That's an 881-pound tuna that was caught recently by New Bedford, MA fisherman Carlos Rafael...with a net, which apparently is a no-no for catching large sea leviathans, according to Federal fishery enforcement agents. (The article that this picture appeared in didn't mention what agency of the Federal government "fishery enforcement agents" work for, but I'm thinking FBI or the CIA as most likely. "Fishery enforcement agents" sounds way too sinister for the Interior Department.)
Since tuna and, I imagine, other common sea creatures such as whales, sharks, squid, dolphins, Komodo dragons, sea lions, sea porcupines and Newt Gingrich, cannot be caught with a net, but rather a fisherperson must use "handgear", such as rods and reels or a harpoon, (shiver me timbers and Herman Melville), this catch was illegal and was seized by "Federal fishery enforcement agents" from Mr. Rafael.
Two things occur to me here: a) that must have been a hell of a big tin can that monstrous son-of-a-bitch came out of and b) the only "handgear" suitable for hauling something that large out of the ocean would be an AK-47. Or a synthesized, gamma ray-generating 56mm harmonizing laser cannon.
The AP article went on to say that the recent sale of a 754-pound tuna brought in $396,000 for the seller, so once again, we have an instance where our government, in the form of "Federal fishery enforcement agents", sticks it to a citizen.
Hey, fishery agent dudes, unless your "handgear" is the size of a telephone pole, it's not likely many almost 900-pound tuna fish are going to be caught. I mean, we're not talking blue whales or bottle-nose dolphins here, it's a tuna. (A big effing tuna.) The guy had a "tuna permit", gimme' a break, so he used a net, what was he supposed to do, arm-wrestle the damn thing into his boat?
Geez.
No, your Pope Guy here at the All John All The Time World Church had another topic in mind for today; I originally thought I would give all of you loyal followers of the AJATTWC the benefit of my wisdom regarding the proper way to clean a septic tank, but as Harley and I (you guys remember Harley, don't you? That's his pic to your right there, the one with the shit-eating grin on his face) were discussing the details of the essay here in my office, in runs the newest member of my staff, the Assistant Official Canine Of The Pope, Tucker Dog, tongue out, ears flopping and tail going 240.
"Whoa there, big guy, slow down," I said, as TD did a few laps around my desk in his excitement. As you can obviously see from his picture over there under the Harley Dog's, Tucker is still rather young and, as most puppies are, full of piss and vinegar. (And a shitload of Science Diet Puppy Food; Tuck hit 30 pounds before he was three months old.)
Harley looked on with disdain at the complete lack of decorum being shown by his new assistant, and said nothing, his displeasure obvious on his face.
The new AOCOTP here at the AJATTWC had this week's edition of Time magazine in his mouth, and when he finally stopped running, he sat down, scratched behind his left ear for a moment, and then dropped it on my desk, dog slobber and all.
"What?" I said. (As the English would say, ripping comeback, what?)
Tucker pawed the magazine open to a double-page showing an artist's rendition of a star-filled outer space scene, with a detailed drawing of a satellite in the upper right hand corner. The headline for the article read "Infinity And Beyond", and went on to tell the story of the Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 spacecraft, both of which were launched from Cape Kennedy in 1977. And they're still going today.
What an amazing story.
(Remember the original Star Trek movie, Star Trek: The Motion Picture? Where "V'Ger" was a "mysterious and immensely powerful alien cloud", per the article on WikiPedia, and threatened Earth with destruction? And it turns out that "V'Ger" was merely one of the Voyager spacecraft, come home after acquiring vast powers during it's journey through the cosmos, to wreak havoc on it's makers? My grandsons better hope that doesn't happen in the future in real life; William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy are getting WAY too old and fat to come to the rescue of our sorry planet over and over again like they used to do.)
V1 is now, as of November 2011, right around 11 BILLION miles away from Earth, with V2 right on it's heels at slightly over 9 BILLION miles away. Radio communications with V1 now take 13.5 hours to reach the spacecraft, with a corresponding wait for an answer. The two satellites are still trucking along, apparently still working almost flawlessly, which is a stunning tribute to the design and construction of the vehicles by the all the hard-working, amazingly brilliant scientists and engineers at NASA.
I know NASA has fallen on hard times of late, but say what you want, what a record of accomplishment those people have. And don't think for a second that their work has had no effect on or dividends for all of us. Modern computers, as we know them today, are just one example of the benefit to Americans, and indeed all mankind, that we have realized because of our space program.
I won't give you all the story highlights, or the blow-by-blow account of the travels of two craft; check out the story online for all that.
Now I don't know about you guys, but I find all matters space-related to be fascinating. One of my most fond desires in life is to someday fly in outer space; of course, I realize the unlikelihood of this ever happening, but I can dream.
I was enthralled, as a kid, by the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo space programs, and can still remember sitting in front of my older sister's TV in her Santa Monica apartment on July 20th, 1969, completely in awe, when Neil Armstrong hopped down from the ladder on the Lunar Excursion Module, and man first set foot on the surface of the moon. (True story; I am getting goose-bumps, literally, as I sit here writing this.)
V1 is now approaching the outer limits of our solar system, which is estimated by scientists to be about 12 BILLION miles from Earth.
Let me say that again: V1 is now approaching the outer limits of our solar system, which is estimated by scientists to be about 12 BILLION miles from Earth. Mankind is poised "to boldly go where no man has gone before", and that absolutely knocks me out.
Wow. Big time wow.
We haven't had an opportunity yet, Harley and I, to take Tucker out on the Royal Unionship Kidding, my atomic powered rocket ship, which we affectionately refer to as the RU Kidding, or just "the Kidding" for short; I can only imagine what that will be like for him his first time. We've been all over the galaxy, to planets near and far, spreading the "soothing balm of Johnism" to other races and peoples, but we've never even been close to the outer edge of the solar system. Who knows what awaits the Voyagers as they pass this milestone in space.
What wonders will they pass, what miracles of God's creation will they see?
We've been to the Moon, we're on our way to Mars again as we speak (if you missed it, NASA launched a rocket with the Mars explorer "Curiosity" on-board just last week), and now, as a race of beings, are poised on the edge of "the final frontier".
It seems so sad to consider what a lousy job we do of running our planet, even as we're on the cusp of one of the most remarkable achievements in the history of our race. But I won't proselytize; I'm too excited about the Voyagers to start complaining about what a bunch of dumbshits people can be, and how, when we listen and bring to bear the best parts of ourselves, what we can accomplish.
Man's reach should always exceed his grasp, and we're reaching for the stars.
I wonder if the planet Hyperion has any 900-pound tuna fish living in its oceans? Talk about strange creatures from alien civilizations.
And there's my ex-, creeping into the conversation, once again.
I thanked Tucker for bringing the article in Time to my attention, and then he and Harley headed for the kitchen; the outer reach of their solar system is the cupboard where I keep the Thin Mints cookies.
Love and space stations,
PJTT
copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.
