I have no doubt that the moon should one day be colonized, that it should happen in my near lifetime, and that the fruits of it belong expressly in my pocket to the regard my work should attain it. The moon, barely within mankind's grasp, was traveled to once and all but forgotten after we realized there was no oil on it. That the idea of putting oil on the moon could be accomplished was far too out of our reach, because any idea of self-sufficiency or boldness, human initiative, had long been lost on us. What did remain was the desire for oil, but not for humans, rather humans for oil, to collect as much of it as possible so that at one point we might be glad to have it, right up the point that the bony mess from which it was derived from those 'saurs too long ago resembles our bare fixture.

The moon can be colonized, however, because it is expressly within our reach. I want to go to the moon, and the nearby stars. I love America. Beautiful land, beautiful country. But it's not what it once was. I say Make America Great Again, but the people in California want to make it something else. Probably a figure resembling in its end that bony mixture. The frontier. You've got to love early America because it was freedom, not just in abstract principle but in embodiment. And you could go out into the open, uncharted land and make your own house, do your own thing, ride your own horse, and be your man.

Being a man is wonderful, and the responsibility, bravery, and boldness in charity that came with it at one point, once indeed a natural disposition for all those acquainted has been cast into no more than a bedtime story or a small homage at nostalgic hours. Ah, what disdain I cast upon those ignoramuses, and indeed despite it I take it upon my broad shoulders to fix it, if broad shoulders be any form that acts boldly and with civil mischief, and if civil mischief be not sin but merely a quaint or humorous wordplay I use to signify the desire for freedom in that where there is no arbiter of action but God, or nature, yet definitely no other man, depending on his will. Oh, how lovely it would be, too, as the Founders and their kin rode horse and gun to build a country against idiots–talking about the British, to be clear, in case the leftists want to assume I mean my countrymen or some other vain misinterpretation–to ride a spaceship and railgun to the moon, to build my own lunar cabin, base, or fortress. Not with the idea of solitude or some random love affair with nature, as some seem to think, or as others would oddly attempt to act out. No, but rather a pretty practical yet holy affair simply wishing to put my talents to the use of nature as God intended them to be put to use, not to work for the sake of oil but to use the resources of the Earth and its stars for my gain, or the gain of those I deem worthy or in common love, which are all those who love freedom, and is that not us all?

Who can deny the appeal of sailing to the moon in a spaceship, charting my own course, our own destiny? It's a story like this that gets so many to love it, and yet this love affair is to be dearly appreciated, because it's not a wanton one out in the woods, nor some spectacular sight to behold for its own sake as if nature, derelict of duty, decided that she was to obeyed summarily without appreciating the common form that she gave birth to that governs above it. If human nature consists of free will, then it ought to be free.

That's what this is: a solemn plea, too, I think. I plea to the world to sail to the moon, in ship and star, as we colonized this beauteous country and set foot in common glory. No one owns the moon, just as no one owned America, except all Americans, and remember that with the Homestead Act we could be reimbursed for our troubles for filling the land. What I'm asking for is a lunar homestead act. Give me a spaceship and 40 acres on the moon, and I shall turn it into gold. In fact, I demand it. Because if man holds the world in common, and the moon be in our reach, then doubtlessly it falls into my common hand to be conquered, or ordained, or obtained or otherwise manifested into some more fruitful form than it is now.

Why work ourselves with such hilarious things like oil when I could set up a base on the moon? "Oh," they would cry, ignoring the stupidity of their voice, "but it might be dangerous to go the moon!" It never occurs to these people that danger is what some people want, and that a life lived without any danger, or for the sole purpose of avoiding danger, is hardly fulfilling in any meaningful capacity. A man dies doing what he loves, and people grieve, not understanding that he perhaps dearly enjoyed that death, because it was good one. Or perhaps that they would have preferred to avoid it, but they wouldn't have done anything else, because they loved to live that type of life. This is not to advocate for BASE jumping, but not against it either, but it certainly does advocate for skydiving! And if that's too risky and it to be condemned, then I ought to condemn all those who condemn it, and perhaps consider sending them to some other planet to be colonized far more distant from the moon, such as Australia was a penal colony; they can be charted to a red rock on Mars for their ignorance against human nature.

Daringly I say this, for I am a daring man. It's hardly possible to be daring these days without hearing all sorts of protests, along the lines of it's too dangerous, you're absurd, how could you do anything that hasn't been done before several hundred times and replicated to the point of utter banality, and so forth, each statement itself becoming increasingly less original that if the very first person who expressed incredulity possessed any mediocrity of originality, by the time you get to the seventh, or in some cases 18th person who says that I ought to not be so bold, I'm hardly even listening, and instead imagining what type of lunar rock is best to build a base out of, or how I should achieve fueling my spaceship to go and mine rocks, asteroids, resources.

Even the act of me saying I want to go to the moon, set up my base, be a cool brave guy taking my own chances, usually gets me not only looked at with incredulity, but it's as if I've said something supremely or superlatively outrageous, characterized only by mischief and despair, and altogether necessitating or requiring a form of what is often called polite reeducation, which is usually a term used to describe a series of gasps and half-hearted slogans about entering some form of workforce which usually benefits very uncivilly detached, unrighteous, or un-Christian people, or otherwise putting my bold and many talents to a use outside the bounds of my own wit and superiority, yet to be applied to an illusory or decrepit form. If God, sitting on his throne in heaven, could look down and see these people, it's clear to me that by any ordinary reading of Scripture he'd make a credibly manifest appointment of their stupidity, which is what he must be doing right now, through me.

If these people operate only by being told, then they're told now.

At any rate, my lunar base ought to be very big and large, almost as big as my ego, which is almost as big as my competence, the both of which are far larger than most, if not all other, men's, and certainly larger than most other people's at large. That's because I'm good at what I do, very good, and not used to submitting to phony directions.

In my quest to make this therefore, I submit an open plea to America to let me colonize the moon on their behalf. Not me specifically, of course, because I'm not that conceited. I mean me to represent all those would go. They should just give people spaceships, invest very heavily in the space industry, and otherwise provide compulsory measure. They can probably do so by stop sending so much foreign aid to those Godless countries and let Americans go and colonize the moon. We'd bring space guns, too, so when those atheist Chinese or Russians come, we can send them to their Maker. They'd not be too far off, in space. Isn't that the heavens?

Which is my case in point. We love oil, but we don't love what oil could do for us. We could use oil not to fill up gas stations, but to fuel personal spaceships so an individual can on their own go to the moon as for Thanksgiving.