Like my father, I'm not exactly what one would call emotionally demonstrative. Unless one counts being perpetually glib as an emotion.
So, I was surprised when tears began to well up while watching this. For a number of reasons, I suppose. Pride in what we've accomplished. Grief for what we've lost. For an instant, I was 9 years old again, and all that hope and wonder came rushing back. But only for an instant.
Then the memories of all that has happened since intruded. All of the imagination and vision that put us on the moon has somehow turned into pettiness and cruelty. Once we had leaders who imagined the world a better place. Now we have those who can't imagine anything more that their own immediate self-interest. We have others who believe this world is destined to be destroyed by some mythical deity, and are scrambling to get what they can from it before the end. They're blind to the inherent conflict between their supposed beliefs, and their actions.
It took a relatively short time for humanity to somehow become less human. To become a people who cheer the death of one of our own who can't afford to stay alive. People who consider compassion and empathy to be character flaws.
There is a difference between being pragmatic, and giving up.
I admit, my ignorance on a wide variety of subjects could fill volumes...or, actually, not. But I do know one thing with a certainty I've never felt before.
The past should never hold more hope than the future.