Down And Out On Moonbase Freedom

Date: June 1, 2019

To: President, United States, Earth

Fm: Governor Acting Governor Pro Tem, Lunar Colony, Moon

Subject:  Help us, you rat bastard! Status Report

 

Die Asshole Die!  Dear President Gingrich,

Sir, I’m writing in desperate hope that you’ll finally pull your fat head out of your ass hear our plea for assistance.  Unless we receive federal funding soon I fear this will be my last status report.

Please don’t get me wrong, we here on Luna do indeed appreciate all you have done for us so far.  We really enjoyed the inspirational movie you sent up on the last supply rocket.  Really, who doesn’t love Newt Gingrich Saves The World? Personally, Sir, it makes me want to vomit until my space boots come up I could watch it over and over. Brad Pitt’s depiction of you as a child genius who overcomes crippling morality just in time to save the world from Bill Clinton Satan brought tears to my eyes.  And I thought Orly Taitz just totally nailed the part of Monica (Honestly, I wouldn’t have guessed that she could, uh, act).  On a side note: I don’t want to complain, but it sure would have been nice if you’d thought to have NASA send up a couple of air bottles with the movie.  Ah well, I’m sure we can breath inspiration if we have to.

Despite our efforts to live up to your new American Motto, “Arbeit macht frei Annoy a liberal, work hard and be happy,” I’m sorry to report that colonization of the moon is not going well. Jesus Christ, get us the hell out of here! 

The problems are manifold and the men have taken to calling our little outpost “Beano Station” – because there be no water, there be no food, there be no fucking air! … well, you get the idea. Very soon, there will be no people – well, no Americans anyway because there’s no fucking air! The Chinese Base New Yuèliàng Province seems to be thriving and there’s been some talk about joining up with them since most of our moonbase parts and equipment come from China anyway. Now, I know what you’re thinking, Sir, but I can assure you that this kind of thinking is confined at present to only one person. I have to say though, socialism seems a bit trivial at this point.  That might sound like selling out, but some people really like breathing, plus the communists give you free pajamas when you sign up.  Also, we could use the medical coverage.

I know that you don’t believe in government subsidized assistance unless there’s oil involved, and believe me we’ve looked, but despite the expertise and assurances of Vice President Palin, there doesn’t seem to be any here on the moon. Perhaps you could send her up to show us what we’re doing wrong. I think she’d be right at home, it’s cold as hell and you can actually see Russia from here, terrestrial cloud cover permitting. 

Now, obviously, we were supposed to pay our own way, and, Sir, we tried.  We mined tons and tons of Helium-3. Unfortunately, as you may know, the market for He-3 is sort of stagnate at the moment, what with there being no actual  Ayn Rand perpetual motion fusion power plants having been invented and all. Now, I’m not saying that it’s because you had all the scientists put to death. I’m not criticizing, you idiot Sir, praise Jesus, you understand, it’s just that it sort put a damper on the whole “The Moon Will Be The New Saudi Arabia” thing when your administration fired all the teachers and shut down the public school system for indoctrinating the kids into science liberalism. Turns out colonization of the moon is rocket science after all.  Who knew?

Additionally, as you know, attempts to build an He-3 pipeline from the moon to the Lower 48 have repeatedly failed.  Personally, Sir, if we must blame somebody, I recommend we blame the homosexual environmentalist agenda for our failure to expand capitalism beyond the bulkheads of our little settlement. I suspect that despite your generous funding of the Bachmann Center for Faith Based Americanism, a few gay environmentalists remain unconverted and at large conducting subversive sabotage of our precious freedoms.  Homos hate capitalism, Sir, everybody knows that.

The good news is that with passage of the recent National Life Begins With The First Budweiser Personhood Act, individual spermatozoa are now considered people. Trust me, Mr. President, after eight years up here living in a tin can without getting any action, I’m pretty sure I can push us over the 13,000 person population threshold for statehood all by myself, especially if I can get five minutes of non-censored access to the internet. 

The bad news is that it turns out faith-based terraforming is somewhat less optimal than we first hoped.  We held a rally to ask God for atmosphere and stuff.  However, despite herculean efforts by our prayer engineers, when Colonial Governor Perry stepped into the airlock to go outside and sample our new Garden of Eden he unfortunately exploded.  We’re not sure why.  Everybody we sent in to scrape him off the walls also exploded.  We are now blaming Muslim terrorists.  Also, you’ll want to avoid Airlock 3, just saying.

I know you’re busy with preparations for your pending marriage (fifth time’s the charm!) and  the war in Iran, Praise Jesus, but I know that we will be ultimately victorious.  After eight years of invasion, you’d think they’d just give up, wouldn’t you? I must admit that we do enjoy watching the show through our telescope, I assume the bright blue flashes are the nuclear ones? 

Anyway, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d really appreciate it if you’d consider sending up some air and maybe a little something to eat. Also, if you’re looking to get rid of, say, a couple dozen morally questionable liberal types of the female persuasion, we wouldn’t mind. At all. Seriously.

 

Sincerely,

Acting Governor (Pro Tem) and sole remaining multi-cellular resident of Moonbase Reagan

 

P.S. I hear gasoline is now over a hundred dollars a gallon, are you sure I couldn’t interest the other Fifty States in some Helium-3?

P.P.S.  You ever read Heinlein’s The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress?  Remember the part about the linear accelerator? No? Pity.

P.P.P.S.  Hey, I can see your house from here! Why do I mention it. No reason.