I have linked a retarded amount of stuff from The Space Review. They're one of the newsletters I look forward to the most. I've even subscribe to SeeSat-L a couple times, only to acknowledge that (A) these guys are speaking "astronomy" to my ears the way a kindergardner and his counting blocks hears differential calculus (B) with a Dobsonian at sea level in Puget Sound I'm tens of thousands of dollars away from even being able to play along.

The first script ever commissioned from me was supposed to be about space aliens that feast on our tumors and live on our satellites and that's why we have to die. If it weren't for those nasty critters in orbit we'd be immortal! After I thought about how rudely I could point out that the ISS is a naked-eye object and that you can't simultaneously look at Google Earth imagery and pretend we can't see just as clearly in the opposite direction, I got figurative on it, made enough to buy my wife a wedding ring, ended up repped at William Morris and now, fuckin' 8 years later, I've got this damn novel. So the instinct has done me well. And I get a kick out of elaborating on the facts.

You might enjoy the article I linked below to mk in which the NRO effectively designates Toronto to be a hostile site because of Ted Molczan.