I was working on a perfectly lovely post about lady ass [technically it was about ass in general, but, being the straight guy I am, I prefer lady ass] when some dirty goddamn hippy reminded me that today is Earth Day, that tiresome festival of dirt-worshipping drivel where we’re supposed to genuflect to a third-rate planet that’s been coasting on its own hype since the Cambrian.  Personally, obviously, I’d rather be writing about lady ass, but if I must address this silly day, I’m torching the hippy script.  No more fawning over this cosmic has-been.  Earth’s a dump, and we, the gloriously unbowed Home sapiens, deserve better.  The theme for Earth Day 2025?  Make Mars Our Bitch.  Elon is, as usual, right: it’s time to ditch this played-out orb and seize a red-hot future on a planet that doesn’t suck.

Point 1: Earth’s a Shithole, and Always Has Been
Let’s be honest: the only reason the hippies like this place is because it’s all they know.  If they’d spend any time on literally any other planet, they’d know that Earth is a galactic embarrassment, a petri dish of mediocrity that’s been phoning it in for eons.  Oh, sure, it’s got oceans and forests and all that postcard crap, but peel back the Instagram filter, and what do you see?  A temperamental hellscape that’s been trying to kill us since we crawled out of the primordial ooze.  Volcanoes spewing ash, earthquakes flattening our cities, hurricanes treating our coastlines like punching bags – Earth’s got the temperament of a hungover wolverine.  And don’t start with the “but nature’s so beautiful” horseshit.  Nature’s a sociopath, red in tooth and claw, serving up plagues, locusts, and tsunamis like a cosmic middle finger to our ambitions.

The planet’s rap sheet is longer than a Pynchon novel.  Ice ages that froze our ancestors’ balls off.  Meteor strikes that turned dinosaurs into fossilized ash.  An atmosphere so stingy with oxygen it took billions of years to make itself even halfway livable.  And those vaunted ecosystems?  Fragile as a trust-fund poet’s ego, collapsing at the first whiff of change.  Earth’s not some benevolent mother; it’s a landlord from hell, jacking up the rent with every tectonic shrug.  We humans, with our incandescent ingenuity, our Promethean chutzpah, have been propping up this loser rock for millennia – building cities, inventing penicillin, splitting the atom – while Earth just sits there, sulking like a washed-up diva.  It’s not our fault this place is a mess; Earth was broken from the jump.

Point 2: Make Mars Our Bitch
So why keep slumming it on this cosmic lemon when we’ve got Mars, that sexy, rust-red renegade, just begging for the human touch?  Earth Day 2025 is our chance to flip the bird at this planetary slumlord and stake our claim on a world that’s got potential.  Mars is the ultimate blank canvas, a tabula rasa untainted by Earth’s baggage – no whiny ecosystems to coddle, no fault lines throwing tantrums, just pure, unadulterated opportunity.  We’re not here to grovel, goddammit; we’re here to conquer, to bend a whole damn planet to our indomitable will.  And holy monkey, does that feel good.

Picture it, man: domed metropolises gleaming under a Martian twilight, fusion reactors humming like the gods’ own mixtape, hydroponic farms churning out bespoke arugula for our interstellar elite.  We’ll terraform the crap out of that dusty wasteland, pumping atmosphere into its bony skies and carving canals deeper than Burroughs’ fever dreams.  Mars is harsh-radiation, thin air, dust storms that’d choke a lesser species – but we’re not lesser.  We’re the bastards who tamed fire, mapped the genome, and invented the McRib (which, btw, McDonald’s really needs to bring that back…it’s been months).  Making Mars our bitch isn’t just doable; it’s our birthright.  No more kowtowing to Earth’s fickle bullshit.  We’ll build a civilization that makes the Red Planet box, a monument to human badassery that’ll echo through the cosmos.

Sure, there’s work to do – shielding habitats, cracking the water problem, keeping the colonists from going full Lord of the Flies.  But we’re the species that put a man on the moon while Earth was busy coughing up tornadoes.  Elon’s out there, yeeting rockets and dreaming of Martian zip codes.  Let’s channel our inner imperialists, and make Earth Day a middle finger to a planet that never deserved us.  Mars is our destiny, our chance to flex our species-level swagger and build something that doesn’t come with a built-in eviction notice.

Coda:
Here’s the deal: Earth Day 2025 ain’t about singing odes to a planet that’s been flipping us off since the Pleistocene.  It’s about celebrating us – humanity, the only thing in this universe with the balls to dream bigger than its circumstances.  Earth’s a has-been, a cosmic dive bar with bad lighting and worse service.  Mars?  That’s our Penthouse suite, waiting for us to kick in the door.  So raise a flask of hypothetical Martian hooch and toast to the future, where we’re not tenants but overlords, turning a barren rock into humanity’s magnum opus.  Make Mars Our Bitch, you glorious bastards.

N.P.: “The Killing Moon” – Stabbing Westward