I really think water is the first place to go. Not only are there plenty of resources beneath the ocean, it's pretty clear that we *don't* yet have the technologies necessary for prolonged travel in space, let alone for colonization of hostile extraterrestrial environments. Mastering an aquatic existence will help to develop the strategi…
I really think water is the first place to go. Not only are there plenty of resources beneath the ocean, it's pretty clear that we *don't* yet have the technologies necessary for prolonged travel in space, let alone for colonization of hostile extraterrestrial environments. Mastering an aquatic existence will help to develop the strategies (both sociological and technical) required to leave the Earth entirely.
You mean under water, like colonizing Doggerland? I have often been thinking of building big ships and platforms for the oceans, but living under water hasn't really occurred to me as an option. It seems dark down there.
Humanity makes his home in a thin film atop the great planet-ship of Earth. Above, he sees infinity stretched out before his eyes, star beyond star beckoning to be explored. But he sees far because there is so little to obstruct his vision. Once he reaches other stars and other worlds, how long before he encounters impenetrable depths - densities of mass, gravity, and chemistry unknown to the emptiness of space? He recoils, momentarily disoriented; how can he negotiate with these extremes?
But then he realizes that such depths have never been far away. They await him within his own home, hidden by the foamy spray of the ocean, a fluid underworld where he must protect himself not from vacuum, but pressure; not arid lifelessness, but teeming alien biologies. While the stars may seem close and familiar to him, it is only emptiness that creates this illusion. His nearer frontier is the sea.
I really think water is the first place to go. Not only are there plenty of resources beneath the ocean, it's pretty clear that we *don't* yet have the technologies necessary for prolonged travel in space, let alone for colonization of hostile extraterrestrial environments. Mastering an aquatic existence will help to develop the strategies (both sociological and technical) required to leave the Earth entirely.
You mean under water, like colonizing Doggerland? I have often been thinking of building big ships and platforms for the oceans, but living under water hasn't really occurred to me as an option. It seems dark down there.
Humanity makes his home in a thin film atop the great planet-ship of Earth. Above, he sees infinity stretched out before his eyes, star beyond star beckoning to be explored. But he sees far because there is so little to obstruct his vision. Once he reaches other stars and other worlds, how long before he encounters impenetrable depths - densities of mass, gravity, and chemistry unknown to the emptiness of space? He recoils, momentarily disoriented; how can he negotiate with these extremes?
But then he realizes that such depths have never been far away. They await him within his own home, hidden by the foamy spray of the ocean, a fluid underworld where he must protect himself not from vacuum, but pressure; not arid lifelessness, but teeming alien biologies. While the stars may seem close and familiar to him, it is only emptiness that creates this illusion. His nearer frontier is the sea.