I increasingly wonder why Elon Musk is bothering trying to establish himself on Mars, and not just because it looks like a complete dump up there. (Seriously, if you think that’s beautiful, I have around a hundred thousand disused quarries I’d love to show you right here on Earth.) Watching Hurricane Milton play out on Musk’s platform and elsewhere cemented the notion that the goal of being on another planet along with millions of people had already occurred. The only problem is that this whole other planet is here, sharing meatspace with what we used to call “reality”.
Once upon a time, relatively recently in the scheme of things, a looming natural disaster would have felt like a fairly ineluctable fact. You couldn’t “debate” a natural disaster any more than you could disagree with gravity. There is a point, we used to say, where you really can’t argue with reality. There is a point where shit gets real. But is there, any more? Certainly that point has receded much further over a still-darkening horizon than we might even have imagined back in, say, 2016, when people were warning of attempts to destroy the very notion of shared reality. In fact, it was already receding back in 2004, when a Bush administration official (widely believed to be Karl Rove) spoke disparagingly of what they called “the reality-based community”.
