Was the Apollo moon landing faked?

Paul Blay wrote:

If it's a case of 'who else would print it?' that wouldn't exactly be an
improvement.



"SpaceDaily.com" stated they were looking around for opinion
contributors a few weeks ago.
They are run by the French, and this would be a golden opportunity to
place a "Fifth Columnist" (hee-hee) into their midst.

Pat

On Fri, 14 Nov 2003 08:34:11 -0600, in a place far, far away, Pat
Flannery made the phosphor on my monitor glow in
such a way as to indicate that:

"SpaceDaily.com" stated they were looking around for opinion
contributors a few weeks ago.

Yes, lots of influential politicians read that. Not.

Sorry, but I've had discussions with Simon about Space Daily. He
lacks too much editorial judgement (I thought that his running that
incomprehensible piece by Charlie Vick a few months ago was a serious
disservice to both Charlie and Space Daily's readership) for me to
want to be published there.

--
simberg.interglobal.org * 310 372-7963 (CA) 307 739-1296 (Jackson Hole)
interglobal space lines * 307 733-1715 (Fax) http://www.interglobal.org

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Swap the first . and @ and throw out the ".trash" to email me.
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Pat Flannery wrote:


"SpaceDaily.com" stated they were looking around for opinion
contributors a few weeks ago.
They are run by the French, and this would be a golden opportunity to
place a "Fifth Columnist" (hee-hee) into their midst.

Pat

Whoops, they may use a French website, but they aren't French run; they
come out of the good ol' U.S.A.
and are owned by an Aussie...yes, an Aussie; but not by _That Other_
Aussie... but by a good, clean, courageous, and upstanding Aussie! The
kind of Aussie who makes you want to crack open a can of Foster's on a
warm Australian night- and as you sit under the Southern Cross, eating
barbecued five pound shrimp accompanied by the haunting sound of the
Aborigine's Didgeridoos, and he tells you about the time that the Salt
Water Crocodile ate him, and how he gnawed his way out of that foolish
croc inside of a minute, and then repaid it's impoliteness by eating it
whole; basted in the venom of his pet Death Adder, Matilda.
As you make a snappy rejoinder with your story of how you once stepped
on a tree toad by accident, the thrumming of the Didgeridoos suddenly
stops. With reflexes as finally honed as a Tasmanian Tiger, your host
instantly snaps awake, 25 inch Bowie knife in hand- eyes searching the
starlit horizon for anything that may be approaching in the night.
Then you realize that that ultimate showing of Australian hospitality is
about to begin... your host invites you to go barefoot scorpion stomping
with him.

Pat