Make the most of what the Internet can offer!

Not that I really give a shit about the NYTimes web site -- I only ever read it when someone sends me a link to the rare interesting article, and even then I read it through an ad-blocking proxy -- but I thought this quote was really classy:

The New York Times' Web site will begin displaying half-page magazine-style ads adjacent to its articles, making its online pages appear more similar to their print counterparts.

"It's a nice, big ad unit," said Jason Krebs, vice president of advertising sales for the "We're trying to make the most of what the Internet can offer."

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This is beautiful:

"NPR had an interview with one of those people who think we should not send people into space, but rely entirely on robots. As I pulled into the parking lot at the mall he casually asked "what can a man do on Mars that a robot cannot?"

PLANT A FUCKING FLAG ON THE PLANET, I shouted at the radio. Pardon my language. But. On a day when seven brave people died while fulfilling their brightest ambitions, this was the wrong day to suggest we all stay tethered to the dirt until the sun grows cold. Are we less than the men who left safe harbors and shouldered through cold oceans? After all, they sailed into the void; we can look up at the night sky and point at where we want to go. There: that bright white orb. We're going. There: that red coal burning on the horizon. We're going. And we're not sending smart toys on our behalf - we're sending human beings, and one of them will put his boot on the sand and bring the number of worlds we've visited to three. And when he plants the flag he will use flesh and sinew and blood and bone to drive it into the ground. His heartbeat will hammer in his ears; his mind will spin a kaleidoscopic medley of all the things he'd thought he'd think at this moment, and he'll grin: I had it wrong. I had no idea what it would truly be like. He'd imagined this moment as oddly private; he'd thought of himself, the red land, the flag in his hand, and he heard music, as though the moment would be fully scored when it happened. But there isn't any music; there's the sound of his breath and the thrum of his pulse. It seems like everyone who ever lived is standing behind him at the other end of a vast dark auditorium, waiting for the flag to stand on the ground of Mars. Then he will say something. He might stumble on a word or two, because he's only human.

But look what humans have done. Again. "

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space elevators, again

Wired hypothesizes (without anything to back it up, really) that the Shuttle disaster might spur development of a space elevator:

Meanwhile Time follows the money and delivers some scathing (and, I think, fairly well deserved) criticism to the shuttle and ISS programs:

Space elevators are super cool. I babbled on about them in an April journal entry:

Folks are claiming that a space elevator could be built for $10B, which is just under twice NASA's current annual manned spaceflight budget. For that, you can lift to orbit for $100/Kg instead of $40,000/Kg.

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