There isn't a nicer spot around for untold light years.
Earth is a beautiful utopia, without measure or equal. Shatner saw that clearly, on his trip off planet.
> ... when I looked in the opposite direction, into space, there was no mystery, no majestic awe to behold . . . all I saw was death.
> I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing. I turned back toward the light of home. I could see the curvature of Earth, the beige of the desert, the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky. It was life. Nurturing, sustaining, life. Mother Earth. Gaia. And I was leaving her.
> Everything I had thought was wrong. Everything I had expected to see was wrong.
> I had thought that going into space would be the ultimate catharsis of that connection I had been looking for between all living things—that being up there would be the next beautiful step to understanding the harmony of the universe. In the film “Contact,” when Jodie Foster’s character goes to space and looks out into the heavens, she lets out an astonished whisper, “They should’ve sent a poet.” I had a different experience, because I discovered that the beauty isn’t out there, it’s down here, with all of us. Leaving that behind made my connection to our tiny planet even more profound.
We're the worst thing to happen to this planet in 65 million years. On that list of extinctions you posted, the only one caused by an 'intelligent' agent is the one we're in now; the one caused by us. And we're still doing it.
If ever a Noah's ark is sent into space, it's vastly more likely to be because we fucked up the planet somehow.
There isn't a nicer spot around for untold light years.
Earth is a beautiful utopia, without measure or equal. Shatner saw that clearly, on his trip off planet.
> ... when I looked in the opposite direction, into space, there was no mystery, no majestic awe to behold . . . all I saw was death.
> I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing. I turned back toward the light of home. I could see the curvature of Earth, the beige of the desert, the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky. It was life. Nurturing, sustaining, life. Mother Earth. Gaia. And I was leaving her.
> Everything I had thought was wrong. Everything I had expected to see was wrong.
> I had thought that going into space would be the ultimate catharsis of that connection I had been looking for between all living things—that being up there would be the next beautiful step to understanding the harmony of the universe. In the film “Contact,” when Jodie Foster’s character goes to space and looks out into the heavens, she lets out an astonished whisper, “They should’ve sent a poet.” I had a different experience, because I discovered that the beauty isn’t out there, it’s down here, with all of us. Leaving that behind made my connection to our tiny planet even more profound.
- https://variety.com/2022/tv/news/william-shatner-space-boldl...
We're the worst thing to happen to this planet in 65 million years. On that list of extinctions you posted, the only one caused by an 'intelligent' agent is the one we're in now; the one caused by us. And we're still doing it.
If ever a Noah's ark is sent into space, it's vastly more likely to be because we fucked up the planet somehow.