Exploring a lunar concept
I’m still waiting …
It’s been more than a month since my proposal to move Logan to southern Utah next to La Verkin, but the city legislature has done nothing. And it’s still snowing!
You’d think that some people here actually like winter.
This past week was designated by the university as a “Spring Break.” Normally this coincides with spring: a season of warmer weather, increasing outdoor activity and a time when snow angels should be impossible to perform.
This year, since the break in Logan was a huge weather meatloaf of rain, snow and wind, I had to bring spring inside.
That’s right. I cranked up the heater, replaced all the light bulbs in the apartment with UV-rich plant lights, filled the bathroom with sand and purchased some aquatic life for the tub.
Now, just like all the rich students, I can parade around campus this week with my oddly reddish tan, hoping nobody sees me squirm because there’s still a little sand stuck in secret crevices.
I can also show off the cool scar I got when the bathtub jellyfish got a little out of hand.
Alas, no one will see my tan or scars because I will still be dressed like an Eskimo for another month.
Punxatawney Phil’s predictions are apparently only valid for the east coast. Six more weeks of winter in Pennsylvania equates to six years in Utah, after the conversion to Mountain Standard Time.
So I reiterate: it’s time to move Logan. Ideally, to a place that can be climate controlled and where no known snakes exist.
Coincidentally, there is a large surplus of land on the moon for sale, and I’m pretty sure no there aren’t any snakes.
In 1980, Dennis Hope found a loophole in the 1967 U.N. Outer Space Treaty, which allowed him, as an individual, to claim ownership to the moon and all the planets in our solar system.
He submitted a formal declaration of ownership to the U.S. and Russian governments as well as the United Nation, and on Oct. 22, 1980, celebrated “The Lunar Day of Independence.”
Hope’s declaration begins in a very interesting manner, and I’m not making this up:
“This is to inform the sovereign planet of, Earth, that, Dennis M. Hope, is now and shall ever be known as, ‘THE OMNIPOTENT RULER OF THE LIGHTED LUNAR SURFACE.’ Mr. Hope will here-in-after, also have the exalted title of, ‘THE HEAD CHEESE.’ Any and all further transactions in regard to, real estate planning, development, and further exploration of the lighted lunar surface will be done at the advice and consent of, ‘THE HEAD CHEESE.'”
Since 1996, the Head Cheese has been selling plots of land to anyone who wants to stake a claim to a small part of the moon. For a mere $20, you can buy an acre of moon land, but the Lunar Embassy, Dennis Hope’s company, gives so much more.
Along with a deed, you get sent a copy of the Lunar Constitution with accompanying Bill of Rights, a lunar map to figure out where your land is located, a copy of the official Declaration of Ownership, and it all comes in attractive silver packaging.
The silver packaging alone is enough to whet my astronomical appetite, but I still feel uneasy purchasing land on the moon.
Many questions in my head have been left unanswered like,
“Can I still build a bass pond?” or
“Does it cost extra for high-speed Internet?”
Most people probably just question the availability of travel to the moon, but I have faith that one day the space between the Earth and our lunar companion will be littered with numerous galactic yellow cabs, driven by dudes name Amir.
Even with a few holes in the plan, I propose we begin the mass migration to a new land of opportunity, to bold new Logan of space, or simply, Lunar Logan.
In its enormous climate-controlled bubble, Lunar Logan will be an idyllic sanctuary from cold weather.
Having to experience spring break in a far away city will become extinct. Even if residents collectively propose to have a winter season, just like magic, the climate will change so the wild, drunken parties can be more local.
It’ll be happily warm in Lunar Logan all right, and to just to be sure, all potentially dangerous groundhogs will be shot.
Garrett Wheeler is a second bachelor’s student in technical theatre design. Send any comments or column ideas to wheel@cc.usu.edu.