Oh, my, now we've got a crazy astronaut. It was only a matter of time, and as Americans we know there must be a solution to this urgent problem. After all, if one can crack up, what's to stop the others? We could be facing hordes of sex-crazed, free-fall-disoriented space monkeys in orange pressure suits and diapers terrorizing our streets with hammers and pepper spray and BB guns. Here's what I recommend:
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Shut down the manned space program until we know WHY this woman cracked up. Pull the people out of the International Space Station, they're probably about to kill each other, anyway. Shouldn't take more than five or six years to get things straightened out. Ten at the outside. What's the hurry? |
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In future manned space flights, each astronaut should be accompanied by no less than two psychologists, one counselor, and one religious advisor. Of course, since each of these psychological personnel would themselves become astronauts and require observers as well, the math becomes a little fuzzy, but I'm sure the team that designed the Challenger solid-booster O-ring can come up with something. Or just let Congress handle it. After all, they designed the Shuttle, by cutting the budget for building the safer spaceship NASA really wanted. |
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On the ground, the observation team can be reduced to one clinical psychologist per astronaut, 24/7. No less a person than Buzz Aldrin just went on record as thinking astronauts ought to have some sort of "Post mission monitoring." No kidding:
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I could use a little post-mission monitoring myself, come to think of it. You wouldn't believe the stress involved in just writing about going into outer space, much less going there.
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Stop kidding ourselves about this "Trip to Mars" insanity until we can get people there in less than a week. Something like I described (modest cough) in my book RED THUNDER. That, or until we can make ships big enough to contain sanity-ensurers like shopping malls and go-cart tracks and sports arenas. |
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Better yet, let's just forget the whole thing. Obviously people just can't handle outer space. |
The fun's just getting started, my friends. This is already shaping up to be the Trial of the Century, and it's only 7 years old. All because the silly bitch is an astronaut. Where did the idea come from that an astronaut can't have an obsession, or a mental breakdown?