I fell and scraped my back today, so that's probably affecting my mood along with everything else. Additionally, telephones are the least efficient means of communication in mass use and it horrifies me that they're still considered the default.
So immediately after my fall, we piled (painfully) into the family car and drove to a different outlet of the same protestantoid church that my parents belong to for a hilariously small Solstice congregation. The service was predictably uninspired, just your usual trust-in-God stuff which I'd forgotten within five minutes of leaving because SpaceX was literally landing a rocket on its tail at that very moment.
Then we ate dinner and went home to finish watching the Childhood's End miniseries. And without giving anything away, I finished feeling an overwhelming sense of nihilism, that all of man's joy and suffering, all our trial and triumph, are so easily forgotten, so fleeting, so quick to pass into the infinite vacuum. That our existence is entirely temporary and, for centuries to come, we'll continue at the whim of probability.
A few of us are working on it. Tonight's launch and landing was a tremendous feat in our conquest of the solar system. And that accomplishment is entirely our own.
