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Why We're Here
25 July 2009 14:43Deep in the subterranean tunnels of Earth’s jawbreaker heart, loneliness boomed. White and orange Cadbury-crème-egg lava swirled by itself. Bored and horny, the earth decided to send up a flag. A little “I’m here” personals ad for any other planet out there to hear.
Round one. Dinosaurs. Good golly, those creatures were never going to invent radio waves or television or teleportation or space travel. Erase. Start over.
Here we are. Humanity. Pumping information out in the universe on a loudspeaker. The content doesn’t matter. It is a mating call. A shout-out to the dance floor of the universe. We are pollen that yells. We are the sex organs of this rock. We are the perfume and bright colours that Mother Earth is using to get noticed.
Far away, a sentient insect species that has almost exhausted it’s own planet by turning it into one giant hive will need to hear us. They will never have developed radio waves or television. They will have no dishes set up to receive Earth’s hail. They will not hear us and they will die, that planet will have to start over. Alone.
Earth created us to yell. Let’s do it. As loudly as possible. And let’s leave Earth when it gets too crowded. Let’s go to Mars. Let’s populate the asteroid belt. Let’s turn up the volume.
Let the life of other planets hear us and come running.
The idea of ‘Earth’ will spread to other alien civilizations when we meet.
Every human man, woman, and child in our culture will know the name of that other race’s planet, whatever it’s called, after we meet.
That is why we are called cultures. We are mold that turns into spores.
A planet develops an ego and wants to spread its fame across the universe. It wants to make children that it can be proud of. It wants the idea of itself to spread beyond its borders, to become a story, to ascend from rock into legend.
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Round one. Dinosaurs. Good golly, those creatures were never going to invent radio waves or television or teleportation or space travel. Erase. Start over.
Here we are. Humanity. Pumping information out in the universe on a loudspeaker. The content doesn’t matter. It is a mating call. A shout-out to the dance floor of the universe. We are pollen that yells. We are the sex organs of this rock. We are the perfume and bright colours that Mother Earth is using to get noticed.
Far away, a sentient insect species that has almost exhausted it’s own planet by turning it into one giant hive will need to hear us. They will never have developed radio waves or television. They will have no dishes set up to receive Earth’s hail. They will not hear us and they will die, that planet will have to start over. Alone.
Earth created us to yell. Let’s do it. As loudly as possible. And let’s leave Earth when it gets too crowded. Let’s go to Mars. Let’s populate the asteroid belt. Let’s turn up the volume.
Let the life of other planets hear us and come running.
The idea of ‘Earth’ will spread to other alien civilizations when we meet.
Every human man, woman, and child in our culture will know the name of that other race’s planet, whatever it’s called, after we meet.
That is why we are called cultures. We are mold that turns into spores.
A planet develops an ego and wants to spread its fame across the universe. It wants to make children that it can be proud of. It wants the idea of itself to spread beyond its borders, to become a story, to ascend from rock into legend.
tags