Showing posts with label Space Cowboy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Space Cowboy. Show all posts

Saturday, February 14, 2026

Starve The Dark, And Reach For The Stars...

Space Hotel


It seems like movies have been apocalyptic forever…but they haven’t.

Somewhere in the late 1990’s or early 2000’s, television and movies went to the dark side. Almost all future visions in TV and cinema became dark, jaded, faded, or dying. 

It’s like the entirety of entertainment production dived into a psychological black hole of doom and gloom.

Prior to that we had a few here and there, but most future visions were a dance of slow improvements to galactic expansion.

It almost seems like some controlling force has colluded with screen feeds to spit out violent trauma feeds unto infinity.

We need to stop swallowing the negativity, turn away from the apocalypse in the box office, come together, and reach for the stars and for life.

As a global culture, we are starved for a positive vision, as things sit now.

It is time for us to start laying seeds. To go from the sleepwalking dead to the intrepid explorers of the living universe.

It’s time to tear down the Epsteinian pizza parlor of horrors, and start building space hotels and colonies, and throw the past into Pele’s bosom.

Vote with your wallets, and if that seems to leave life in reruns, be a writer or storyteller with tales of wonder and big accomplishments.

Starve the dark, and reach for the stars.

Dan A. Stafford 02-14-2026
 

Wednesday, September 28, 2022

Rollin' Rockets...

 


AuthorDate Entered/ModifiedViews
Daniel A. Stafford8/11/2000 6:12:32 AM
9/25/2022 7:40:04 AM
2475

Rollin' Rockets

Rocket Cowboy full of dreams,
I really dig those blast off schemes.
Innovation all the rage,
Help us beat the gravity cage.

$10,000 a pound is sure steep.

If you can find your way into the sky,
At $100.00 a pound I think I'll try,
Take a shot at the moon,
Who knows, maybe a launch in June.

Can this vision be fulfilled?

If the bank won't pass the buck,
Well, please don't feel you're out of luck.
There are those who would up & cry,
If they could just get to fly so high.

The rocket of the future is on the verge.

Helicopter rotors with rocket tipped blades,
Visions in a thousand shades.
Space travel as common as flight,
Another launch most every night.

Lasso that buck and build your dreams!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

I've followed some of the developments in rocketry
innovation in recent years. I really hope some of these
things come to pass, a new paradigm in rocketry might
just open the solar system for real, once the cost to get
up from Earth's gravity drops as these folks are envisioning.
See: http://www.rotaryrocket.com for just one of these ideas
that promise to change completely our future if developed.


AuthorDate Entered/ModifiedViews
Daniel A. Stafford8/11/2000 6:12:32 AM
9/25/2022 7:40:04 AM
2475

Wednesday, August 02, 2017

The Universe According To Space Cowboy…

The Universe According To Space Cowboy…

Some people called him Ray Gunslinger,

And he was kind of cool with that.

He wore a white hat, and steam punk shades,
Carried a weapon that crossed a sonic screwdriver with a badly used lightsaber,
Scared the crap out of everyone he met out there in the wide cosmos.

Space Cowboy also carried a six charge ray gun on his hip,
Modeled after an old Earth Colt revolver and holstered in antique leather.

He was faster than light beamed at a black hole with either,
So don’t mess with the kid.

A guy in a Tardis picked him up out of his back yard,
One crazy Summer day when Ray was ten.

He had some crazy adventures,
Learned all about galaxy-conquering deathbots and how to un-bolt them,
Then escaped the Time Lord of gibbery goodness in a crazy Tardis junkyard.

Ray was a mechanical man,
Even though he was made of flesh and bone.

He cobbled and he cribbed,
Tinkered and jiggered,
And danced off into the galaxy rise,
Proud owner of a fully-functional but butt-ugly time and space displacer,
Which looked for all the universe like a flying garage.

He was great about fixing stuff,
Be it evil or old junk,
But he was better at telling a story.

His yarn didn’t come off a spindle,
No siree, Earthlings,
Space Cowboy’s yarn came from his lips,
But it was so fantastic,
It was hard to figure he could’ve made it up.

If there was an evil critter out among the stars,
Ray would just as soon talk ’em into the Ever-After as shoot a blaster at their behind.

His only regret?

That cobbled-up replicator was only good for beach towels,
Beans and Starbucks coffee.

The cool part?
His go-lever in the Tardis made a sound like “yippee kiyay!” every time he took off.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/14/2016