We've all gone down to the surf again,
the joeys with us too,
though humans wonder what we see
in this grassless saltsea stew.
We wonder too,
what humans see
in those balls they chase around.
For when we've finished bathing
we go to higher ground
to watch the silly golfers
while we laugh without a sound.
When the next dominant species excavates our remains, golf will be the single reason they will conclude we could not possibly have been the previous top species, let alone sentient.
Ooh hoo! Perhaps I should report a conversation that I recently overheard during a journey to Planet X, some years in the future.
Xientist 2, an underling: "These balls are a life-form in a state of dormancy."
Xientist 1, the leader of the team: "Have you probed them?"
Underling: "That is the first thing I did. They expelled their digestive organs."
Leader grimaces. "They'll be sure to grow again, and the next time they try that trick--"
Xtudent: "Excuse me, Doctors. These balls are too widely distributed in dry strata and wet strata to be one life-form. They must be religious artifacts."
The lead Xientist's skin flashes on sides away from the xtudent. Then Lead Xientist says: "And of course you have a theory."
Xtudent: "Of course! The pits in the balls are the clue. They are images of the God of Mining."
Lead Xientist: Blinding burst.
Xtudent and Underling emit horrible smell as the pool of them sizzles.
Well, that's what I heard, and you know what half-seen scenes are like.
"It was the eggplant."
"No, the tourmaline."
"Brute wh... qara.....
! That deserves its own post on the main blog.
Shh. I shouldn't even have said what I did, but your delightful speculation made me drop my usual secrecy about my travels, and certainly my sense of caution. I'm hoping the Lead Xientist doesn't track me down to this outpost.
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