Suppressing the cure
Chuck Norris doesn't want anyone to know his tears cure cancer. However, I'm guessing he has the purest of motives: he merely wants people to stop being such goddamn sissies.
It's too late, Mr. Norris: Pandora's box has been opened, the genie's bottle uncorked, Elmer Fudd is clutching Bugs Bunny's slinky red dress and blonde wig. If you wanted the truth to remain hidden away--even if it was for humanity's own good--you should have killed the leak with your bare hands when you had the chance.
I think you need to look at the big picture, Mr. Norris: you want the human race to toughen up and stop its whining, but have you thought of the great age of colonization you could trigger? A single vial of your precious tears could keep the passengers of a human colony ship alive for an indefinite period, until (even after millennia of zooming about at subluminal velocities) they found a suitable planet to inhabit--perhaps (empowered by your secretions) kicking the asses of any local inhabitants.
You could make that most classic of science fiction tropes--the galactic human empire--a reality. If you wanted.
So cry, Mr. Norris. Cry for humanity. If you're reading this, I want you to picture the most adorable kitten in the world, in a tree, hungry, cold and scared. There's a little girl with pigtails at the foot of the tree--it's her kitten, and she can't climb the tree to get it. The kitten piteously mewls. The little girl cries. And then kitten and girl are abruptly ended when a plane full of orphans crashes on top of them.
It's too late, Mr. Norris: Pandora's box has been opened, the genie's bottle uncorked, Elmer Fudd is clutching Bugs Bunny's slinky red dress and blonde wig. If you wanted the truth to remain hidden away--even if it was for humanity's own good--you should have killed the leak with your bare hands when you had the chance.
I think you need to look at the big picture, Mr. Norris: you want the human race to toughen up and stop its whining, but have you thought of the great age of colonization you could trigger? A single vial of your precious tears could keep the passengers of a human colony ship alive for an indefinite period, until (even after millennia of zooming about at subluminal velocities) they found a suitable planet to inhabit--perhaps (empowered by your secretions) kicking the asses of any local inhabitants.
You could make that most classic of science fiction tropes--the galactic human empire--a reality. If you wanted.
So cry, Mr. Norris. Cry for humanity. If you're reading this, I want you to picture the most adorable kitten in the world, in a tree, hungry, cold and scared. There's a little girl with pigtails at the foot of the tree--it's her kitten, and she can't climb the tree to get it. The kitten piteously mewls. The little girl cries. And then kitten and girl are abruptly ended when a plane full of orphans crashes on top of them.
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