Where did we go wrong?

As you’ve probably heard by now, it looks like a team is poised to win 10 million bucks for getting their vehicle into space. And you probably realize what this means for our own Project Space Force.

We may have lost. We didn’t make it to the stars. The Fanatical Apathy Space Program may be over, despite all the work that I’ve done, that all of you have done. It’s a tragic, tragic day. It’s still possible, yes, but things don’t look good.

We came close, of course, and we’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, no, nothing. When I first heard the news, I almost couldn’t believe it. We lost? How could that be? We had logos before anybody else had even consulted a graphic designer! We had a stirring, inspirational theme song while the others were mucking about with silly textbooks and slide rules! We sold advertising space on our hull before we ever had a hull design! [Note to our Marketing Director and our Chief of Corporate Relations - Did we ever get a “hull design?” How was it? What’s a “hull?”]

Where did we go wrong? Simple: We didn’t. It’s not our fault. It’s their fault.

You know who they are. The naysayers, the blackballers, the rumor-mongers. In short, the media. When they described our efforts as “inept” and “a non-starter” and “seemingly lacking in even the most rudimentary knowledge of science or engineering, let alone space travel,” they put us at great risk of losing investors. We were forced to divert all the funds from our R&D and Applied Physics task forces into our Public Relations and Investor Communications offices. In hindsight, that might have slowed us down a little, but the media had forced our hand. If we hadn’t sponsored that fundraising Moonlight Reggae Booze Cruise for prospective investors, for instance, we’d never have had enough money to produce the pilot of the “Li’l Project Space Force” Saturday morning cartoon program.

Well, the cartoon, like our space program itself is now deeply endangered. I hope the media’s happy with itself. But to you, the faithful, hardworking staff who’ve got nothing to show for your efforts, nothing other than a few company cars and maybe a beach house or two, I say “Be proud!” We embarked on a noble quest, and if we don’t actually get to the stars, well, at least we had the drive to dream a dream and inspire a nation.

But also, do not give up. Sure, they’ve got a working spacefaring vehicle, but we’ve still got a thriving licensing department, a lot of great focus groups, and miles and miles of heart. Just this afternoon, I tasked our Director of Departmental Communications to revamp our email system and find out if we’ve got any documents about “the atmosphere” or “rockets” in the files, and if that information would look good on a coffee mug and resonate well with our target demographic. We’re moving forward. The stars may yet be ours.