The elliptical orbits of Earth and Mars share a close encounter that reoccurs every seven hundred eighty days. Earth rotates faster around their mutual star putting in more than two laps for each made by Mars. This encounter moves in and out depending on where the bodies are with respect to each other, and astronomers say they won't be any closer for another four such passes (eight years and as many months or so). An excellent diagram of these giant spirograph trails scrawled over millions of kilometers in space can be found here.

Though it looks like this column missed the last one (which would have been when? Some time late October 05?), their prior encounter two years before was duly noted, the closest approach the planets had shared in tens of thousands of years (and will for almost another three hundred). At that time sky offered a symbol for encouragement that meaningless war recede along with its mythological patron. In a lot of ways that has not happened, and the reins of the "free" world remain clenched in evil, bloodthirsty hands. And yet I am encouraged. Another opposition to Mars occurs on the surface of Earth itself, as a growing number of our species reject the use of force or fraud for selfish gain.

Crawling out from a well of savagery and ignorance isn't easy but really is the only logical (and by that I mean sustainable) choice. As power shifts along economic tectonics it doesn't look to be pretty but does look at last in motion, as the value of empire deteriorates almost directly before our eyes. "Wars not make one great," comes big wisdom from a small source, and history seems already nodding in agreement by condemning those who sought to force-fit the world into their Procrustean codpiece. And this motion comes none too soon as a weary world rejoices anticipating such a condign verdict.

I've been to Mars. I've flown to there, landed there, and enjoyed the delicate, beautiful sunrise there. At constant one-G thrust the journey can be made in less than a weekend. But each time after a visit that last part of the trip, "from there," received a warm welcome as the lifeless, bone-chilling desolation (even more than our crater-blasted natural satellite) falls behind in the distance in the return to life and the green luxurious growth of home. There simply is no comparison, and if you think otherwise there's something wrong with you. The way is peace, just like the skies proclaim.