Moon.

I live underneath the Space Needle. I can see it out of the window over my bed as a type this. I'm a block away from the Key Arena in Seattle. Where Gary Payton used to abuse opposing point guards with a consistent tongue lashing and lightening quick hands. Both structures look imagined, almost Antoni Gaudi like futuristic vessels. The architecture is cheesy and sterile all at the same time. And white. That clean stormtrooper white that looks porceline and polished. Not in my wildest dreams have I thought the future would look like my neighborhood. The future I have always imagined is post-apocalyptic and eery. Part Blade Runner. Part Alien. Part 2001: Space Odyssey.

If you haven't seen the Duncan Jones film Moon yet, I strongly suggest you do.

The film is a bit of a mind bender, but it captures the same emotions of some of the greatest sci-fi literature and film. The feeling of desolation and lonliness that can only be achieved in the darkest depths of space. A dead communication link. A mission financed by a huge corporation. A protagonist that battles with his own personal antagonist. Where earth is the idyllic destination, devoid of the bullshit.

I think I might just pay $40 to eat brunch in that Space Needle. Mmm, space bacon.