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I painted this piece, The Venture, in response to the launch of the SpaceX Demo-2 mission on the 30th of May, 2020, five days after George Floyd was killed by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin.

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Mass protests of an intensity not seen in a long time broke out following his murder. The city's 3rd Precinct was abandoned by the police and was subsequently razed in response to the murder. The protests would continue on for a few weeks and spread around the world.
Of course, reactionaries stepped up to the plate immediately, not content with an institution that favours them being levelled with criticism. George Floyd has a criminal record, you see, and was probably doing a crime at the time too, that's why it was okay to murder him.
They would continue on to say that calls to abolish the police were "too radical", despite the police being a relatively new and provably unnecessary institution. They would defend the use of tear gas and 40mm riot bullets on civilians, unarmed or not.
Because, you see, what mattered was keeping the peace. They HAD to put down the protests, don't you understand? It's the only possible way.

The ends, dear Kavaeric, justified the means.
I would spend the next few days after the murder helping the protests both through donations and also helping more directly, namely listening in and transcribing city police scanners, with the hopes someone on the ground would be able to use that information to keep people safe.
The one that probably broke me was the Philadelphia scanner. I had a website up watching the protests from a helicopter video feed live, while simultaneously hearing the police talk about gassing and arresting protesters like they were points to be earned in a video game.
During the Philly scanner monitoring I thought to myself that I wouldn't be surprised if, in five years' time, a therapist concluded I had untreated trauma stemming from being a POC watching something like that happen live for hours.
It was May 30th, 2020, the crewed SpaceX Dragon Demo-2 launch was due. I actually completely forgot about the launch, on account of the protests, despite my timeline dishing out periodic reminders from both the Space.com and PopSci Twitters, which I both follow.
I was only reminded on account of some of my Twitter mutuals breaking off the protest news cycle to live-tweet about Demo-2. It seemed kind of perfect, really: exhausted with the scanners, I needed something to lift my spirits, and a space launch could do that without fail.
When I was in Grade 10, my art teacher, Mrs McMaster, assigned us a project that would haunt me when I painted The Venture. It was an exploration of various media, by creating a series of illustrations depicting and promoting awareness of a social issue of our choice.
Much to the bewilderment of my classmates and Mrs McMaster, I chose the lack of interest in space exploration and scientific endeavour as a pressing social issue we needed to solve.
I was told by one of my classmates something akin to "don't be stupid".
We had to pick a recurring symbol for our chosen issue, and I chose the Space Shuttle. How could I not, despite all faults, it was emblematic of modern space travel and human achievement. It was also decommissioned around the time of this class, with STS-135 concluding in 2011.
I did five in total, but my favourite was the one I did in fineliner.

It was of the Shuttle, its robotic arm outstretched, holding up the Earth as sunbeams radiated out from behind. Despite my classmates' ongoing criticism of subject matter, they commended me for my technique.
The other one I was a fan of was one I did with pastels. I loved the bright colours and the ease of blending them. In that one I depicted the Orbiter burning up on re-entry, in an allusion to STS-107, Space Shuttle Columbia's 28th and final mission.
During its launch in 2003, a piece of its bright orange external tank broke off and struck the ceramic tiles on the wing, exposing the airframe underneath. Upon re-entry, temperatures on the underside of the shuttle could soar to 2,000°C.
I found that the pastel medium lended itself to rendering the glowing orange and red plasma of re-entry in stunning colour, giving a soft glow that almost looked inviting had you not known of the extreme temperature and aerodynamics involved.
I used a black pastel for silhouette of the Shuttle, and also draw in some details of the panelling emerging from the plasma and shedding off into space.

Seven people died that day, as their Orbiter disintigrated in the upper atmosphere. A tragic incident, yet not the first.
17 years prior, OV-99 Challenger violently exploded shortly after liftoff. An O-ring seal from one of the Shuttle's twin solid fuel motors failed, leading to a chain reaction resulting in the death of all aboard.
Prior to the launch of Challenger, launch engineering warned the weather may be too cold for a safe launch. Indeed, the O-ring ended up failing as it was not engineered to withstand the cold weather of the launch day.
Despite these protests, NASA admin forced a launch anyway due to political pressure and a need to secure funding.

Because, you see, engineers, this is the only way - we HAVE to launch.

The ends justify the means.
It was later determined, during an investigation, that the crew did not die in the initial explosion, but rather on impact with the water at terminal velocity.
The reinforced crew compartment was propelled ahead of the blast, arcing upwards and peaking at an altitude of about 20km. The inside of the compartment would have felt weightless during the fall, shortly before it crashed into the Atlantic.
I'm not sure if I kept the ink and pastel drawings from the class - if I did, they'd be back in Hong Kong. The two drawings of the Space Shuttle are one of the few pieces I still feel proud of all these years later. I'll post them on here if I ever find them again.
There was another time in high school when we were being trained on Adobe software. The assignment was to find images online and assemble them into a collage describing what we thought made a hero, someone we could look up and aspire to.
A few of my classmates chose JK Rowling.

Sometimes I wonder if they ever came to terms with it. I'm hoping that now, in 2020, they could accept that they enjoy many elements of Harry Potter, while simultaneously confronting Rowling's troubling track record.
Coming to terms with the fact that something you like may have, and always had, less-than-noble intentions I feel is something we're doing more and more of today in a world where we have to be more aware of our environment than ever.

For the project, I chose Neil DeGrasse Tyson.
I think the file for that project was lost when I got rid of my school MacBook. Good riddance. I was a dumbass.
Despite this my interest in spaceflight technology wouldn't falter, if only done with the tone of childlike wonderment rather than anything resembling engineering. Less doing my maths homework and more pouring an embarassing number of hours into that pre-release version of KSP.
Kerbal Space Program 0.18, where you had some fuel tanks, some motors, some engines, a couple of cockpits, and maybe a few canards. The only planet to orbit was Kerbin, and there were hardly any tools to speak of. You couldn't even plan out nodes to schedule your burns.
Of course that never stopped us. The fact that there was a video game being made where you could put modern-day rockets into space free of the actual buerocracy was incredible enough. Lots of trial and error.
I would eventually go on to watch the Curiosity rover and its elaborate Rube Goldberg landing mechanism that is the Skyhook.

The clip of the JPL control room erupting in celebration upon hearing the rover made touchdown still tears me up to this day.

New Horizons was another cycle that I fondly remember, though it wasn't a singular held-your-breath moment like Curiousity, rather something that happened over the course of days, its profoundness of such a deep space mission slowly dawning upon you like a warm bath.
I remember thinking to myself on reaction of seeing that first photo of what we call now as Tombaugh Regio, "Pluto's heart", and thinking of how different it was from Mass Effect's rendering of Pluto from 2007, and going "wow, I am actually watching scientific history".
We'd later theorise that Tombaugh Regio was formed because of the possible existence of a subsurface liquid water sea - 7 billion km from the sun - warming and circulating the nitrogen ice, constantly repaving it into the smooth heart formation we saw in those photos.
I think my favourite photo of Pluto isn't actually that of the heart, but this one of the backside of the world as New Horizons zoomed past.

Despite everything, there was still a sea of liquid water and a blue sky to be found seven billion kilometres away.
It's May 30th, 2020, and all of the above - the class assignments, the Mars rovers, the ion engine spacecraft, Pluto's blue sky - would have made me excited to watch Demo-2.

Yet I felt nothing.
A friend of mine in text would tell me that my lack of excitement was echoed by him and that I wasn't alone.

I'm 22, I thought. After all the intense emotion and interest I had as a kid, is this how it ends? Is this what losing joy in something feels like?
I wrote a short thread venting about my feelings. I was hoping that would get it out of my system and maybe I could carry on, and get back to monitoring police scanners for BLM.

Then a friend of mine took me aside on Telegram.
They are a good friend of mine, or at least, I hope they see me as a friend too. They're also really into space, probably far more versed in the specifics and details of spaceflight missions and operations than I ever was (and maybe ever will be).
In their words, they told me that while they understood my lament, this SpaceX launch was still a net positive in their books, because "it's as good as we're getting for the time being."

You see, Kav, this is the only space project we have now. You just have to settle for it.
They meant well. But that sentence, "it's as good as we're getting for the time being", haunted me.
My mind immediately snapped to remembering that they were white.

Indeed, at that moment, I realised all the people livetweeting the Dragon launch, in the midst of the BLM protesters, were white.
I thought about how in those days of the protests, I was hyper-aware of every siren that drove by. Living in downtown Toronto, I heard at least one or two every day. What if I was next, I wondered? What will my family think if I made it into a newspaper headline the next morning?
Another follower contacted me and linked me to a poem by Gil Scott-Heron, entitled "Whitey on the Moon", written as a response to the Apollo missions.

A rat done bit my sister Nell,
Her face and arms began to swell,
and Whitey's on the Moon.

I can't pay no doctor bill,
Ten years from now I'll be paying still,
While Whitey's on the Moon.

I thought about Challenger.
Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo were done out of a fervent need to one-up the Enemy, to assert nationalist superiority, and once it was asserted it was retired, thrown out like a disposable camera.

But hey, we (they) landed on the Moon. Don't you see? The ends justified the means.
I thought about Chang'e and Shenzhou and of Yang Liwei, the first Chinese astronaut. I thought about how I don't recall any of those mutuals, livetweeting about the SpaceX Dragon launch, ever mentioning those successes.

Spaceflight is spaceflight, no? The ends justify the means.
I thought about promises made as proxies to other goals. The police used tear gas and shot at protesters, sure, but it was about keeping the peace. They had to.

They had to do it, no matter the cost. Don't you understand? The ends justified the means.
The police itself maybe had some bad apples, sure, but we can't abolish the police. We have to settle for it, don't you understand, you immigrant?

The ends justify the means. We have to. This is the best we can do.

It's as good as we're getting for the time being.
Your lofty leftist ideals are delusional, Kavaeric, you can't change anything. Capitalism isn't an ideology, it's just the ways things are. You can't change it. It's the best we can do.

You have to settle for it. The ends justify the means.
You see, capitalism is the sound strategy whereby if you pit people against each other in a mad competive scramble to be as greedy as possible, it'll create justice and peace and equality and freedom. Like, as a proxy. Incidentally. A side effect.

The ends justify the means.
Do you get it, Kavaeric? We just want spaceflight. We shouldn't care about how we get it. It doesn't matter how we do it. I don't care if it the profit motivations also obstruct telescopes or accelerates our approach to Kessler Syndrome.

The ends justify the means!
Yeah, it's bad that the figurehead of the spaceflight company is another white dude so immune of consequence he can call someone who rescued children trapped in an underwater cave a paedophile, but he funds spaceflight and that's what matters.

The ends justify the means.
It's the first crewed launch from American soil in NINE YEARS, Kavaeric. When they say "we must return to space", it doesn't matter who they're referring to when they say "we". It's spaceflight and that's what matters. We have to achieve it no matter what.
No matter who is funding spaceflight, whether it's a soulless for-profit corporation or a nationalistic country (unless it's China in which case that's bad), and no matter a history of bad intentions leading to bad outcomes, it's spaceflight and that's what matters.
I don't know why you painted that tiger so sad, Kavaeric.

It's capitalism. It's the police. It's spaceflight. It's as good as we're getting for the time being.

You must settle for it. There isn't anything better.

The ends justify the means.

Don't criticise. You're ruining the innocence.

The end justified the means.
(fin)
Looking back on this I realise I made a grave error, and I apologise. It's not "the ends justified the means".

It's "the ends will justify the means".
The ends will justify the means. Just stick it out, you'll see. Eventually. It'll be good. We told you, it's for all humankind.

The ends will eventually, one day, justify the means. Trust me. Give me yet another chance.
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