From the Greek galaktinós, meaning milky, galactic is an adjective describing items related to the Milky Way (Late Latin galaxias) or, more recently/loosely, any galaxy in the universe. From those same milky roots come another definition of galactic: “pertaining to or stimulating the secretion of milk.”* Think lactate (v) or lactose (n).

Some time ago, I was in a Portland, Oregon bar discussing human cheese. The verdict (a few beers later) was that it didn’t sound so bad. But what would you call the company that makes human dairy products? Galactic, I said, because it sounds fancy and modern but it’s also more relevant than most people would realize. Gotta love a double entendre. So I left Oregon with a funny story, some thoughts about sustainable living and a cultural phobia to confront.

Lately, human milk is all over the news. The Wall Street Journal tells us many Chinese women are selling theirs, while PETA campaigns for Ben & Jerry’s to use human milk instead (Americone Dream, anyone?). Our nation’s reaction: disgust and uproar, almost exclusively. But what’s so bad about human milk? Why would we rather drink something designed for baby cows? And why, if breast milk is so repulsive, do some of us advocate its being fed to infants?

Much of the disgust must stem from our collective inability to believe something aesthetically attractive could have a practical function. Let’s face it: to us, boobs are for looking at and and thinking lewd things about. Why else would people consistently kvetch about mothers nursing in public?

Maybe it’s our ubiquitous preoccupation with eliminating bodily functions, or at least pretending they don’t exist. I heard this described once as “I stink therefore I am” — we think we smell, even when most of us don’t, so we spend lots of money and time trying not to smell. Some people must think human lactation is right up there with other unmentionable (and certainly unloved) natural functions.

But let’s think about this for a second. The buzzword of the decade is “sustainability.” To my mind, a nation that obsesses over high-tech fuels, community gardens and the slow food movement should readily embrace family or community-based dairy production. I’m not talking about some huge human dairy farm like what we see with cows. Instead, imagine if the matriarch of every family could provide everyone’s cheese, milk, ice cream, yogurt, etc. Nearly-endless free ingredients. No transportation or hormone injection required.

So galactic, although it’s really fun to say, might actually be something of a taboo word. But it’s also a great one. Mostly so because of its two meanings: one large and complicated and the other seemingly small and simple. Words like this (digital is another, relating both to vast information systems and to pinky fingers) help us put things into perspective. Lactation is relatively commonplace, but it’s also — scientifically and culturally — kind of a big deal. Meanwhile, I can see Mars and a host of light-years-old gaseous fireballs outside my bedroom window each night.

Speaking of Mars, the confectioner apparently makes a milk chocolate bar called Galaxy. I wonder if they knew about the dual puns.