[ WP ] A mad scientist has successfully convinced the entire world that landing on the sun is possible if you go at night . NASA has appointed you to be the captain of the first trip to the sun

`` mission control to Icarus, testing comm systems, do you copy?'' 
 
 `` yes sir, loud and clear. do we have the green light?'' 
 
 `` t-minus 30 seconds to the green. you can proceed with launch initiatives and pre-req protocol... and uhh, oh, Josh, try not to forget your seat-belt this time'' 
 
 Uproarious laughter crackled through the radio and I could n't help but give a chuckle myself. After being selected for the program, during my first time in the lift-off simulator, or as we like to call it, the `` L.O.S'', my lack of a buckled seat-belt resulted in my face being smashed into the tempered quartz-glass window. Suffice to say, it was hard and after receiving an ice pack and picking up a tooth off the ground, we all had a good laugh. 
 
 Fastening my seat-belt and picking up a tape recorder, I hit `` play'' and put the recorder aside. 
 
 I suppose you might be wondering why NASA would let someone who ca n't remember their seat belt pilot the maiden voyage behind a space craft in a televised event that the world will be watching. Well, the truth is 
 
 1. It's not that hard to pilot the Icarus. You see, they took care of everything for me, its near autonomous. All I have to do is a few systems checks and to start up the `` Ick'' is almost like starting a car. 
 
 and 2. It's like that way for a reason. Easy like that. 
 
 In the department the decision to take on someone new for the job was controversial. But outside NASA, the media Ate.It.Up. The headlines raved about it. Instead of the next American Idol, people were looking to see who would be America's next top astronaut. The auditions themselves were held in sunny, Orlando, Florida. Not too far from Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral. Hundreds flocked but I guess it helped that I got there early. It was n't too far of a drive from my parent's spare bedroom in Daytona Beach. The networks loved interviewing me. A fuck up, or should i say `` reformed fuck-up''. Who does n't love an underdog, right? It's like I could hide it when my occupation would read across the screen `` unemployed'' every time I went on Good Morning America, fuck you good morning America. 
 
 But what set me apart from the competition is that I wanted it bad. Not that other people did n't, but what they were unprepared for is that I had been waiting for my 15 minutes for YEARS. I remember living out in L.A. and using the money I had to ask my parents for to pay rent. I remember eating cereal twice a day just to survive. All in the hopes that I would `` make it'' as a film maker. I did n't even need a career. I just needed SOMEthing. One piece, one big success and I could die happy, just to say I did it, that I really did it. I loved film so much, if I went my whole life without making one successful movie then I felt like I was a waste of a heartbeat. I would have starved for a big break. Not that I already was n't. I considered filming my decay for YouTube and uploading it. `` Man starves himself for 5 months'', I could see it on the front page now. 15 million views, getting asked to speak on local news TV... And I would do it too, oh I swear to God I would do it if only it did n't violate YouTube's terms of services. Otherwise like most things in my life then, it would be for nothing... I wonder why God would give me such a strong desire for film making but make me a fuck up. I used to tell myself the feeling was him right beside me! Telling me not to give up! But it's hard to believe that after driving 5 days on gas you ca n't afford to make it back to your parent's house because you ran out of money after 5 months in L.A even though you saved for a whole year working day and night as a waiter. 
 
 However, regardless of my past, this was my time to shine. The largest audience I ever had at a screening was 58. I counted. Now, this time around, the whole world would be watching. Mom and dad were so proud, my girlfriend Samantha was so proud. Everyone was happy that I finally found something to do with my life, like film was me trying to fit myself, a square, into a round hole per say. I might not have been good enough to get a real job, or `` make it'', but let me tell you, I'm not dumb. I was always a good student. Not a great student but a good one. In fact I was pretty good at maths and sciences, and that's what got me here. I was in shape, I could do the monkey-work of calculating this and that... and I knew how to suffer for something I wanted like no one else did. It also helped that I'm only 25 and I already have nothing left to lose. 
 
 So the reason they'd outsource and let a complete screw-up pilot a rocket? It's because they know they ca n't make it to the sun. It's complete phooey, total horse shit. But what they do need is someone to go out there and set up a beacon. Using the immense solar power near the sun, they've developed an invention that can harness the suns rays and transmit energy back to earth on the strongest cable of it's kind, pioneered and manufactured just for the mission. It'd be able to power almost 60 % of all of America's energy needs, slashing emissions. It's our last option if we want to save cities like Miami, and New Orleans. Hundreds would die, and millions would be displaced. The economy would tank. The public does n't even know how bad it is yet. Sending someone up to die would never work, they needed a cover. But that's between NASA, the white house and myself. To clear it all up for you, NASA did n't need an astronaut... they needed a martyr. 
 
 All I have to do is push the machinery out once we get to the drop zone, which is easy enough to do in zero gravity. When the other astronauts learned all this, they dropped out. But me? No way. As far as the world is concerned, I'm an undeserving genius who was just dealt a bad hand, and is a symbol of redemption to not only the American public, but the world. `` Look how he was down and out, and see how he turned his life around!'' they'd say. 
 
 So essentially, this will be my debut, domestic, international, and final release. I always wanted to see my name in the credits but I suppose the news headlines and obituaries will have to do. 
 
 I've long decided If I ca n't make the story, then I'll be the story. To my mother, and father and all my family, I love you. Tell your grand kids that I was someone. That I was n't just a screw up, but I did something about it and all I've ever wanted to do was do something about it. I'm sorry this was the only way I could be someone, but to me, it's better to be someone at 25 than live to 90 and never be anybody at all. Call me vain but this is how I want to spend the life that's been given to me, this is what I want I want to dedicate myself to. I only pray that you can take solace in the good that comes out of this. I Love you. 
 
 *click* 
 
 6... 5... 4... 3 
 
 I toss the recorder out the air vent, I know command will surely see it but it's too late to stop the engines now. I grab my cyanide pills from a plastic vacuum sealed baggie. To be taken after the DZ but long before I cross the incineration threshold. I hear HQ on the radio asking me about the unidentified object I just ejected from the cabin. I do n't respond. 
 
 2... 1... 
 
 Lift Off 
 
 

