In case you hadn't heard, the aerospace company SpaceX is poised to launch a private resupply ship to the International Space Station. Their rocket is called the Falcon 9 (yes, after the Millennium Falcon) and the space capsule it carries is named Dragon. If all goes according to plan, Dragon will dock with the space station, drop off supplies, pick up some old equipment, then reenter the atmosphere and splash down in the Pacific Ocean. That's a pretty tall order, considering that only the United States, Russia and China have so far succeeded in launching a spacecraft into orbit and then bringing it back.

        Which makes this mission pretty cool. Not just because it's a Giant Leap for private enterprise, but because it gives me the perfect excuse to offer the following bizarro list.

Three Cancelled U.S. Space Missions That Sound About As Plausible As the Plot of Armageddon

        Both Hollywood and NASA love big-budget outer space spectacles. But when one of Tinseltown's laughably farfetched, poorly constructed star vehicles goes down in flames, the only thing it kills is careers. Which is definitely not the case for actual rocket launches. That's why we should all be happy (astronauts and test pilots particularly so) that the following all-too-real space mission concepts died on the drawing boards -- without taking anyone with them. 

1. Voyage to Venus Inside a Fuel Tank!

Possible Tagline:

In space no one can hear you die a slow, agonizing death from long-term radiation exposure. Hey, does it smell like diesel in here?

The Concept:

        After the Apollo program landed astronauts on the Moon, NASA looked for new uses for its snazzy lunar hardware. One of the wackier (and by "wackier" we mean "poorly thought-out") schemes was to send a three-person crew on a one-year Venus "fly-around." Fly-around means that the crew wouldn't land. They'd just look out the windows, shout "U-S-A!" a couple of times, then head home.

Sorry we can't hang around ...

   The Apollo command module lacked the knee room and luggage space for such a long trip, but planners developed a novel (and by "novel" we mean "poorly thought-out") workaround. Bear with us here. A gigantic Saturn V rocket would launch the mission on its way to Venus, but its upper stage would remain attached to the command module. Once this school bus-sized gas tank burned up all its fuel, the crew would move in. And live there. In the fuel tank. For a year. In the fuel tank.

        The inmates of this enormous spaceship/tomb would face the danger of lethal cosmic rays and solar radiation, all for the glory of going to Venus and then not landing. Which is like driving all the way to Disneyland, then turning around in the parking lot and going home. Only that would be a lot less dangerous, because you wouldn't have to go home inside the fuel tank.

What happened?

        After the Apollo program no one (particularly president Richard Nixon, who loathed the Kennedy-inspired moon shots) wanted to cut massive checks for more space adventures. Oh, and there was also the fuel tank thing-y. No one was wild about that.

2. Manned Orbital Laboratory

Possible Tagline:

That's no moon. It's a space station! An expensive, unnecessary space station!

The Concept:

        Back in the 1960s the U.S. Air Force worried that newfangled spy satellites couldn't be trusted to keep tabs on the Russians. What could? Maybe a couple of flyboys stuck on a cramped military space station for weeks on end, sucking their meals out of tubes, pooping in plastic bags and gazing down at the Soviet Union through telescopes. Thus was born the Manned Orbital Laboratory (or MOL) program. The name sounds badass, but the brass screwed it up by going with a bargain basement design. Instead of commissioning a spinning, roulette wheel-shaped masterpiece of mid-century kitsch, their orbital battle station would have been a cramped hovel consisting of a two-person Gemini spacecraft latched onto the specially outfitted upper stage of a missile. The crew would enter this trailer park in the sky through a hole in the Gemini's heat shield.

Not exactly 2001: A Space Oddysey.

What happened?

        Before the first MOL could be launched it had already become obvious that spy satellites worked great, and that the services of actual human spies weren't required. Also, someone probably pointed out that pretty much the last thing you want to do to a spacecraft's heat shield is cut a hole in it.

3. Launch the X-15 into Orbit

The Concept:

        The high-flying, pitch black, knife-shaped X-15 rocket plane was the most awesome experimental aircraft of all time: insanely powerful, futuristic-looking and capable of killing a careless pilot in dozens of highly creative ways.

Hottest. Ride. Ever.

        Incredibly, the Air Force decided this sleek widow maker wasn't hardcore enough, and considered building a souped-up X-15B that could actually reach orbit. But getting home would have been the real pisser. The pilot was supposed to guide his ship through a flaming reentry and then -- in a move that makes us wonder if the "B" in X-15B stood for "balls" -- eject and descend the rest of the way via parachute while his riderless ride crashed into the Gulf of Mexico. Which would have been AWESOME.

What happened?

Even the Air Force, never famous for its fiscal restraint, couldn't stomach the X-15B's projected $120 million-per-shot price tag. That's pretty steep for a program with few clear objectives, beyond making Evel Knievel look like a wuss.

I recently introduced my 5-year-old son to Godzilla movies, which was a revelation for both of us. For him it was love at first sight, because they're packed with giant monsters, tanks, fighter planes and wanton destruction. Or at least he thinks they are. I always fast-forward through the boring buildup and jump to the last half hour, when Godzilla finally throws down with Rodan or Mothra or Gonorrhea or whatever rubber-suited freak Toho Studios tossed in the ring with him.

           I have to say that these movies are far less entertaining than I remember. And it's not just because I'm old now and my standards are higher. I am old, but my standards are as low as ever. The problem -- as I discovered when I forced myself to watch Godzilla Raids Again without fast forwarding -- is that for every minute of two-fisted dino action, there's maybe 10 minutes of meetings. No kidding. There's usually a brief (crazy brief) opening action sequence, after which the human characters gather around conference tables, trying to decide how they'll confront Godzilla for the umpteenth time. Books are brought out and consulted. Geriatric scientists with crazy hair hold forth. Instructional films are shown. Coffee is sent for. It's about as exciting as CSPAN3.

The typical G'zilla movie contains a little bit 

of this ... 

... and a whole big bunch of this.

          Maybe it's a cultural thing. I know Japan is big on slow, careful consensus-building, but watching this process in action makes terrible cinema. Plus, when a gigantic monster is trampling Tokyo, who's got the time? And since this sort of thing happens constantly in Godzilla Land, wouldn't a plan already be in place? Something to the effect of: Step One: Point all tanks, missile launchers, fighter planes, bombers and naval units at target. Step Two: Fire. Step Three: Repeat as necessary, or until all forces are melted into a heap of white-hot slag by target's atomic breath.

          Most of the Godzilla films my son enjoys are from the '50s and '60s. I know there's stuff from the '80s and '90s and even the 21st century, but I can't bear to look at it. Especially the most recent films. I'm afraid someone will break out a laptop and give a PowerPoint presentation. 

 Ed Wenck and my co-author on several projects, Lou Harry, recently teamed up to produce Know Your Zombies, a compendium of facts, puzzles and trivia relating to fairy princesses. Just kidding. It's all about the living dead, and how they morphed from horror movie also-rans into unstoppable print and cinema icons. The book includes an excellent compendium of well-known and lesser-known zed-intensive films, from Dance of the Dead (which is on Thriller roughly six times a week) to Return of the Living Dead, which is the funniest zombie movie ever made that doesn't have Bruce Campbell in the cast or the word "Shaun" in its title.

I thought I'd use the premier of the new Three Stooges movie to plug my own contribution to their legacy -- The Three Stooges Career Guide: Advice for Climbing the Ladder (Running Press). Ever wonder how Larry, Moe and Curly would  have handled today's dog-eat-dog corporate world? I guess we'll never know, because they've all been dead for quite some time. However this book offers a humorous look at how they might have dealt with everything from casual Fridays to battles for pay raises. It's not exactly a fount of business wisdom, but it is pretty funny. And there are lots of pictures. Just the way Curly would have wanted it.

My Night of the Living Trekkies co-author Kevin David Anderson recently photoshopped the following notional 2012 campaign poster:

This is the kind of team that could make America great (or at least pretty good) again. Apparently George (Sulu) Takei thinks the same. He recently posted it on his mega-popular Facebook page, where it's been viewed roughly seven gazillion times. Or something like that.You can see it in its natural setting at: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150599124596646&set=o.205344452828349&type=1&theater

It's April, and everyone wants to get outside and enjoy the weather. If you're human, that is. If you're an animal, chances are you've just finished migrating or hibernating or doing whatever grueling, boring thing your species does to cope with the cold months. Which means you're probably cranky, tired, hungry -- and ready to take it out on the first unsuspecting biped that blunders into your territory.

Think it can't happen to you? Then consider the following ...

Seven Golf Course Animal Attacks

1. During the late 1990s and early 2000s dozens of golfers were harassed and/or injured by an overprotective red-tailed hawk that nested near the Village Greens Golf Course in Woodridge, Illinois. Attacks, not surprisingly, were most frequent and ferocious during the spring nesting season.

2. Groundskeeper George Petta was working near the 17th hole of the Crystal Springs Resort golf course in New Jersey when he suddenly realized he'd been joined on the links by a large black bear, which cuffed him across the face and then wandered off. Remarkably Petta not only survived the 2006 encounter, he went back to work the same day. "Don't go looking for your ball in the woods if you don't have to," the club superintendent advised members.

 3. Plenty of golfers have regular run-ins with geese, but none quite as spectacular as that of Swedish pro Joakim Haeggman. While holding a one-shot lead at Spain's Andalucia Open in 2007, he was set upon by an irate goose at the 18th hole (his ninth). "The goose came over to me and at first I laughed about it," he said, post-brawl. "But when I put my head down it wanted to have a go at it and I had to give it a slap across the face, I had no choice." Haeggmann, understandably rattled, lost the tournament.

4. In October of 2009 a 77-year-old man lost an arm to an alligator at South Carolina's Ocean Creek Golf Course. The 10-foot saurian lunged out of a nearby pond when the unlucky duffer leaned down at the 11th hole to pick up his ball. His golf partners fought it off and called 911. A similar encounter happened in 2007 at the Lake Venice Golf Club in Venice, Florida, when the unfortunately named Bruce Burger was set upon by an 11-foot gator as he tried to retrieve his ball from a pond boasting a very conspicuous "Beware of Alligator" sign. Burger survived, and managed to keep all of his appendages.

5. In May of 2011 a thief wearing a black mask terrorized the Sandridge Golf Club in Vero Beach, Florida, stealing purses and other valuables from golfers. An investigation by groundskeepers revealed the crook to be a kleptomaniac raccoon. Two purses, some golf balls and empty food containers were discovered in its den.

6. Golfer David Bailey was playing a round at Ireland's Craddoskstown Golf Club in County Kildare when a rat ran up his trouser leg and peed on him. The rodent's urine was infected with deadly Weil's disease, which killed Bailey a few weeks later.

7. A woman named Annetjie Mienie was shooting home movies at South Africa's legendary Skukuza Golf Course when a female hippo residing in an on-course pond lunged out of the water and killed her. The hippo, nicknamed Mercy by the course staff, was allowed to live.

... Plus One Stuffed Animal Attack

            In May of 2011 someone spotted what looked like a large tiger crouching near the Country Golf Club in Hampshire, England. A capture team from the local zoo was quickly dispatched, along with a police helicopter. However, when the chopper's downdraft knocked the "cat" over, it was soon realized that the fierce jungle predator was, in fact, a large stuffed toy.

And if you think the furry little killing machines won't follow you indoors then I respectfully submit the following:

When Animals Attack Wal-Mart Shoppers

            A Louisiana woman named Rebecca White sued the retailer after encountering a large South American rodent called a nutria while shopping in an Abbeville, Louisiana, Wal-Mart. Apparently the animal, which has beaver-like buckteeth and can grow as large as 18 pounds, was called Norman and served as the store’s unofficial mascot. The woman claimed that Norman darted from behind a rack, startling her and causing her to hurt her back and foot.

This is a nutria. The teeth are really that color. Seriously.

            Twelve-year-old Megan Templeton was stung by a scorpion while rummaging through the seedless watermelons at a Barboursville, West Virginia, Wal-Mart. The one-inch-long creature had hitched a ride in the shipment of Mexican produce. Fortunately this particular type of scorpion didn’t have highly toxic venom. The girl, who sustained an injury similar to a bee sting, was treated at a local hospital and released.

            Things got a bit more dicey for Jeriel Joiner. While shopping at a St. Augustine, Florida, Wal-Mart, he reached in among some potted plants in the garden center to grab a baby bottle dropped by his infant son. What he got instead was a bite on the finger from a  pygmy rattlesnake. Joiner survived, but doctors had to amputate the finger.

            Finally, when an emu (a flightless bird that can weigh as much as 100 pounds and stand six feet tall) showed up in the parking lot of a West Bend, Wisconsin, Wal-Mart, the quick-thinking staff corralled it with shopping carts and called authorities. A manager fed it grapes and apples to keep it calm until help arrived. Turns out it escaped from an emu ranch (there are such things) two miles away.

The other day I had a nightmare that seems to recur whenever the writing process isn't going all that well for me. I dreamed that I was on deadline to finish a manuscript, but had no idea what it was supposed to be about. Even worse, for some reason I was writing the entire thing on yellow legal pads, using a dull No. 2 pencil. In the dream I kept asking people what I was supposed to be working on, but no one could tell me.

Pretty creepy, but far preferable to my other writing nightmare. The one in which I wake up in the woods surrounded by the angry spirits of all the trees that have been chopped down and ground to pulp to create my previous works.

Towering, judgmental trees like these. Brrr...

It makes me wonder if there were any other writers out there who have recurring "deadline nightmares." If you'd like to share yours, I'd love to hear it.