The Four Schmuckateers
On March 31st, these four fine European gentlemen will climb into a fake spaceship in Moscow and spend the next 105 days simulating a trip to Mars for the European Space Agency (ESA). And I, for the life of me, cant understand what they’re so happy about. I mean, look at them. Especially the bald guy. It looks like they all just got off Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean ride and are making a solemn pack to get right back in line and ride it again, and again, and again.
Here’s what they have to look forward to: over three months locked in a cramped metal chamber eating freeze-dried Beefaroni, endlessly checking and re-checking fake instruments, and having the following conversation, or something similar, day after day after day…
“Is today Tuesday? It feels like a Tuesday. But yesterday felt like a Tuesday too. “
“Well, what are we having for dinner tonight?”
“Semi-liquefied chicken cacciatore in a tube with freeze-dried pistachio pudding balls.”
“And to drink?”
“Hans’ recycled urine sweet tea.”
“Yep. It’s Tuesday.”
And at the end of their mission they don’t even get to land on Mars and assume their place in history. At best, they’ll emerge from their capsule (weary and smelling like Beefaroni) and be greeted by a couple of ESA interns wearing Martian costumes.
Maybe it’s just me, but I assumed that anyone who would sign up for such thankless torture would look more like this:
