The wheels are now in motion for a flush of greater impact than that of the recently repaired toilet on ISS. The back story is coming together. The timing is almost at hand. The minute hand on the clock is approaching midnight.
For, you see, The Emperor is getting ready to make his last bid at saving his neck while throwing the rest of the minions, who have done his bidding without resistance, under the bus.
And we can now tell you how it will go down.
Sometime in the not too distant future, many of the technical issues surfacing from the liberal use of steroids in the Constellation architecture will start to become unavoidable and clearly unsolvable. Viceroy Hanley's not too swift comments from last week are already echoing around E Street as a distant cry in the night for change. So, just before the election, we will see an overhaul of the program management from top to bottom, with a declaration from the Emperor that the team had done a great job, but was fatigued and needed relief. The new team will, of course, "fix" all of the misfortunes.
The man who avoids Men's Wearhouse will then point out how "unreasonable" it would be to throw the new team out, just as it is getting traction, when the next administration comes in. He will plead his case that new leadership will only result in a further lengthening of "the gap." He will hope this case, and continued safe stewardship of the space shuttle, will be enough to keep him off the unemployment line with the others he just sent packing.
That case might just float for a bit with the Democrats, because they will be overwhelmed with filling other job slots before they get to worrying the Emperor's domain. But if the Republicans grab the keys, we can only hope the following words ring true for the man who has so thoroughly bankrupted our spacefaring future...
"Therefore, send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."