Scrolling past the gigantic blue headline announcing that Texas Governor Perry is no longer the promising twinkle in the GOP's eye, the news that the Satellite that fell to earth on Friday has not been located brought an arched brow to mine face. How strange, I am thinking, that we can send missiles, space crafts and other solid items into the atmosphere with perfect precision, but cannot find (or track) a bus-sized object when it returns to earth. What's up with that?
Or is NASA being deliberately coy? Maybe they don't want plebes to dash to the crash/landing site and have their way with what remains of the equipment? Who knows what classified info and secrets exist within?
If the old, worn-out, done-its-duty piece of shining aluminum was known to be on its way into a Kamikaze-like demise, wouldn't another shiny piece of aluminum firmly entrenched in its own orbit be able to track the other one as it sizzled into a free fall? Why do we have to guess the final destination in this "day and age"? Don't you love it when these things happen and the answer to "Where will it land?" is "We think somewhere over North America."
Wow. That's a wide space, isn't it? Could mean that it could crash in your back yard or in the deep blue sea. (See We Don't Know for more info.)
For all the modernity of what mankind sends into space and for what purpose, it seems sloppy and not very civilized to just let these items drop out of the sky to land who-knows-where, or remain in space on a tired orbital loop to clutter the one last bastion of clean space left that is associated with humans. Tsk. What little messes we are!
Now, where was I? What's my point? The wrap-up to the post? Honestly, I no longer know.
Must be all that WUI-ing.
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