hen astronaut Neil Armstrong took one small step onto the lunar surface in 1969, humanity's hopes for further adventures on the moon were decidedly high. Since that time the focus of the U.S. space program has changed, resulting in innovative but not necessarily inspiring projects like the reusable shuttle, automated probes and the impending multinational space station. The Artemis Society, a non-profit organization administered by The Lunar Resources Company, hopes to rekindle interest in the exploration and exploitation of Earth's sole satellite. They also hope to establish a permanent, self-supporting lunar community in the not-too-distant future.
The initial page of the vast Artemis Web site beckons visitors to join members of the group on a journey to the moon. Folks are invited to learn about The Artemis Project through a self-guided tour, which includes overviews of immediate and long-term benefits, costs and opportunities. Each of these elements is addressed as part of the Artemis Data Book, a text-based blueprint that outlines every conceivable component of the Artemis plan.
In addition to technical specifications, the site also provides information on becoming a member of the association, the origin of the Artemis appellation and the economic potential of lunar commerce. Links to related Internet locations are furnished at appropriate points, and there is a short list of frequently asked questions, as well as an internal search engine to guide guests to specific subject areas. The site also sells Artemis merchandise via a link to another arm of the parent firm dubbed Lunar Traders, although on a recent visit their catalog was being updated and no goods were available.
A tedious trip to the Moon
For a concept that is supposed to fire the imagination and prompt public support, this presentation is remarkably pedantic. The Artemis team has clearly thought through every aspect of the venture, but the text regrettably reads more like an arid how-to manual than a dynamic discourse.
Although there are a few sketchy summary passages, the meat of the site is the Artemis Data Book, a gargantuan work that is essentially a dizzying and dreary morass of sections, sub-sections and sub-sub-sections. The attention to detail in the document, which devotes pages to such items as Spacecraft Video Equipment and a Luna City Hotel, is indicative of both the seriousness and the meticulousness of this group. Unfortunately it is also overwhelming to casual visitors. There are a few elements that offer some spark, such as science fiction writer Gregory Bennett's "Your Vacation on the Moon" chronicle and his JavaScript-powered 3-D "A Walk Around the Moon Base," but much of the manuscript is overly academic and downright boring.
Such thorough research is undoubtedly necessary for the success of the mission, and the businesslike nature of the proposition clearly shows that truly dedicated individuals are involved in the scheme. Nevertheless, their Web site fails to seriously stimulate the imagination. Hard science fiction enthusiasts, individuals researching cislunar flight and financiers seeking to invest significant amounts of money in this venture might find this site of some interest, but fans seeking an enlightening combination of reverie and rocketry will be sorely disappointed.
