Do this: Next time the sky is clear and the moon is bright, go to a window with a good view of the thing. Ideally, your window will have blinds because you are not a complete imbecile. Open those blinds. Turn off the lights. Yes, things are about to get intimate. Make yourself comfortable. Keep your head very still and your eyes on the moon. Just sit and breathe and watch quietly for two minutes. Using the rungs of your blinds as a measure sit in awed silence as it blazes past each line in a matter of seconds. Holy shit, amiright? (high five) Does anyone else smell the awesome?!
Well, I did. Last night. I smelled it something fierce. As I watched the moon rocket through all that sky I realized that this moon was my moon, our moon, and the moon of every human being that has ever lived. Every person, every living thing in possession of at least one good eye has looked upon that object at one time or another.
And it looked the same way to them as it does to us. And it has worn the same path every night of every day that calamity has struck or enlightenment has been attained in the only world we really know. When the first ferris wheel stopped the show at the Chicago World’s Fair, in the miserable trenches of the Great War, when Louis XIV rendezvous’ed with his mistresses in the gardens of Fontainebleau, when the Aztecs had never heard of Spain or smallpox, when Leonardo da Vinci was burning the midnight wax and envisioning the future, the minute that Rome ceased to be a republic, when the pyramids of Egypt were being built by a superior race of alien beings, when the first Neanderthal felt a little sumpin sumpin for his homo (not in the gay sense) neighbor, and when our ancestors slept in trees and had plenty of time to look at the moon and wonder what it would taste like if they could just jump that high. Dinosaurs hunted and slept by moonlight. The moon reflected off the waves of the ocean way before anything crawled out onto the shore. I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point.
In conclusion, the moon is all right. Five minutes of witnessing our humble satellite’s luminous velocity beats staring at the most exotic celestial body on a computer screen, and that’s any day of the week, bitchez. So slow down. Open the blinds. Grab your woobie and be transported.