Space Note #393-ANV

by RAF KATIGBAK

Dear fellow astronauts,

As most of you may know, the Russian Soyuz spacecraft is scheduled to dock at our International Space Station in a few days. For many of you, this is exciting news since this means the delivery of much needed supplies and equipment: new carbon-dioxide absorption cartridges for the LDEF, replacement LEDs for our helmet-mounted flood lights and, most importantly, that final season of Sex and the City on DVD flight engineer Treschev has been bugging me about.

Also, as some of you may have heard, the Soyuz will also be delivering a very special guest: Canadian Guy Laliberté. Some of you may know him as the creator of the international sensation Cirque du Soleil or, as I call it, “The most mind-expanding thing to do when you’re high since watching The Wizard of Oz while listening to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.”

Laliberté is on a humanitarian mission to tell the world how important water is and will be composing a poem to be read aboard our space station. While that might not sound as important as the other missions we have going on here, like studying the health of the Earth’s rivers or growing perfect crystals to develop better medicines and semi-conductors, I have been assured by ground control that this is a very sincere and earnest endeavor and not some elaborate prank by the Canadian Space Agency like that giant mitten they sent for the Canadarm. Did I mention he was writing a poem about the importance of water?! I mean, WTF right? Let’s just hope it’s more engaging than those Canadian television shows astronaut Thirsk makes us watch, or a lot of us will be going out for an “emergency spacewalk.”

I know morale has been a bit low since I called off Anti-Grav Orgy Thursdays, but let’s stay positive. Rather than seeing Laliberté’s visit, as flight engineer Peggy Whitson put it, as “just another rich astro-poser trying to run with some true space playaz,” let’s see this as an opportunity to showcase the important work we do here. Remember: a good report back home will only help the profile of our individual country’s space programs, so it’s important that we’re all on our best behaviour. It then follows that some of our more casual, informal interactions will need to be curbed for the duration of Laliberté’s visit. These new rules are effective immediately:

• When touring the observation deck and asking if Laliberté would “like to see Uranus,” pulling his pants down is not an acceptable manoeuvre.

• When demonstrating the vertical sleeping bags, trying to show him your “galactic Dutch oven” is inappropriate (I’m talking to you, Kuipers).

• There will be no more food fights in the mess hall. Not only does it convey unprofessionalism, last time Sergei almost caught a dehydrated string bean in the eye, which was scary. Also, do you really want to be cleaning Jell-O particles from the solar refraction unit for another three hours? Didn’t think so.

• I’m not going to name names, but someone has not been flushing the space toilet. Maybe you get some kind of kick out of it, I don’t know, but believe me, sitting down for a quiet morning D and having someone else’s ass-teroid suddenly float by your head is not funny. Oh and, if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be real sweet and wipe the damn space toilet seat already.

• Whoever’s been putting “Space Oddity” on repeat over the com-link during spacewalks has seriously got to stop.

• Finally, even though Laliberté will be assisting with some experiments, there are a few more delicate ones that he should probably be excluded from, specifically: Combustion of intestinal gasses as a means of propulsion in a microgravity environment (i.e. lighting your farts to get around the space station).

Remember, while he may not have gone through the rigorous training and education that we all did to realize our dream of space travel, that is no reason to treat him differently. Keep in mind: just because he’s a billionaire ex-firebreathing entrepeneur dilettante and alleged party animal and sex freak, he’s also human. And just like the rest of us, I’m sure he puts on his designer neon-pastel jizz-stained poetry-writing unitard on one leg at a time.

Commander Valery Korzun

P.S. The handlebar moustache contest is hereby suspended until further notice.

RIFF-RAFF@SYMPATICO.CA