mother and I, with stifled laughter, just gave each other a look. “You mean the one in your hand?” I replied. Sure enough there in her left hand was her, hard to be missed, bright green frog fork! Slapping her forehead she replied with “Oh, how silly of me”. She then went back to happily eating her noodles, this time with her fork. Nana and I just smiled knowingly and chuckled to ourselves.

     It was an innocent enough remake, albeit a true one, that connected my daughter to the masses. My daughter unwittingly zinged a stranger in public. It was on the 4th of July in Rupert Square, we were there to see the fireworks with some family from out of town. It wasn’t quite dark enough for the fireworks show to begin so we killed time chatting about this, that, and other things. My cousin inquired as to how my Astronomy class was going and I proceeded to tell her about the interesting stuff I was learning about the planets, stars, and space. Venus was low in the western sky and very bright so I pointed it out along with Jupiter to the South when an anonymous voice from out of the crowd hollered out “How do you know their planets and not stars?” My daughter, without missing a beat, hands on hips, and a look of sheer annoyance on her face, sardonically countered with “Stars twinkle, planets don’t.” People around us laughed, which made her smile and giggle knowing she was the cause of their laughter. And we didn’t hear from the voice in the crowd again.

     The times my daughter and I connect the most is when she plays mommy and I’m the daughter that’s when I get to see how much my humor has impacted her world. Especially when she regurgitates me back to me. Whenever possible I read a story to my daughter at bedtime. Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax is her favorite, for now. We have read it so many times that she has about half of it memorized and we go through the same routine every time we read it. When we get to page three the dialog between us is always the same. I read, “What was the Lorax? And why was it there? And why was it lifted and taken somewhere…” to which my daughter replies, “He lifted himself” then I say, “We know.” Then I start over from the top of the page “What was the Lorax? And why was it there? And why was it lifted and taken somewhere…” again she replies, very dryly, “He lifted himself” to which I once again reply, exasperated “We know!” This can go on for quite some time, depending upon our mood and the lateness of the hour.

     Just recently, however my daughter wanted to play mommy and read me a bedtime story, she of course chose The Lorax. She stumbled over a few words and left out a couple of sentences hear and there but over all was doing a great job reciting, almost verbatim. Then we got to the page that asks ‘…why was he lifted and taken somewhere?” She paused, nudged me, and out of the side of her mouth said “Mommy, you’re supposed to say he lifted himself.” I obliged her request and sure enough in her best exasperated mommy voice said “We know.” I got such a bad case of the giggles that I laughed for about 5 minutes prompting Nana to come see what all the commotion was about. I laughed so hard I cried and my daughter fell asleep knowing that she possessed the ability to do so.

     Every parent eagerly awaits the first laugh or giggle from their new born child, even if it is just gas, we mark the day down in their baby journals and make a huge fuss about it to anyone who will listen. We have our video cameras at the ready to capture every funny moment of their little lives. I have a video of my daughter’s first real laugh and squeal of delight. She’s drenched in shadow, bad lighting and all, but I can sure hear her, loud and clear, that’s why I keep it. As humans most of us prefer to remember the good times over the bad, maybe that’s why when Junior first laughs it’s so amazing to us. And it just keeps on getting better as she gets older. It’s incredible to watch my daughter process and learn the subtleties of what it takes to make someone laugh and she is honing her teasing ability rather nicely. Besides being a pre-school drama queen she’s becoming my little comedian. She’s been working very hard on her funny ha-ha skills and I can’t wait for the day when she is old enough for me to bestow upon her my beloved book of 101 Elephant Jokes. But until then, be it a case of the missing whatever, the zing in a public places, or just getting mommy to laugh so hard she cries I know my daughter is connecting to me and others with the fine art of humor.

by:
RaNae Bonella-Anderson
English 101 / M04 : R. Mayer
Wednesday 7 – 10 pm / Fall 2007
Assignment No. 2: Final

A Rhetorical Study of “Letter from Birmingham Jail”

RaNae Bonella-Anderson
English 102 : R. Mayer
Tuesday / Thursday 5.30 – 8.20 pm / Summer 2008
Assignment No. 02: Final

     In April of 1963 Martin Luther King Jr. wrote the “Letter from Birmingham Jail” in response to an article that appeared in a local newspaper. In a commentary titled "A Call for Unity" eight white clergymen asked for an end to the Negro demonstrations that had been taking place. Alleging that they were “directed and led, in part, by outsiders and claimed that their actions were causing racial friction and unrest” (Call). The clergymen also felt that if any civil rights were been denied it was a matter for the courts and should not be carried out in the streets. King’s letter was in response to the statements made and to explain why his actions were necessary and why he was frustrated with being told to “wait, which he equates to meaning never” (741). King, keenly aware of the deteriorating social climate in Birmingham couldn’t, with a clear conscience, “sit idly by” (739). When an opportunity arose for King and his staff to go to Birmingham he readily accepted. King simply told his critics that, “I am here because I was invited here. I am in Birmingham because injustice is here” (739). His actions landed him in jail, for eleven day’s, which gave him time to pause and reflect on the comments of his detractors. King’s letter is filled with wide range of successful devices that draws the reader in. The most prominent and dramatic uses are his ability to establish a genuine rapport with his audience, his skill at asking the most poignant of questions, a compelling handling of emotional words, and his powerful handling of analogy’s.


     King, a fourth generation preacher draws upon this fact to establish a genuine rapport. An artful kinship is made and allows the reader to feel the sincerity of his words. King offers friendly expressions such as “my fellow clergymen” (738), in the opening of his letter and then later refers to them as “my Christian and Jewish brothers” (744). King establishes a common ground directed by faith. Moreover, by explaining that “Seldom do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas” (738) King is telling his readers that they are important enough for him to take the time to reflect upon what has been presented to him. By being respectful of their time, understanding of their titles, (Bishops et al), and reverent of their faith, King’s tactic tells the clergymen that they are as significant as the words he is writing. By using this type of relationship King maintains an air of humility, speaking to them not as a superior or a subordinate, but as an equal. Kings also allows some time for self reflection when he states that, “what else can one do when one is alone in a narrow jail cell, other than write long letters, think long thoughts and pray long prayers?” (752). By the end of his letter King has made a sincere link with his audience.

     Along with genuine rapport King also has the ability to ask the most poignant of questions. By asking questions, of his own making, King is allowed the opportunity to answerer and gives relevant information. He also sets up a mode in which to answer those questions of his addressees. The clergy refer to the breaking of laws and of their concern of how King can justify his actions. In order for King to properly address these concerns he must first distinguish the difference between the two which he accomplishes by the use of questioning such as, ‘One may well ask: “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust’ (742). King was not advocating the breaking of the law but rather, as he quotes St. Augustine, "an unjust law is no law at all" (743) he is questioning their validity. This type of inquiring will inevitably lead the reader to Kings intended purpose of asking, “Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust?” (743), to which he will be able to explain his view’s on the laws that segregate white and black as “Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. Any law that uplifts human personality is just.” (743). Leading the reader to realize that segregation is morally wrong and oppressing a race of people due to syntax is morally reprehensible. The Supreme Court ruled in favor of mixed public schools, so why not in all areas of the public?

     Even with the most poignant of questions King’s a compelling treatment of emotional words further helps the reader understand his position and frustration. These emotional words provide a powerful and visceral effect throughout the text. King’s raw emotion is evident in phrases like “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” (739). He is masterful at using these ideas of intolerances, injustices and freedoms to paint a picture that if it can happen to one it can happen to all. The utilization of redundancy helps King paint that picture with phrases like, "justice too long delayed is justice denied.” (742). Also, by using commanding words more than once in the same sentence he makes his message that much more poignant. King also brings into play his own feelings in such personal statements as, “In spite of my shattered dreams of the past and in deep disappointment I have wept…” (749). Allowing the reader to be moved by his plight and the plight of his brothers. King masterfully uses of such brutal phrases as,” We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed” (741). The handling of moving terms such as denied, disappointment, and demanded help sways the reader to the writer’s point of view by the sheer power of their meaning and the skill of repetition makes his message quite clear.

     Emotional words are the touchstone of King’s authoritative handling of analogies. The comparison of biblical and historical moments to present day creates a believable relationship between the two and touches upon moments in history that the clergymen can relate to. King refers to “the prophets of the eighth century B.C. and to the Apostle Paul when they left their villages to carry the gospel beyond their own hometowns” (739). As did King when he left the comfort of his home in Atlanta to help in a place where he was most certainly not welcome. Not even welcome by his fellow brethren of the cloth. King, skillfully moves on to equate his “illegal” actions to the time of Hitler’s rule over Germany stating that, “We can never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was “legal” as apposed to the “illegal” activities of the Hungarian freedom fighters” (744) an extreme analogy during a time of extreme need. King also refers to being called an extremist, in “A Call for Unity” to which he reply’s with, “Was not Jesus an extremist for love? Was not Amos an extremist for justice? Was not Paul an extremist? Abraham Lincoln and Thomas Jefferson? So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be” (747). King’s equating the current plight of Negroes to those of the Jews makes a clear and compelling comparison. King informs his audience that he to is no different and his cause just as worthy.

     Martin Luther King Jr. was as eloquent a writer as he was a successful orator and his message of racial equality is as clear as the masterful strategy’s he employed. At some point in life we have all felt the bitter sting of not being apart of something, some group, some moment in time, the feeling of being alone or not included, those key moments in life are the moments that King uses to make us feel the relevance of the world in which he speaks and writes about. His tactic are not unique or new but his ability to move people to action with his words made King the perfect leader for such an uphill battle that was the civil rights movement. No matter what rhetorical strategy King used it worked, people listened, and we are a better people, black and white, for having done so.





Work Cited

King, Martin Luther, Jr. “Letter from Birmingham Jail.” The Writer’s Presence. Ed. Donald

McQuade and Robert Atwan. 5th Edition.738-753. Boston: Bedford-St. Martin (2006).

Wikipedia. “A Call For Unity.” 23 May 2008. 23 June 2008. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A

_Call_For_Unity.

Identity Essay (writen in the fall of 2007)

With 50/50 foresight, would the decisions one makes in life change? Albert Einstein once questioned his role as a physicist with the release of atomic power stating “If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker.” Would you be a different person if you zigged instead of zagged? Would you do anything differently? Such as, what if I never moved to Los Angeles? What if I never met my husband and got married? And what if I had chosen not to become a parent? Identity is a tightly tangled web, gleaned from and forever tied to the choices we make.

Becoming a mother was an easy decision but one that would have far greater ramifications then I expected. I had waited a long time for this monumental moment to happen. Actually, I had given up hope that it ever would, due in part to life choices, karmic destiny, and age. So, at age 41, imagine my surprise to find out that I was six months pregnant! In my pre-mom persona my identity was an eclectic mix of “Art Dawg”, “Riot Girl”, and “Counter Culture Cool.” All were chosen for me by me and I worked hard at living up to the guises I had created. Choosing to become a parent took me from “Hollywood Hip” to an identity that wasn’t just foreign; it wasn’t even on my map. So, the seven years I spent working, in the movie industry, with 12 to 14 hour days, and a huge part of who I was, was now unimaginable.

Tha Alkaholiks’ “All Night” music video shoot was exactly that, all night. The location was two hours north of Los Angeles at the Playboy Ranch in the Ventura Mountains. It was the end of June and I for one was glad to be out of the L.A. heat and smog. The set was a 1940’s shimmy shack set deep in the woods near a lake. There was very little exterior prep work to be done with the exception of a boat with a dummy in it. We, the art department, all two of us, had been on location most of the afternoon along with some of the production team, well before call time for the rest. Principal photography was set to begin at 11 p.m. with the crews arriving at 8 p.m. The band arrived by 9 p.m. and everything was running smoothly until around 3 a.m. when catastrophe struck. The “Bug Wrangler” lost a couple dozen cockroaches as he was placing them on Ice-T’s jacket. Once more bugs were anaesthetized and in place the scene was set and the camera was ready to roll, again. By 4 a.m. the dancers were cut loose and by 6 a.m. we were wrapped. Teardown took about two hours; with the exception of the dummy which was now at the bottom of the lake. By 8 a.m. the UPM (Unit Production Manager) Bob and I were on our way back to Hollywood.

Some choices, even when made for all the right reasons can turn out wrong… When I married my, now estranged, husband we had not been in any formal relationship. We had known each other for over ten years and for the last two of them we were friends with benefits. I knew his family, I knew all his old girlfriends, and I knew his past and the demons he had dealt with and conquered. I thought I knew him well. We got along famously and were the best of friends but not being in a formal relationship left me unaware, unprepared, and blindsided by the changes that would quickly surface. We lived with all the trappings of a conventional, stable family environment; the house, the cars, the toys, and the proper Santa Monica address that commanded respect. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. My husband’s temperament took a shift for the worst with this perception “of having it all.” Independent thought flew out the window so; bad choices along with clouded judgment and his desire to please his “friends” left me and my daughter vulnerable.

The biggest parasite was Woody. He made the heroin addict and his pill popping girlfriend seem agreeable. He managed to weasel his way into my husband’s closest circle of friends and unbeknownst to me my husband allowed him and his young girlfriend to move into our guest bedroom. Once again I had another Venice Beach scum living under my roof. One morning I awoke at my usual 5 a.m. in order to be to work by 7 a.m. to find Woody and two unknown thugs in my living room. They were in the middle of hatching some big plan to take over the “operation” that was my house!?! Saying nothing I got ready for work and when I arrived back home I packed some belongings and took myself and my daughter to stay at a friends.

Two days went by and nothing happened. My husband swore that he would take care of everything and that Woody and company would be out of the house. The only thing he accomplished was staying out all night partying while my home remained open to anyone and everyone. Not willing to impose upon my friend any further and the lack of headway being made in absence, I went back home and cleaned house, literally. By this time everything had gone from bad to worse. My own ability to think clearly was being torn apart by the lies, deceit, and highly questionable activity. Plausible deniability was no longer plausible. It appeared that I had already lost my husband, so in order to cripple the impending assault and the overtaking of everything else I had worked so hard to build I purposely and knowingly force fed the downward spiral. By the end of summer 2006 the house, the cars, everything, myself and my daughter included, were all gone.
The only nagging question I have now is – How will my choices affect my daughter’s perception of herself as she grows up? My heart breaks when ever she climbs into my lap and tells me how much she misses her daddy. They had a short time together but it was long enough to make a strong bond. He took her every where. Their favorite place was Home Depot. They went there almost every night, even if it was to buy only one box of nails, which could have been purchased anywhere at any time. They would eat at the McDonalds located in the store and she would always come home with yet another “Happy Meal” toy. Every time he showed up their without her the sales staff would question her absence. And now he is the one who is absent and she is keenly aware of that absence. After all he was a playmate, her hero, her original prince charming, and her first heart break. All she knows right now is that he is still in Los Angeles working, but it doesn’t ease the pain she feels. Just recently we were giving thanks at dinner when she said “I’m thankful for mommy and dad…” she stopped herself, paused, and looked around, with tears wailing up in her eyes, she softly said “Oh ya, I’m thankful for mommy and nana…”

Choosing to leave a bad situation to take care of my daughter was the logical choice and being a Mother made the move back to Idaho a necessity and so overnight I once again changed my identity. Now I’m “Single Mom” with a daughter to rear and it’s the most important role of my life and an option, even with 50/50 hindsight, I would never change. Besides, I hate “What ifs” and I don’t believe in regrets, so every choice, ziggy or zaggy that I have made is key to who I am. And, after all, aren’t we glad Einstein didn’t become a watchmaker?

I lol @ U

is this real
can it be
that we are here at this moment in time
or is that this shit is just shit?