As you've probably heard, the Mars Polar Lander seems to have been
lost forever.  All signs were positive before controllers sent it
hurtling toward the Martian surface.  For cost-cutting reasons, there
was no telemetry from the probe as it entered the Martian atmosphere.
It was supposed to make contact with Earth once it had landed safely,
as were its two auxilliary probes.  But since the descent began, we
Earthlings have heard nothing but silence, and NASA has just about
given up hope not only of the probe's suddenly working, but indeed of
ever figuring out what went wrong with it in the first place.

Now I don't know about you, but I have a powerful mental image in my
mind's eye of the meeting at which they decided not to have descent
telemetry.  I see a roomful of managers and scientists, and a lone
engineer.  The managers are reciting "better, cheaper, faster" like
zombies; the emphasis, however, is clearly on "cheaper".  Each
scientist, waving an arcane piece of hardware, is reciting "maximal
scientific value"; collectively, the scientists seem like some
strange, lab-coated cult.  The lone engineer is trying to explain that
the biggest experiment of all is just landing the damned thing in one
piece; she can be heard three offices in every direction screaming
"Leaving out descent telemetry the stupidest possible cost-cutting
measure you could adopt!"

Of course, you know how that image ends.

But I have another image: I can see that engineer today.  She walks
the halls of NASA JPL with head held high.  She has only to look at a
passing manager or scientist to make them cringe, crying out "Don't
say it!  Please, just don't say it!"  

She doesn't need to say it.  It hovers around her like a mist, above
her head like a halo.  It gives her a certain sanctity, but it also
makes her a pariah.  It is the age-old mantra of the engineer unheeded
until after the disaster:

"I told you so.  But would you listen to me?  Noooooooooo."

Today at GSB we celebrate this lone Engineer.  We will have a moment
of silence to mourn the battle she lost at NASA.  And we will chant
the Engineer's Mantra in celebration of her newfound moral high
ground, in the hopes that our chanting will raise her spirit and her
title until she is put in charge of the next probe.  And, of course,
we will have a great deal of raucus talk to celebrate all her many
victories, both past and yet to come.  Come, join us as we celebrate
all of the lone Engineers, those unsung heros who in many forms have
fought the good fight so many, many times, at this week's

**************** G I R L  S C O U T  B E N E F I T ****************
****************    5:30pm,  7th floor playroom    ****************