A Space Junk Prize

 Some months ago, I wrote a post – A fun idea for a moon mission – about a robotic lunar program I would fund if I had billions to burn and wanted to help advance humans into becoming a spacefaring civilization.  The idea would be to 3D print bricks with actual lunar regolith to see how strong they would be.  I was thinking about this recently, and I wondered what other space missions I would fund – if I had billions to burn – to help humans in space.  What I came up with was the J-Prize, I guess, for space junk removal.

This would start with three small satellites, probably launched on an Electron rocket.  The first would be your basic cube sat, the second would be a larger cube sat, but with a solar panel sticking out so it would be odd shaped, and the third satellite would remain attached to the kick stage to help simulate a more massive satellite.  These would be put into slightly different orbits, but which are pretty much guaranteed to decay in the five-to-six-year range.  What exactly these satellites would do, I’d leave that to whoever builds them, probably schools or universities that I would give a free ride to orbit to.  There would be the understanding that these satellites would be given one year to function, but after that they would become targets for deorbiting tech demonstrations.  So they might function for the full five years, or get deorbited right after one year in orbit. 

The tech demonstrations would have three tiers.  The first tier would be to just inspect the satellites.  To that end, there would be symbols, or code phrases put on each.  Prelaunch photos of them would be blurred, and everyone who knows what they are would have to sign NDAs, so to get these codes you’d have to actually fly to these satellites.  And there might be two or three on each satellite, each worth X dollars.  For the third satellite, they might be big and easy to spot, but for the cube sat, they might just be a centimeter in size, so the imaging satellite would have to fly real close to be able to make it out.  So, unlike the other tiers which would pay out more for the larger satellites, for the first tier you’d make the most imaging the smallest.

The second tier would pay if you manage to deorbit the satellite early.  This could be accomplished by attaching some sort of drag, or attaching a small rocket to push it out of orbit, whatever.  The third tier would be if they manage to return the satellite intact to Earth. 

I have no idea what the exact prize amounts would be, but I’d say that the second tier would be more than enough to refund the cost of manufacturing the deorbiting satellite and launching it.  And, there would be bonus prizes.  Like, if a company successfully deorbits one of the test satellites, then for the next ten years they’d get $1 million for each piece of space junk they deorbit.  But if a company didn’t succeed with one of these test satellites, but they do succeed with some other junk within the next ten years, they’d get $500 thousand, or something.  Because the whole idea of this is to try to incentivize companies into finding ways to clean up space junk.  As such, I wondered if there should be a penalty if they damage a satellite and create space junk, but that would scare people off.  And that’s why these test satellites would be put into such short-lived orbits. 

So that’s my idea.  I’ll have to see what other ideas I can come up with to help humanity to become spacefaring, just in case I somehow become a billionaire and need some way to spend that money.

Short story – “Puppy Wuppy”

“Puppy Wuppy”

Jason ran into the kitchen and shouted, “This is it Sharon!  I’ve finally done it.”

Without looking up from her phone, Sharon asked, “What is it this time?”

“It’s a Human/Canine Translator.  Now dog owners will be able to have conversations with their dog.  We’ll make millions!”

Six months later

Sharon looked across the kitchen table at Jason and stated, “I want a divorce.”

Jason mumbled something in reply, barely lifting his head off the stack of legal documents. 

“‘We’ll make millions,’ you said,” she mocked.  “‘Every dog owner will want to have a conversation with their dog,’ you said.  ‘This is too big of a thing, if I took the time to do a full scale test one of the big tech companies would come in and steal my idea,’ you said.  Well maybe you should have let them steal the stupid idea.  Or better yet have done the full scale testing and discovered that half the dogs in America think their owners are idiots because they already talk to them like little babies.”

Her voice had steadily rose during her speech, but she paused for a moment to take a deep breath.  “You’re brilliant,” she said.  “You were able to imagine and then build a translator for people and dogs.  Yet you never took the time to think through how things work in the real world.  Yes, some dog owners bought the device to talk to their dog.  But then there were the paparazzi who bought them to get dirt on celebrities from their dogs.  Then police bought them because you don’t need a search warrant to talk to a dog about anything weird going on in a house.  And don’t get me started on the bestiality freaks.  And with countless people incensed at perceived invasions of privacy, the lawyers came out of the woodwork and they all figured out new and inventive ways to sue you.”

Sharon reached across the table and took Jason’s hand.  He didn’t lift his head.  “For eight years,” she said, “I’ve put up with your crazy schemes and inventions.  It took one of them to work for me to realize, I’ve had enough.”

***

I posted this years ago on a now defunct site.  I came across it while cleaning some folders and thought it needed to see the light of day again.  The idea came one time when I was trying to calm our old dog and wondered what he would have said if he could talk.  I realized how quickly any “puppy wuppy” stuff would become annoying.

Random Story – The teacher flipped us off

This is just an odd little story from my life.

Back in seventh or eighth grade, one day in – maybe history class – we had a substitute teacher.  To a seventh grader, she looked to be ninety, and she had a bit of a temper.  Older siblings had passed down the cruel nickname of Porkchop for her.  (I honestly can’t remember what her name was.)

Anyway, she’s teaching and she says something along the lines of there are five points to remember.  She raised her left hand with all her fingers held out.  With her right forefinger, she touched her pinky then folded it down while saying, “The first thing ….” We sat there and took notes.  For the second thing, she touched her ring finger and folded it, and we sat there taking notes.  But when it came time for the third thing, she touched her thumb.

So there she was, sitting in front of the class with her left hand held up with her fore and middle fingers up talking on about whatever.  And us students were all glancing at one another wondering which finger would she put down next.  And when she finally got the fourth thing, she touched her forefinger.

Now she’s in front of the class with her bony middle finger up to all of us, and we’re sitting there not believing it’s happening and trying not to laugh because we’d probably get sent to the office if we did.  And when the class ended like ten minutes later, we all rushed out and were laughing in the hall saying, “I can’t believe Porkchop flipped us off.”

At the time, I – and probably all of us – just figured she was old and didn’t know what she was doing.  But as an adult who knows some teachers, she probably just wanted to flip all of us asshole kids off.