You're a loonie, aren't you?

This morning Lisa pointed out a story to me in the San Antonio Express-News regarding a fellow named Dennis Hope who's been selling land on the moon for $19.99 an acre. The scary thing is, people are lining up to buy from hope and his so-called Lunar Embassy. The San Antonio paper doesn't seem to have that story online, but a quick google search turns up a very similar story from the Houston Chronicle:

"I don't consider myself to be a scam artist," Hope says. "I don't consider myself to be anything other than a businessperson that has found an opportunity."

He sits in the office of Lunar Embassy, where T-shirts, plaques and maps herald his company's right to homestead outer space -- and where all of the above are available for purchase.

Not a scam artist. Riiight. He's just a boy who read way too much Heinlein growing up. But not so fast, Dennis. It looks like you're selling something that belongs to someone else, namely the town of Geneva, Ohio, which laid claim to the moon back in 1966 and has the documentation to back it up. And unlike Hope, they actually made the effort to survey the property in person:

Miles says Spencer also organized a militia of bearded men to protect the city’s claim to the moon. And Whaley says he recalls the Centennial Committee building a rocket to the moon where the convenience store stands on South Broadway. He witnessed the liftoff.

“The smoke poured out of it like it was going to the moon,” Whaley says. “Everybody gathered around to watch it, but it just sat there and looked silly.”

Personally, I'm laying claim to the L5 lagrange point while all these nincompoops argue over barren rock. I figure I'll slip in under the radar, so to speak. After all, who's going to challenge my ownership over something that physically isn't there?

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