Oh Yeahhh - -
Saw it at the Lab, amidst cohorts; serendipitously, one knew what that Redmond-grade Error # (thrown by the landing computer) signified:
Glenn landed that sucker by VFR (Pilot-speak: Visual Flight Rules) -- with seconds of fuel remaining, because of that {literal!} lateral arabesque, to avoid some boulders. (And when you consider his spatial location / viewing port orientation -- it was a Heifetz-grade masterpiece of kinetic grokking to Fullness.
(Control could have.. almost Did: commanded an immediate firing of the return rocket, about the time of that computer BSOD; probably took lots of guts to just.. Leave Them Alone. Too.)
Talk aboutcher Whew!!
Fascinating, eerie -- and with the requisite close-escape -- High Drama.
Pity they blew the video conversion, but inconsequential compared with the 111,000 things they didn't screw up, even a little. Today, Muricans could not 'do' such a concept --> full and perfect execution of a similarly challenging project: two+ generations of the innumerate plus the overlay of creeping-dumbth. Blame it on the steady junk-food salt-fat-sugar diet? EZ cop-out. But maybe right, too (?)
40! fucking. years. later -- and we're still mired in superstitions; tribes of losers are worried about the gummint Takin Their Gunz Away..
and millions bought a potboiler series of novellas ['Left Behind'] on Rupturing Out. er BODILY == like from airplanes and stuff.
From this horde 'we' are gonna Save the Planet from homo-sap -??- yashure.
Mad Max meets Terminator on The PIcture Show at the End of the Universe.
On IMAX, natch.
