NASA Woes and How to Fix Them

Man, NASA must be having a hard time lately. First, Battlestar Gallactica announces its final season. Second, they have some presidential-appointed staffer lying in official reports to back the party line. Next, WOTC produces a fourth edition of Dungeons and Dragons shortly after producing a third, forcing money out of the pockets of NASA's engineers (no doubt forcing many of them to take out second mortgages in order to be able to afford the fully re-vamped Dragonlance Cycle). Then they face the problem of having to recruit folks without any promise of being able to send them into space.

But, things seem to be turning around. I found the attached email during an all-night hacking session. Man, it's amazing the code you can crack when you're hopped up on Mountain Dew and Pixie Sticks.

Anyway, it looks like NASA has some new leadership, at least in their Human Resources department. Perhaps things are looking up.
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2-18-07
18:30 - Pacific

From: Herbert Grunion Melville III <homedawg@nasa.gov>
To: NASA Human Resources - listserv
Re: New Recruits

Yo!
Y'all be tellin' da' new recruits dat dey have a chance at going up in da' shuttle n'shit. Fools! I oughta' Charles Bronson upside all y'all bitch heads, muthafuckas!

Da' shuttle is gonna' be all put up n'moffballs n'shit come 2010, an' dis new bunch o'astro-NOT's ain't gon' be ready ta' fly till 2011! An' you bitches be all tellin' recruits dat' dey' gon' be flying in da' shuttle what ain't gon' be flyin' when da' training be finished? Workin' wit' yo' fools be HELL! I don' be wearin' glasses cause' I'm near-sighted, I be wearin' dem cause I be near-blinded-wit'-rage-sighted!

Yo' bes' know who ya' be fuckin' wit! I's not from some quiet neighborhood in some sweet little part o' New York, o' Los Angeles, o' Oakland o' some otha' nice place like dat'! I be from the mean streets o' Bedford, Massachewsits! Where I come from, life be cheap, an' da' croquet mallet dispense justice on yo' muthafuckin' head! Bes' yo' keep dat in mind nex' time y'all be tellin' lies to da recruits, n'case I hav' to bust a cap in you foo' ass!

Cause when da' recruits fin' out dey' not gon' be flying on no funky-fly supa'man space shuttle, who dey come whinin' to? H.G. "Mad-Dog" Melville da muthafuckin' third, that who!
If'n yo' gon' be a recruita' for da' GODAMN NASA, yo' bes' check yo'self fo' yo' wreck yo'self! It ain' 'bout da' free flights an' da' chicks all wantin' ta' freak yo' jock when dey hear you work for NASA, an' it ain't 'bout da' fly eats 'dat da' commisary all be cookin' up. Bein' a NASA recruiter be 'bout honor! If'n you can't 'member that, yo' might find yo'self suffocatin' under ma' pocket protecta' o' justice.

Word is life.

Peace out.

-HG MD