Will somebody please finance a trip for me to Antarctica? I've been wanting to go there for years, but my interest has recently been rekindled after reading "At the Mountains of Madness," a campy yet engrossing H.P. Lovecraft story set at the astral pole. Basically, some scientists conducting research in Antarctica run across relics of an ancient civilization. Some of them get munched on by primordial baddies, and one of them is driven out of his mind by the horror of it all. The horror! It's awesome. And it makes me want to visit Antarctica more than ever.
From the time I was a child, I have loved reading stories of Admiral Byrd, of Roald Amundsen and Robert Falcon Scott—stories that evoke the mystery and heroism of exploration (when people still had curiosity enough to explore). Some of these adventurers succeeded, and others fell prey to the alien and unpredictable terrain. In truth, one element of these tales that fascinates me is the idea of living on the very periphery of what is known, of surviving in a place of such extremes that a single degree Celsius can mark the difference between life and death. Even more compelling to me is the fact that so much of Antarctica is uncharted and unknown to human eyes. It's a place where you could forget you live in a "civilized" society, where you could imagine millenia passing in weird, cold silence. Where you could maybe get ambushed by horrific slime creatures in the night. (Wait, that was the Lovecraft story again.)
I hope you're all giving my sponsorship some serious thought.
Sure, I have kind of a problem with the cold. When the mercury drops below thirty degrees, I start crying tiny ice cubes like that penguin in the Bugs Bunny cartoons. But I'm willing to endure a little personal discomfort for a greater purpose. Besides, I know they have quite a development down there at McMurdo. They have a water purification plant, a waste disposal system, telephone lines—all the amenities of a thriving community. I don't think they have a movie theater yet, but if they did, I'd totally peddle popcorn for a chance to hang out with the seals. Maybe some scientific agency needs a good technical writer who's willing to relocate. Those scientists certainly know their material. But their writing? Not so hot. Or here's another thought. Maybe Rolling Stone would pay my way to do some gonzo journalism. Oh, that's right. Rolling Stone doesn't have articles anymore, only pictures of attractive pop stars and couture ads that ironically feature mostly naked people.
The price for a weeklong cruise to Antarctica is about 4 grand. And that's the cheap package, the one where they give you a raft, a paddle, and an insulated parka. The ones that involve an actual boat are so far out of my price range it's not even funny. So if anyone would like to foot the bill for such a trip, I'd be forever in your debt. Literally. Until then, I'll be here. Waiting patiently. Checking the live webcam on an hourly basis.