It all seems like a waste. Here I keep thinking of mankind's next great adventure to the stars, about destiny, and about humanity's infancy in the cosmos, and today we wake up to almost 40 dead and hundreds injured in London, for what? For what?

So how do we fix it? We would rather fight each other, no matter how much of my science fiction says we will eventually work together. I want to fall into one of these wormholes, these Einstein-Rosen Bridges that could enable interstellar travel. And then I saw a program last night on the National Geographic Channel that pretty much tells of the impossibility of ever even communicating with extraterrestrials, even if we heard them.

Sigh.