Friday, October 16th, 2026
Waxing Moon, Cycle 3, Era 20
Florida. Ninety-four degrees, with the humidity of a mouth.
Blue Origin is spending $330 million to make New Glenn launch several times a week. For decades it was my lifeboat. Today it became a commuter rail, and nobody makes a dramatic escape on something with a timetable.
At the groundbreaking the engineers were happy. Not managed-happy but valve-fixing happy, and my suit began sweating from places I never ordered sweat glands installed. I smiled to compensate, wide and then wider, until a child in the second row began backing quietly toward the alligator fence.
Comms called the photos "approachable." In Florida, a man smiling past his own molars just looks like he's selling timeshares.
When a reporter asked about wetlands mitigation, I said "Drain them dry!" with real feeling, meaning the energy livestock, and the county commissioner applauded because this is Florida and that is a drainage policy.
Multiple launches a week means the exit now runs on fuel, cranes, and people who love their jobs, none of which I can eat. I've booked the absorption chamber for a double session. Satiation is stagnation, and departures are Tuesdays and Thursdays.