Day 388: Mars One Bobby.

A few years ago there was a Space X marketing campaign asking for volunteers to live on Mars, you may remember it?

Well, I volunteered.

I made a series of application videos called MarsOne Bobby.

I guess I have a flare for naming projects, 1 part subject, 1 part Bobby.

EarthBobby.

Stop or My Mom Will Shoot Is a Oscar Worthy Performance By Sylvester Stallone Bobby.

Soon after volunteering for the Space X experience I realized it would be better to make a film chronicling the application process and eventually, the transplant to Mars, than to actually go to Mars forever.

The major player in this about face decision was the permanency of never seeing the ocean or a rainstorm again.

Instead I thought if the series could chronicle a real life Armageddon movie, it could be really funny, possibly even funnier than Armageddon.

As a viewer of my series, you would get to see the volunteers video submissions.

Think American Idol, but for space.

The Space X requirements for successful applicants were not exclusive to an educational pedigree, science background or military service, the applicants could be regular people.

Like me.

Sort of like me.

He could be Alcoholic Steve from Canterbury.

Ginger Mike from Cape Breton.

Or Kendrick Lamar from Compton.

In my loose outline of a script, after the MarsOne team was selected they began a training program to acclimate to the realities of living on Mars.

Isolation training.

Conflict resolution training.

How to navigate common psychological problems while living inside a bubble, training.

Microsoft Word training.

After a year of preparation the MarsOne group blasted off to the red planet,

After a few months of being martians, there were problems.

MarsOne Bobby, played by Giovanni Ribisi, disliked taking orders from the team nutritionist, psychologist and several Space X organizers stationed on Earth.

Giovanni Ribisi, the legend.

Furthermore MarsOne Bobby, played by Giovanni Ribisi, was annoyed with various people within the MarsOne community delegating duties to volunteers based on, what he interrupted to be, favoritism.

The behavior responsible for the continued destruction of earth, has no place here, on Mars.” Giovanni Ribisi Bobby, said.

MarsOne Bobby slowly detached from the routines and data missions, soon he was estranged from the Space X group altogether.

MarsOne Bobby convinced other members to separate from the MarsOne community.

The division quickly escalated to a violent power struggle.

A bloody, live on Zoom, revolution, that would ultimately win independence for Mars from Earth.

The moral of my story was to remind people how important our world is.

Earth.

For those of you who watch Keeping Up With The Kardashians

I was suggesting that removing humans from Earth, would result in a pervasive compassionate ineptitude.

It was meant to be an homage to Lord of the flies, and various geopolitical attitudes throughout the ages.

But mainly, it was to spotlight the importance of our world.

The oneness that should exist between the Earth and we, the beings of it’s namesake, the Earthling.

The reason I’m bringing this up now is lately I feel like I’m living on Mars.

The world around me is restricting if not defying freedoms altogether.

Brazenly contradicting the fundamental virtues of democracy.

Police in Hong Kong and the USA are acting like third rich deathsquads.

A human being with a Trillion dollars of personal wealth is no longer an absurd Bond villain imagination, his name is Jeff Bezos, winner of Captialism, yet here we all are, still being forced to play it.

Meanwhile economic slavery is normalized in the developed world, and desired in the undeveloped.

I don’t mean to sound preachy but.

A local guy yelled at me to wear a face mask as I pushed my way through a dozen cows eating garbage on the road.

Five minutes later a troop of wild monkeys stole a half eaten cob of corn from my hands.

The disparity between rich and poor is real.

I’m aggravated.

Being part of a forced lockdown for two and a half months has been a unforgivable expression of authority by India.

An expression of authority that has not been uniform.

Yesterday some rich asshole flew over me in a helicopter.

I guess rich people are immune to Corona virus.

Note* After reading this I realized Giovanni Ribisi played Parker Selfridge, the bad guy in Avatar.

So he might not be the best choice to play the liberator of Mars.

That, or my subconscious is making a statement.

Day 370: Indian Lock Down Is Like Being Grounded By A Passive Aggressive Step Dad.

I’ll start with a statement.

It’s 40 degrees here in India.

And I feel like I’ve been sent to the corner.

For those who don’t know or remember, sending a disruptive child to stand facing the corner of a classroom, as a disciplinary measure, was a normalized behavior modification tool used by educators in the 1990’s.

I spent a lot of time facing the corner while a classroom conducted itself behind me.

A lot of time.

I don’t want to deviate too far off my intended topic, but I’m amazed at how, with a little retrospect, what was once considered a normal enforced teaching policy is now considered destructive, even abusive by today’s standards.

What realities will be barbaric transgressions when filtered through tomorrows standards?

That kids are targeted by, designed to be addictive online platforms?

That capitalism is now a billion printers going Brrrr?

I was recently approved for a 30th of June visa extension.

Thanks India.

But you cancelled all international flights until June 30th.

So I have to apply again?

Apply, that’s a funny word.

To require all foreigners to apply for permission to stay in a country with absolutely no option to leave, is criminally redundant.

My opinion.

A police officer fined me for not wearing a mask outside, he ended my rather impassioned anti-mask diatribe with “This is India, not your country”

I know where I am dick face!

And breathe.

I don’t know when the government here will actually end the lock down.

It’s been extended twice already.

The Indian Prime Minister is a bit of a cowboy, who’s to say when he will understand that peacocking to an international audience is actually destroying the ideology that is so authentically Indian.

I refuse to explain that statement to anyone who has never visited India.

Nothing against you, but you could never understand the position of someone with a fear of the dark, if you were born a jellyfish.

India is not New Zealand.

No matter how hard it tries to be.

Where was I?

Cowboy president, right.

Because of sudden changes to international flight bans, the carrier(s) for the several flights that I booked back to Canada were cancelled the day before my initial flight was scheduled to depart Delhi.

According to the person(s) with my 1,500$, I wasn’t entitled to a full refund because when the airline canceled my flight last minute, it was my fault.

But MasterCard Initiated fuck you mode, on my behalf and refunded me almost instantly.

You will never hear me thank Mastercard.

But having purchasing insurance, meaning I don’t have to deal with someone working in an Indian call center promising me vouchers for three different budget carries, made me almost want a MasterCard tattoo.

Almost.

The list of things to complain about here in India are mostly creative constructions.

I’m constantly reminding myself of that.

Most of what I find irksome can be remedied with a twilight walk through the potent smell of wild Jasmine in full bloom.

Truth.

A daily experience that has become my Jurassic Park, if that I were Dr John Hammond, of course.

To be clear.

There is a tremendous amount of police enforced regulation here, affecting basic, internationally recognized freedoms.

There is a personal cost, both financially and psychologically to these enforcements.

The Canadian Government will arrange a repatriated flight for citizens, for 3000$ dollars.

They even offer a loan scheme for people who can’t afford it.

Before India extended flight restrictions in May, flights were being advertised for less than 1000$ on Skyscanner.

I’ve read the justifications the Canadian embassy has made defending the cost of their flights.

It’s bullshit.

I don’t know who’s making a profit charging Canadians $3000 a seat, on several fully booked flights, but someone is.

If someone from the Canadian embassy in Delhi reads this: What you’re doing is predatory behavior, I very seriously doubt the repatriated flights bringing Indians back to India from Canada are costing them 3000$.

The thing is, I’m ok here, sure I have some complaints, but I’m content.

There are people here, however, who aren’t content, people who wanna go home, and they can’t.

Making Canadians fill out a loan application for a overpriced ticket home, is just wrong.

I can’t do anything about India, as it was explained to me, this is not my country.

But Canada is, I have a stake in how our system expresses itself when in defiance to compassionate ideals.

And you’re busted, you hypocritical land mass.

I’m going to cut my grass so hard if I ever get home.

Lastly.

People here call me Corona.

Being a tourist in India right now is like being a Muslim in NewYork on September 12, 2001.