The Russians sent tortoises into space in 1968. You couldn’t make it up. All I remember from the time is being bitterly frustrated when no one came back from low earth orbit as a walking cactus & had to be incinerated after they infested the Houses of Parliament. Life is a continual disappointment for the 1950s science fiction reader. For instance, I already knew the future had let me down by the time this WW2 bomber wasn’t found on the Moon.
why I don’t return the future’s calls
Filed under science fiction
Is that a Liberator?
It’s the unrestored Halifax at Hendon. Found at the bottom of a lake in Norway?
Ballard was right…dead astronauts, derelict airplanes, and memories of the space age.
It’s beautiful. The dark economy of things designed for violence.
But the London double-decker bus is still there. It’s been moved to the dark side.
Reminds me of The Lady be Good. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Be_Good_%28aircraft%29