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Since the beginning of time, Man has been fascinated with the dome above his head. I am speaking of the sky. Mythology across every culture is littered with stories about the creation of the sky, about the gods who control the sky, and about the dangers of Man venturing into the other domain. Often the sky god is the most powerful of all the gods, and often he is the father of mankind. For instance, in the Rig Veda, a collection of ancient Hindu hymns, Indra is described as the king of the gods. He has authority over the sky and the power to make rain with his thunderbolt. He is depicted as a man with four long arms riding a white elephant (above). In Greek mythology, Zeus has similar powers. For ancient Man, the sky was the seat of the greatest power in the universe.
But the sky was also a source of malevolent danger for Man. Sky gods are often petty and quarrelsome, and quick to smite those who displease them. The Maori people of New Zealand believed that the sky god,
Rangi, held his beloved wife Papa, the Earth, in a tight embrace in order to prevent the creation of the world. Only the god of the forests,
Tane, was able to separate the two and allow the world to be born. Another example would be the now familiar parable of Icarus. As long as he has dared to dream, Man has believed that if we ventured too far into the domain of the gods, we were doomed to death.
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Now technology has taken us further into the sky than these ancient peoples could fathom. The ballooning Parisians of the 1780s advanced man one stage, the Wright Brothers another, Chuck Yeager yet another, and finally American astronauts and Russian cosmonauts (right) triumphed over the sky. We overcame all the barriers and left the sky and the planet behind.
I was seventeen years old when Neil Armstrong walked on the surface of the moon. I can not deny that the event sent a powerful message of valiant perseverance and human ingenuity. But I was disturbed by the warnings of the ancients. Had we gone too far? Had we angered God? And would our triumph over one of the oldest sources of fascination and fear for Man result in a deeply cynical and morally bankrupt society? With the benefit of nearly 40 years of reflection, I believe that the answer to all of my questions is a resounding yes.
This is one of the central components of my belief that we need to return to Space Geology. Man has an unquenchable desire to learn more, but too often he rushes forward into new ideas without fully understanding those of the past. Space Geology holds many answers that we have yet to uncover, and these mysteries must be addressed before we can move upward and outward.