Although I don’t do it on a piece of paper as the “experts” (whoever they are) tell you that you should, that is dividing a sheet into two columns with the headings “PRO” and “CON”, a method used by many for considering their decisions yea or nay on some subject or another, I do it in my head typically when I’m trying to decide something, like whether or not I should invest in a new, larger flat screen TV (the one I have now is 32”, which is miniscule by today’s “home theatre” standards) or if I should get my left nipple pierced. It really does help to examine both sides of the coin, even if you’re pretty sure which direction you’re already leaning. (Nay on the bigger screen television…I watch TV about as often as Donald Trump tells the truth, which as we all know is infrequently, so I don’t see the point in spending the money. Piercing my left nipple…the jury is still out on that one. I know a woman who has both of her nipples pierced, and she’s a total asshole, and I’m afraid there might be a connection there. Hi, Candace.)

So when I saw the headline about NASA’s recent call for “companies from around the world that can grab lunar rocks and dirt” as part of their Artemis Project, i.e., for moon miners, I was intrigued. (FYI, being “intrigued” is a generally painless state, akin to being “curious”, but haughtier, more snooty somehow.) It got me to thinking about the Apollo 11 mission 51 years ago and what the “pros/cons” were of what we derived from man’s first venture to the Moon. No decision-making process, just idle curiosity.

On the plus side of the ledger, here are some of the things that came out of our first lunar landing:

*Improved pacemaker technology-

                No, I have no idea how landing men on the moon led us to being able to improve regulating people’s heartbeats; I assume it had something to do with the lunar pull on the tides and the rumor that the moon is a hollow spacecraft, piloted by aliens from the planet Zatox.

*Cordless power tools-

               The Black & Decker people developed a group of “cordless, lightweight, battery-powered precision power tools” for the Apollo 11 astronauts, including a drill, a screwdriver, a miniature Roto-rooter and one or two devices of a personal nature that NASA declined to identify.

*Improved heart monitors-

                Along with the enhanced pacemaker technology, improved heart monitors were developed as well, these being among a number of “biotelemetry monitoring” instruments that the Apollo 11 guys had to wear continuously so doctors on the ground at Mission Control could keep track of such physiological factors like heart rate, oxygen consumption, flatulence and respiratory patterns. And believe me, beans, burritos and broccoli were NOT part of the astronaut’s basic meals. For obvious reasons. (Hey, would you want to be cooped up in a small space capsule with a guy who just ate a giant beef and cheese burrito, a side of frijoles and a large Diet Coke? Well I should say. And by the way, frijoles is Burmese for “the dog did it”.)

*Solar panels-

                Since the Apollo 11 guys were denied using gas-driven energy, an alternate power source had to be developed to provide electricity for the various systems on both the Command Module and Lunar Lander…thus, solar panels, which have since been adapted to Earth-bound usage to generate power to virtually all types of residential and commercial buildings, other than the White House, which is still gas-powered (see above).


                No shit, I’m not making this up. Black & Decker, once again, was commissioned by NASA to create a device that would allow astronauts Armstrong and Aldrin, the two original “Moon Men”, to extract rock and dirt samples from as much as 10 feet below the Moon’s surface, which B & D was able to do. The “Dustbuster” was an outgrowth of that technology. Armstrong was said to have been greatly confused when he was first handed the extraction device, being told that “it sucks”, until it was more thoroughly explained.

_________________________FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!________________________

We interrupt this column to bring you a Breaking! News! Story! From the RUKME News Desk…

-Dateline Washington D.C.

*President Trump Announces Lunar Mission To Greatly Aid Dairy Industry*

In a surprise election-year move, President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump today announced that he has directed the National Aeronautics and Space Administration agency to team up with scientists from the National Dairy Council in an effort to extract what is expected to be “millions of tons” of green cheese from the interior of the Moon, giving the domestic dairy industry a much-needed economic shot in the arm. When asked about the unusual announcement by RUKME Senior White House Correspondent Thor Loser, the President was quoted as saying, “The NASA guys haven’t even been able to accurately predict how many tons of cheese there are on the Moon…it may be bajillions, and it all belongs to the tremendous, great people of America. I mean, we did get there first, back in 1927, right before World War Two ended, and we know that the Nazis had a secret base on the Moon, and that Hitler didn’t actually commit suicide but fled there in a spaceship in 1960. The Moon was previously inhabited by aliens from an alien planet, and they were great, great cheese makers and left gazillions of tons of cheese that could feed many, many of the citizens of our wonderful, beautiful country.” The President wouldn’t say when the mission to the Moon would take place, but added that, “Sleepy Joe Biden has tried to stop this mission by our great, great NASA people, and the BLM people didn’t respond to, well, the trees could easily just go ‘boom’, that is, and you know, the protesters were somewhere they shouldn’t be…” When reached for comment on this momentous news, NASA Director Jim Bridenstine had “no comment”, but sources within the agency, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, said that “the idea was the most stupid thing they had ever heard”.

More on this breaking story as it becomes available…

We now return you to our regularly scheduled blog post…

On the minus side of the “moon pro/con ledger”, it took almost FOUR HOURS to get a pizza delivered to my sister’s apartment in the late afternoon of Sunday, July 20th, 1969, due to the gazillions of people who, like my sister, myself and several of our friends, were glued to their TVs watching the lunar landing and didn’t want to stop to make dinner. (We ordered pepperoni, sausage and mushrooms with extra cheese. Just not green.)

Speaking of headlines, I’ve been getting some very interesting emails recently from various sources, and thought that I would share some of them with you…

“Clogged Metabolism? Melt Arm and Belly Fat Fast

                If you suffer from unsightly arm and belly fat, making you look like a human caricature of the Michelin Man, you need MetaBlast®, the metabolism booster that melts away fat from your arms, belly, legs, head (if you’re a Trump supporter) and even from your uvula, by increasing your metabolic rate three-fold. MetaBlast® is fast-acting, totally safe and is pending approval by the USDA. Don’t wait, log onto the MetaBlast® website at www.nomoremichelin.com and start watching that blubber melt away. And if you order in the next 25 nanoseconds, you’ll receive your first 30 day supply FREE. MetaBlast®, your key to a spare-tire free life.”

From Mr. Nagutrjus Huryfgrwws, President of the Third Nigerian Bank and Mini-Mart:

                “I am writing you this day tomorrow to tell you of a sad dying of Mrs. Styrpdf Dghbarmj, just of lately, who left in her account pigeons the sum of $5,000,000,000,000 USD, and not claimed by hairs or relations tenants and so to be distributed to those worthy doughnuts as by decree to from Mrs. Dghbarmj, should the money not be claimed by vandals or surfers. Your name has come to attention of my orifice, as being on the list of rhinos not currently displaced, and I need information from your person as to where to send any portion yours of the $5,000,000,000,000 USD soon yesterday. Please give your name, address, cellphone number, hat size, bank account number, password, Social Security number, name of first-born children mantis, suit size and favorite flavor of ice cream dispersely and I will forward your part of the $5,000,000,000,000 USD soon last week tonight. And do not be taken in congeal by others on Internet with offers to yes money as they are lying, cheating llama defilers and only want to blowtorch your goodwill roughly.

                Sincerely, Mr. Nagutrjus Huryfgrwws”

“Are You Getting Forgetful? Can’t Remember Things? Lost In Space Sometimes?

                It’s a well-known medical fact that, as we get older, our memory lessens, a sad result of the aging process. Many times, this horrible loss of memory robs people of their ability to function in their daily lives, leading to such things as depression and unfortunate incidents like losing a hearing aid and finding a suppository in your ear, thus leading you to remember, too late, where you misplaced your hearing device. But memory loss is now a thing of the past, with a NEW scientific breakthrough resulting in a revolutionary product…MemoBlast®. If you’re tired of forgetting why you walked into a room, where you left your keys, what day it is or what planet you live on, MemoBlast® is for you! From the makers of the amazing fat-melting compound, MetaBlast®, MemoBlast® is the answer to your prayers for an enhanced memory. Log onto our website at www.nomoreiforgot.com and order yours, um, hang on, what was that date? Oh yeah, order today, before you forget and misplace your car.”

“Increase Your Size and Potency Today!

Tired of being in a locker room full of guys hung like stud horses when you’re hung like a stud chipmunk? Tired of being called Tiny Tim, or having your girl ask, is it in? If so, then RIP-A-DICK® is for you! That’s right, the all new and completely safe MALE ENHANCEMENT compound, tested and declared potent by the FBDA (Federal Big Dicks Agency), RIP-A-DICK® is the new chosen path to the size women love! Recent laboratory experiments have shown results of male member increases that boggle the mind! Men everywhere are praising RIP-A-DICK® as the wonder of the 21st century! Try RIP-A-DICK® today!”

Was there a full moon last night? Yes. Is there any truth to the age-old stories of full moon-induced craziness? Nah. (“Where wolf? There wolf.”)

Love and sharp cheddar,

Cap’n John

Here, take a listen to The Byrds: “Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins”


Back on May 25, 1961, then President John Kennedy announced to a joint session of Congress that it was his intention to do everything necessary to put an American on the moon by the end of the decade, a promise that was fulfilled on July 20, 1969, a mere eight years and change later, when Astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed the lunar module Eagle on the moon’s surface. The flurry of NASA activity during those years was in direct response to the various Russian successes in space exploration in the late ‘50s, notably the launch and successful orbiting of the satellite Sputnik, the first manned sub-orbital flight of Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin and the insertion into earth orbit and subsequent return via rocket/capsule of Dogmonaut Laika.

It is always been a source of no small amazement to me what this country can accomplish when given a “goose” with a large enough cattle prod.

I was almost finished with fourth grade at Our Lady of Perpetual Motion grade school when President Kennedy made his historic commitment that May, and I have been fascinated by space/space exploration ever since. The original Mercury guys, the ones novelist Tom Wolfe said possessed the “right stuff”, the later astronauts like White, Lovell, Chaffee and Haise, heroes all, the awe-inspiring launches of the massive rockets from Cape Canaveral, the name later changed to Cape Kennedy to honor the man who seriously got the ball rolling, the Voyager missions in the ‘70s, the Mars rovers Opportunity and later Curiosity, the International Space Station, even all the great science fiction of Heinlein, Bradbury, Asimov, Burroughs and Michener (I have read many of  Mr. Michener’s works, and for my money, Space was one of his finest novels), all of these things and many more have contributed to my ongoing love of everything “out there”. Throw in all the great movies/TV shows like Star Trek, Contact, Star Wars, The Right Stuff, the Alien series, even spoofs like Mel Brooks’ Spaceballs and the spot-on hilarious Galaxy Quest and you get an idea of my fascination with the concept that homo sapiens will someday go off-planet, “to boldly go where no one has gone before”. (I briefly toyed with the idea of moving to Mars recently, but sadly, in response to the immigration crisis facing this country, I’m told that President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump intends to close the border between here and there, making the move impossible.)

I read with great enthusiasm all the articles I come across involving “space”, including the one I read just this morning (see link below), in which researchers at the National Science Foundation announced that back in May of 2017, per CNN, they were able, using a “global network of telescopes to see and capture the first-ever picture of a black hole”. Until recently, it was not generally known that black holes are in fact extremely camera shy.


I suspect the reason we haven’t previously been able to obtain visual images of these amazing phenomena is simply the incredible distances involved; the said “supermassive” black hole is located near the center of the Messier 87 galaxy, or M87, which is roughly 55 million light years from Earth. (You will recall from my post of 3/14/19 ENGLISH AS A SECOND LANGUAGE_PART TWO that a light year is 1.9 TRILLION miles…I tried to multiply 1.9 trillion by 55 million using the calculator on my desktop computer and it laughed at me.) In addition to being one helluva long way off, the black hole is incomprehensively large, having a mass 6.5 BILLION times that of our Sun, or about the weight/mass of our current President.

Space…the final frontier.

Speaking of space(y), hardly a day goes by that I don’t receive a letter, an email, a text, a telegram, a CandyGram (remember that great scene in Blazing Saddles where Cleavon Little, dressed as an old-time telegram delivery guy, marches into the saloon with a box of chocolates in his hand, calling out “CandyGram for Mongo, CandyGram for Mongo”), a smoke signal or a secret decoder-ring message, seeking my help and/or advice on someone’s love life, or lack thereof.

Yeah, right…asking me for help with your love life is like asking a kindergartener for tips on the stock market.

But people do write me, and occasionally I like to share some of the more pathetic, er, excuse me, the more heart-rending stories that I hear about love unrequited, or non-negotiable at least, with you, my loyal readers.

By your leave…

“Dear Cap’n John:

                I’m a single female in my late 20s, a classic case of “never a bride, always a turret lathe operator”; I’m a school teacher by profession, providing pre-schoolers with instruction on the stock market and investments. My luck with men is catastrophic…if my love life was a financial matter, I would be the ’08 recession. I live in a rural area, and I recently met a guy at a cud-chewing contest who I really have a case of serious hormonal attraction for; he was there with his pet Guernsey Hermione, and he seemed quite attached to the beast. Cap’n John, what can I do to take his mind off the milker and get his attention refocused on someone with a much smaller set of mammary glands?

                                Tired Of Being A Milk “Maid” in Mooville”

Dear “Maid”:

                Think you’ve got it rough, how would you like to be the guy who administers enemas to constipated bovines? Eeeeeyeewww. (FYI, they’re not taken orally.)

“Dear CJK:

                I sure hope you can help me, Cap’n…I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve been dating a guy who is a NASA scientist for over five years now (I’ll call him Bob, although his name is actually Robert) and despite the fact that my biological clock is starting to sound like a Canaveral countdown, Ol’ Bob still hasn’t popped the question. He’s a great guy, good-looking and very smart but preoccupied with things like propulsion, rato jets, Moon rocks and the theory of reliability, or some such silly thing. Any suggestions on how I can get Rocket Man off the launch pad and into my heavenly body?

                                Mary from Mission Control”

Dear Mary:

                I’d look Slide Rule Bob in the eye and ask him if he’s ever had an Atlas rocket enema and then offer to provide one for him if he doesn’t start thinking more about a trip to the altar than the manned mission to Mars.

“Dear Cap’n:

                Where can a mid-30s single hetero male find an attractive, intelligent woman with all her own teeth that wants to pursue a serious relationship? Yeah, I know, it’s a rhetorical question, but boy, I sure wish I had an answer for it. I’ve tried online dating services, singles bars, cud-chewing contests, tribal gatherings and church socials (I’m a lay deacon at Our Lady of the Blessed Fundament church) with absolutely no luck at all. I’ve gotten so desperate that now I’m writing to a guy who, sorry, no offense, hasn’t had a steady girlfriend in this century, asking for dating advice. Please help me, Obi-Wan, you’re my last hope.

                                A “Lay” Deacon In Name Only”

Dear Lay:

                “…hasn’t had a girlfriend in this century.” Hey, Church Boy, you ever had an Atlas rocket enema?

“Dear Kris Johnsongs Cap’n:

                You have ignored our repeated attempts to collect this debt, making it necessary…”

Never mind that one.

“Dear Cap’n John:

                I read your WATRUK blog every week, which might explain why women think I’m mentally challenged. When I’m not raising gerbils for fun and profit as a hobby, I date with some regularity, if you want to call once a millennia regular. I’m a dressing room attendant at Thongs R’ Us, so I get to meet many attractive, single women, but meeting them is one thing, getting them to go out with me another. I’m not ugly or socially awkward (well, not much anyway), but I just can’t seem to click with that “special girl”. Any ideas on what I can do to kick-start my love life, oh Dating Guru?

                                Reese N. Thong”

Dear Reese:

                Remember when thongs were something you wore on your feet and “flip-flop” meant you reversed your course 180 degrees? Ah, the good old days, when men were hairy-chested, women double-breasted and being a Republican wasn’t a social stigma, remember them? Yeah, me neither.

Well, according to the “word count” thingie at the bottom of my screen, I’m now 1.9 trillion miles into this post, so I’m pretty sure it’s time to quit. I sincerely hope the above has helped any of you having problems with the opposite sex, although I’m pretty sure it didn’t. (I’m told by experts at NASA that ”opposite sex” requires a trombone, a 15-amp fuse, a Chia Pet and a 55-gallon drum of CoolWhip.)

Space, in between my ears.

Love and galaxies,

Cap’n John