You know how they sent dogs up into space before humans? Well here I am, the consummate canine cosmonaut. I mean, let's face it, the first manned missions to Mars are probably gonna fail. And even if somebody does make it to the Red Planet, it'll be a one-way trip because it would just cost too much to even try and bring him back to Earth. It would be much better to send out a worthless person like me to test and iron out the vehicle and the systems, before letting the really important people fly.
Consider how I got no job, no wife or kids, no community, no scene; nobody will miss me when I'm gone. I spend all my time cooped up in my room playing video games, making me a veteran of cabin fever and man-machine relations. I'm still young and strong enough to survive the rigors of space travel, but old and dumb enough to not have wasted my time. I already know the most important thing to bring on this trip will be my coffin.
So, let me be the one to carry all those corporate logos and national flags into another world. You cannot deny that I am noticeably competent for the mission to succeed and perfectly inconsequential should the mission fail.
Outer space is where we get together, in this place we are meant to be. Stars are dancing and the time is fading. Dead forever, you and me...
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