Posts Tagged ‘humanity

08
Aug
24

When Did the Olympics Become the AI Takeover?

By writingbolt Leave a Comment
Categories: Concerns and Alerts and Uncategorized
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****

In the summer of 2024, that’s when…when the AI revolution began to become frightfully apparent, when this human, hearing about employment hardships in his own family…and stock-market concerns…seeing countless commercials for various AI providers, as if any of that is reassuring to anyone with a brain…started to tremble with panic for this world’s future, for the future of humankind.

[Yes, that was a horrible run-on sentence. But, it comes with the weight of something seriously souring the Paris 2024 Summer Olympics.  Someone call Sarah Connors and/or her son John.  The machines are coming.  The machines are coming!]

I recall, not long ago, seeing ads for Salesforce and thinking Matt M. was a well-spoken cheerleader for world peace and unity, even if I was unaware of what Salesforce really was and unsure if I should be concerned. Now, I’m seeing even more ads with him and various characters, a lot of Western references, and I am starting to get a bigger picture that is frightful and growing at an alarming rate. All that talk about coming together and getting to work was balderdash to coax people into siding with a company working on AI. Matt’s the menace he played in that Dark Tower movie. A dark cloud is forming over the sky like a blanket of doom. If the world is being handed over to AI, and humans are being convinced they are as smart as Einstein for submitting, doom isn’t a strong enough word to explain our inevitable and quickly approaching demise.

I cannot scream it loud enough; my teachers would be boiling in their skins at the thought of turning over thought processes and “work” to some computerized brain. The real Albert Einstein would be both honored and disgusted to have an AI in his name, honored to be given added popularity but disgusted to see countless others think of themselves as being anything like him when they’re not using their brains for more than handing over a task and/or question to a computer designed by someone other than Albert Einstein.

Who’s the real Einstein behind the AI? Shouldn’t their name be on the computer brain? What does their hair and face look like? Make a filter for that and leave Albert Einstein to his relativity.

If only we could give up the conveniences and unhealthy fads thrust upon us, ignore the TV and other sources of media, kick those “feeds” to the cyber-curb and look at our world through organic eyes, really see life as it is and not how it’s sold or pitched as a number, a rating, a sales score. Maybe we’d salvage our health and not lose our hair or teeth in the chase for an economy which may very soon be sucked up one last drain pipe, leaving only the select few who orchestrated the AI takeover in a position to dole out or hoard resources. Your life, your legacy may very well be falling into the hands of an elite few. And, I wonder what we ever had a chance to do to stop this.

I feel like some ancient slave doomed to be grinded under the stones which are about to build the next pyramid; a big, sky-blue pyramid topped with the face of a phony pharaoh, a marketing master who seduced humankind into its own demise, who found a way to get rid of every possible threat to his emotional and mental well-being, who out-Nazi-ed Adolph Hitler, who took Darwin’s pitch on “survival of the fittest” and made it his own (expletive). Checkmate, humanity.

What motivates me to get up every morning and find any comfort, any purpose and value to my time, energy, heart and talents? Certainly not slaving away at some job that temporarily pretends to be helpful to a shipping monopoly, turning my tasks over to AI and wondering if I’ll have a job or the resources to afford my life once I do.

If all this AI spared every human the need to work to finance their lives and not pay taxes or health-care costs, that would be amazing. But, I highly doubt that’s where this is headed. If that were true, if everyone was going to be cared for as they should, companies wouldn’t be sending their staff home without more than a small sum and a cold hand while the company merges with another and turns into a monopoly so large that it seems impossible to topple. Someone, anyone, reassure me. Would you? Tell me the future is better than whatever version of Star Trek these tech moguls are trying to create.

Look at all of the advertising for the Paris Olympics. And, how much of that is NOT including AI? Not much.

Hey, guess what. I wrote all of the above with my own mind, my own heart and feelings. I may have used a computer to type, but I didn’t use a CoPilot or some phony Einstein to think for me or alter my abilities. I did my own proofreading and edits. I didn’t need a thesaurus or dictionary or calculator of any damned kind. I used my God-given assets and limitations. I embrace my old teachers, real people with hearts and minds of their own, who told me to use my brain. Deal with that, you cyber freaks. I will not submit to your machines. You want to live forever as a hard drive? Build your own damn cyber-coffin and live in a CPU. Don’t reduce the rest of humankind to dust in your pursuit. Key word search: humanity has more value than costly technology.

***

But, I will make one small concession. I saw an ad for an AI translation feature on a dual-screen phone, allowing diners to converse with foreign restaurant staff without difficulty. I am not sure why AI is a factor when translation services have been on computers for some time, just not readily available, maybe, for dining at restaurants. I’d sure like to ease talks with foreigners (and skip the years of classes to master all of the other languages). But, do I trust the computer or AI to properly translate the spoken word? [I’ve been communicating with some foreigners online, and, when I translate emails, sometimes, the lines don’t make sense. I then have to wonder what was lost in translation. I think slang will forever be a problem for any AI, never knowing when someone is using an alternate meaning or sarcasm.]

01
Oct
21

The Loss of Attention to the Intention of Invention

By writingbolt Leave a Comment
Categories: Concerns and Alerts and Uncategorized
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****

Being naïve to praise is a dangerous trait. Someone claims to like what you make. So, you make more, hoping to keep the praise train going; maybe make some money. Suddenly, your creation is a hit, boosted in sales by the media and some wealthy investors. And, in a few years, if you’re not the fad of the decade, you’re among the richest in the world. People call you a genius and keep feeding the growth of your empire. Soon enough, you’re buying up companies that have nothing to do with your original “genius,” like you just won a fortune in the game of Monopoly and are itching to put up a dozen hotels.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world suffers from a misguided production line. The environment suffers. [Hello? Factories that cannot help but pollute. And, mistakes pile up in landfills, which take up more and more space, like faulty parking garages that collect tolls.] The economy suffers (because you’re raking in the most money while others are cutting costs, corners and employees to make ends meet). And, often enough, humanity suffers by becoming slaves to your latest “convenience.”

Here’s a smart invention. Door locks you don’t need tools or “professionals” to install. You just stick, paste and coordinate them with your “smartphone.” Yay, more electronic devices!…that eventually need new batteries or a charge and are sure to glitch and fail, sometime. You entrust your security to this system and find the stupid things on the floor when the “stick” you accepted (instead of solid steel screws and a little manual labor) looses its grip, a grip anyone could break with a little effort. ‘Can’t get a good signal to check a camera feed or disable a faulty alarm? Bummer. How smart is that “phone,” now?

Why didn’t I get a warning? Oh, because I depended upon an electronic gizmo to do everything for me. I stopped using my own brain and senses of awareness to prevent the threat. Instead of taking action to reduce the hazard, I put up a feeble defense system and let the bandits assault my castle. No worries. We’ll just improve the quality of your “flexible seal” and sell you the updated version of that security system, later. You just throw the old one on the landfill and wait for the mailman to arrive. ‘Gotta love free shipping!

You know what’s even more dangerous?

No. Not the mad-scientist sort who intentionally plots to take over the world. At least, so far, that sort of person hasn’t surfaced anywhere except in movies. But, anything seems possible, these days. Most of us really don’t know…enough. As they say in The X-Files, the truth is out there.

What’s more dangerous is lacking the empathy and/or conscience to see the problem before it arises. You know…not that you’d ever think of stopping production of anything you invent…because that would be counter-productive to your genius; your creativity.

[And, as a creative mind myself, who has fallen hard from excessive praise (though not nearly the levels of praise certain other wealthier folks have received), I acknowledge this.]

[If you think like a robot who is motivated (or programmed) to make more robots, are you going to see the error in your programming and stop production before you wipe out humankind?…if not all of nature, as well? You were built by humans…or, later, I’m sure, a robot…built by humans. Of course, you’re going to get stupid and keep producing; spare no expense to your Jurassic Park.]

I recently saw a video clip of Elon Musk talking about the future of robots. [It was featured with a news segment about robots replacing workers during this Covid-19 crisis; which went on to say the biggest and wealthiest inventors were busy producing replacements for human labor. If that isn’t enough to get your minds buzzing with concern…] He says robots will soon be able to do everything better than humans…everything. And, quote, he doesn’t know what else to say about that.

[And, you know what my response was? I felt the slightest cracking of madness setting in and was compelled to sing a lyric from that ol’ R.E.M. song about the “end of the world, as we know it.”]

Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? The guy’s deemed a genius, worth and amassing countless dollars for his creations. And, he has a mental condition that strips him of awareness for his own actions. He might as well be one of his own androids.
[And, maybe he is. Maybe his sterling-silver mother with her cunning smile and slicked back hair is the mastermind behind the robotic son. Dr. Alexa Frankenstein. There. I said it.]

[And, if you missed my earlier warning… They are talking about replacing human workers with robots due to a “labor shortage” during a “crisis” caused by some virus released in a Chinese lab; a lab in the country best known for housing countless factories which produce (American) “modern conveniences.” Forget talk about sweat shops. There won’t be any sweat left to produce if this production line continues…except the sweat of human fear. A man-made (even if it was accidental) virus puts the world in a panic and takes plenty out of the workforce. What a perfect opportunity for technological manufacturers to move in and take control. You think this wasn’t intended by someone? Coincidence?…I think not. And, if you need more distraction, let’s talk about a questionable vaccine mandate/solution. While you are taking sides on that issue, the factories will be at work making your replacements. I hope you were not trying to achieve something with the life you were given. Moo…Moo-ve along, cattle. Progress is prodding you toward your own demise. Though, it’s unlikely you have any chance of changing what is happening…if we are all truly in danger of rapidly dying from a hazardous virus that is taking us down, dozen by dozen, like an expert assassin. Wherever we go, there it may be.]

Lately, every guy given this grand status of technological genius has rather quickly turned into a dark, looming storm cloud of disaster.

***

They didn’t finish school like the “smartest hard-working students” among us; they just came up with something “smart” and rushed right into production (from their “garage”). RUMBLE!

Glitches abound. Updates need to be made, constantly. But, someone keeps investing to turn this coal into a diamond. RUMBLE!

Everyone gets a copy! It’s free (or “affordable”)…for now. Why is it so popular? Because I just told you and am giving you a copy! RUMBLE!

Free (trial) service becomes one more monthly fee, increasing in cost every few years. Now, you’re renting what was “sold” to entice you. RUMBLE!

Everyone must use the latest invention because it’s no longer as-seen-on-TV. It’s mandated. If you don’t learn how and use it, you’re obsolete and unemployed. Services you expect to continue working are suddenly changed and placed under different rules you must now learn and afford. RUMBLE!

The minds behind the genius suffer some sort of breakup (divorce) which prompts further loss of emotional support (that’s tech support for humankind) and a plunge into increased mindless creation and spending of seemingly limitless capital. RUMBLE!

The next time you see the genius on your preferred glowing, radiating convenience, he (or she…but usually HE) is not looking so good (though, they always seem to look pasty) and seems to be hiding something…like they are afraid (if they still feel fear) to say something. RUMBLE!

KA-BOOM! We’re all dead, replaced by someone’s inventions. And, we never get to see all of the other lovely animals and plants of our world crumble and die under the metallic feet of “progress.”

***

Invention is the drug that intoxicates the lonely genius. Genius is another word for alcoholic. Why? Because, once you are deemed and believe you are a genius, you can’t stop yourself from inventing, from creating MORE.

If you are an “inventor,” you’re still “small,” less dangerous, less senseless. Your ego is in check because you’re still working toward something. But, like an alcoholic, if you don’t curb your enthusiasm, you’re at risk of becoming a full-throttle genius, someone wealthier folks will pump full of their money to project a business model upon the world. If you are deemed a “genius,” “pro” or “expert,” you know it all; you don’t need anyone to tell you anything. You’re the master of your domain…until some more influential fool pushes you off your mountain. You’ll be too blinded by production and managing all you invent to see the bulldozer driven by the next “genius” in line.

And, if people hear about you, some will surely bow to your “greatness.” They will like. They will subscribe. They will comply. They will be assimilated. And, like many subscriptions, these days, they cannot withdraw from your contract. They signed on; they’re stuck with that decision.

[You’re an Icarus until you fall from the burning light of the sun as it melts your foolish wings.]

[Adolph Hitler wasn’t born a monster. He was driven to become a monster, fed by those who bowed to him, who cowered before him and agreed to do his bidding. Then anyone who still did not agree went to war with the guy’s amassing forces, and there was a ton of bloodshed and destruction before someone called an end to the conflict.

Jump ahead to modern times. Instead of sending countless bodies to their graves, we use remote-control war machines. Just like the old days of steering factory production toward assisting the military (all of those ads for war bonds and collecting scrap this and that to build weapons and support the troops)……

What? You don’t think all the recent talk about human-like robots, or androids, won’t also be given some combative purpose? You think there won’t be robot policemen and soldiers? Well, aren’t you just the foolish one.

And, who is leading this robotic army? And, what if every warring nation develops its own robotic army? Is that any different than every nation wanting its own nuclear weapons…just in case…and then dealing with some bossy nation like the USA, telling them to disable those weapons while leaving their own active and ready to launch at any time? And, what if we have to start worrying about “hackers” turning our robotic weapons against us? And, where will all the scrapped soldiers and weapons go? And, will any humans–other than the most wealthy who probably have a secure underground safehouse to preserve them–be around to celebrate some sort of victory?]

[If Einstein didn’t accept and believe in his genius, he would not have continued pursuing his famous theories until he died. He was drunk on pushing his brain beyond its limits.]

You’d think after countless movies and TV shows about this sort of thing we humans would see the light before the dawn. But, at best, those who DO predict disaster are written off as paranoid and cynical. Oh, that guy. He’s always ranting about something. That old coot. Shake your head. Fan your hand at him and move along. If it’s not making money, what good is it?

Keep buying your Mountain Dew Red, Blue and Color-Not-Found-in-Nature and slaving away at the general’s mill. You’re working toward…something. You’re affording convenience…until that convenience can no longer afford you.

*****

Let me just carve a slot in this heated subject matter to inject some thought about religion, about faith. In such a mad, pressurized environment of technological domination and social collapse, you’d think retaining a “faith,” believing in some sort of god, was impossible. You’d think we all would/should turn atheist. How can a god allow this madness to occur?

But, if you think a little further, a little bigger, a little outside the box outside the box…

What if this madness we are experiencing isn’t also intended by the same god(s)? What if our demise is as “written” as was our invention?…our creation?

[Read my next post for more on this subject. Or, you’d be here all day reading my diverting thoughts in one big slice.]

*****

[I could probably go on for hours with this feverish rant. But, having an ounce of conscience, something others in “higher places” seem to lack, I think I made my point. ‘No use getting fall-off-the-stool drunk in my outlook.]

If current conditions have anything to say about survival of the fittest, then, I guess, I am not among the “fittest.” I cannot compete with those bent on replacing humankind with machines, even if, right now, they are among the “wealthy” and “intelligent” minority who assume they will rule the universe (and let the rest of us fall where we may). I don’t have the same financial backing and other resources. I have failed at rallying others to my side. I don’t lead any party that can turn the tide (and am not interested in becoming the next “Hitler”). I guess, because I don’t swear allegiance to the forces that plot to ruin natural life as we may know it, I am doomed to get buried by the overwhelming majority of slaves to convenience (and whatever mad artificial world their masters conceive).

GET SMART, PEOPLE! Before it’s too late. [And, I don’t mean invent the next convenience that quickly turns into a financial empire (and ecological disaster).] Turn off the grid and find your heart, your spirit, your conscience. Or, soon enough, nothing you are told or sold will matter. Everything that makes sense will be just an illusion, nonsense in the fog of anesthesia carrying your poor excuse for a robotic body away while your replacement takes control. Does your life matter? Prove it.

The next time someone tells you that you are SO smart for crafting something, whether it’s a painting, a blueprint for a “new” type of house, a theory for our existence, a piece of computer software or the next synthetic human being, you flip a switch in your head and think twice about that compliment……or we all suffer.

[Lastly, here are a few thought-provoking images I am adding after I wrote this, inspired by the content.]

comeinpeace-goinpieces_cutman-peacefingers-disassembled_megaman-dvd-clip-4enjoyyourreplacements_DrLightsutilitybots_megaman-dvd-clip-5fixyourself-foolishthinking_roll-withthisyoucanbearealwoman-drwilyspuppet_megaman-dvd-clip-6influencerscome_magnetman-poweringup_megaman-dvd-clip-2influencersgo_magnetman-disassembled_megaman-dvd-clip-3peoplenotlearningfromhistory_newswoman-reporting-at-disasterscene_megaman-dvd-clip-1replacementinmakersimage-denialofexistence_megaman-wearing-wilysmindcontrolhat_megaman-dvd-clip-9replacingthereplacements-artificiallovers_DrPetto-roll-nosleepingonthejob_megaman-dvd-clip-7shouldhaveforeseentheend-preventit_rush-DrLight-roll-trashcompactor-ed_megaman-dvd-clip-8

27
Sep
16

What a Waste

By writingbolt Leave a Comment
Categories: Concerns and Alerts and Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

*****

It hit me yesterday as another lame presidential debate unfolded and, of all people, Donald Trump hits me over the head with the V8 bottle.  All the money wasted on slandering ads.  But, the buck doesn’t stop there.  The whole election system seems a waste of time, money and work hours.  Presently, it’s about a woman who is never going to be forgotten for being absent-minded with her use of computers and a business blowhard who is as fearless as he is foolish when it comes to public relations.  And, in the middle of the arena is a heap of currency from gamblers.  Above their heads is the “fate of Americana” if that’s not just tabloid hype.

Pull the string a little harder, and you find ties to American rights fought so hard for by the armed forces.  I have heard some people question why anyone would not vote for the next president when “our troops fight so hard for these freedoms.”

Is going to war really worth the mockery of an election process?  Is that really a favorable freedom, voting for people who are pressured into mud-slinging nonsense to rile a divided country into taking up sides built on playground behavior rampant in elementary schools?

I am reminded–for whatever reason–of someone I know who worked with a “charitable organization” and came home with some rather expensive “swag” which was spread among staff as a tax write-of–er, gratitude for services.  My family didn’t need the “swag.”  Someone else surely could make better use of the items.  Why do people who don’t need these items get them?  And, what do I anticipate most people who get this “swag” to do with it?  Well, odds are, they’ll either put it up for auction (say on eBay) or offer it to someone else with a good chance that someone else will not use it, either.  Maybe I am being pessimistic.  But, it smells more and more like the likely outcome, at least, from where I live, from my point of view.  Knowing my luck with stepping outside this point of view, I’ll go to another state or country and find much more sensible, generous and productive use of such “swag.”  And, I am sure, in some places, worse use.

In short, I guess I am just nauseous from how much time, money and resources are exhausted each day on crap that amounts to nothing.  And, in the back of my head, I hear the Foo Fighters singing that song about “reaching the prize at the end of the road” and all that “nothing” that comes before seeing one’s own “ghost.”  As I said to myself last night, I fear one day, in the distant future, some other race will look back upon humankind and sum it all up as a waste of space and resources, a species that constantly tried to assert itself as right in self-centered ways until extinction.

I’m clinging to a shred of hope that won’t be the case.

Maybe guys like Kaepernick have the right idea about not partaking in the national anthem.  But, if so, what does that say about the nation who boasts being #1.  And, what’s it going to take to remedy the situation?  Certainly, not a “bank bailout.”  Certainly, not another ridiculous election of a figurehead with two opposing teams of underlying “factory workers.”  Certainly, not a nation of people giving up on trying.  [But, I’m leaning toward falling into that last group, myself.  Which isn’t good.]  Certainly not more APP businesses that are a flash in the pan predecessor of a scary  world already seen in movies mankind made.  Certainly not more minimum wage jobs and guns in hands of desperate and foolish people.

I don’t have any grand answer.  But, I’d love to establish a decent think tank.

11
Aug
14

They Don’t Make ‘Em Like They Used To

By writingbolt Leave a Comment
Categories: Concerns and Alerts and Uncategorized
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Have you ever heard someone say that about some machine, toy, phone, “doodad” or gizmo? You know…the title of this piece. It’s something I haven’t heard myself in a while. But, that’s just because I am no longer a kid surrounded by elderly folks. Those who said it to me have passed on, already. But, the message still rings true now and then.

There was a time not too long ago when adults of the ’60s looked at the toys and technology of the ’80s–particularly television sets–and said, “They sure don’t make them like they used to.” This was shortly after Americans took a break from bitching about the “China-men” making inferior products. But, even today, if you listen to some of these millionaire business types, where would they be if they didn’t have their production lines overseas? Not too long ago, there was a big stink being raised about lead paint on toys. Lead paint; something I haven’t heard about since childhood when there was considerable concern about kids eating paint chips from older houses. [But, if you get me started on lead paint and the Chinese labor force working for the U.S.A., we’ll be here all week.]

The point I am slowly trying to make is…

If you look at modern technology–everything from lawn equipment to household appliances to your “newfangled” flat TVs and razor-thin-ready-to-snap-at-any-moment computers–you don’t see many–if any–lifetime warranties. You’re lucky if you get a five-year warranty. What amazes me is how some manufacturers will avoid a fuss and let you have a replacement (sometimes at an additional expense even if it’s considerably smaller).

Back when, replacements didn’t come so easily. You didn’t trade in a $100+ phone made from nuclear waste that does everything from flash a light under your bed to manage your banking/spending every two years. You bought a phone that plugged into the wall and was glad it was still working when the power went out. Now, you drop your “phone” (and I use the term lightly) in a puddle or on the sidewalk (because you have to have it with you at all times), and you’re lucky if you aren’t forking over another $200+ for a replacement.

[You see how the price shot up in just a few years? There was a time when you expected a fairly standard price for a phone. The technology didn’t change in two years, and what you had worked just fine if you didn’t take it outside and throw/drop it everywhere, you klutzes. AND, your hand didn’t vibrate or glow in the dark after holding your phone for a few hours. Okay, so maybe I am exaggerating about the hand glowing in the dark.]

There was a time when you bought something with little fear of it not working in as many as ten years or more. You trusted a name that built a reputation for itself. You trusted the materials with which the item was made.

There was a time not so long ago when cash was so scarce, they called it the Great Depression, and countless lives were in financial jeopardy. Back then, they didn’t have “smart phone plans” to worry about. They didn’t even have video entertainment. How in the world did they live?!…you kids might ask. Well, I am fairly sure there was probably the same business scheming going on then as it is today. It just came under a different label as it drove people broke. But, whatever it was, I am sure it lasted the people a few more years than a computer telling its user, “It’s been two years. Replace me.”

You know what piece of technology hasn’t changed much since the dawn of time? Mankind. We may have lost some hair and body mass (ha). We may have learned to stand up straighter and use different words now and then. We may have changed the way we eat our food, dress and clean ourselves. We probably earned a longer life expectancy from working less and sitting on those asses people have been pointing and shaking their heads at, lately. But, we can be just as dumb as our ancestors.

How dumb are we? Well, we’re so dumb that we will slap anything on our skin or trust another human being to make us look young, “pretty” or “handsome.” We’re so dumb that we take pills as directed by other humans only to suffer side-effects we should have seen coming (but we didn’t…because we’re so dumb). We’re so dumb that we will burn a plant in our mouths or wash one down our throats to fight stress only to risk the lives of others around us and put that stress on our bodily organs, anyway. We’re so dumb that we move just like cattle as we chase the latest things because the ones someone stopped making last summer are now obsolete.

Can you replace your grandparents or siblings so easily? I think not. No matter what insurance policy you buy, pill you take or defense system you install, you don’t have a lifetime warranty or even a two-year warranty. Your number could be up tomorrow. [That’s another fairly old piece of lingo, by the way. Your number being up. For those of you born after the cellphone, it means “you could die.”]

So, the next time you think about buying some new gadget, trinket or Macintablet or reach for a fresh (or freshly charged) battery pack, remember what ol’ Writingbolt just told you. You can either drain your bank account (which was filled with your life force applied to that thing called work…of whatever kind you employ) every few years chasing stupidity. Or, you can wise up and rethink the way this world appears to be going. Buy something more reliable. And, invest in those around you who are worth more than any self-destructing wireless “life-distactor.”

Maybe it’s time we all slowed down to think instead of trying to be the one who throws him or herself into a wall the fastest. Yeah. That sounds dumb. Just give it time. I’m sure it’s out there on YouBoobTube, already. And, it’s getting a billion hits.

There was a time when hits were something your older brother…

28
Jul
14

The Art of Excess

By writingbolt Leave a Comment
Categories: Creations and My Fiction
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

 

On a milestone birthday in the depths of space, a budding artist (with a face full of bubbling, molten craters) opened her eyes and marveled at the new tools provided by her parents. The intense, singeing light of her father and the softer, enchanting glow of her mother came together to wish their daughter well in pursuit of happy growth and enhancement. Vowing to make them proud, the young orb took a deep breath and went to work.

Her early efforts produced a multitude of lifeforms both stationary and mobile. The former consistently worshipped her parents while the latter were free to experiment, giving all who watched a source of amusement. Father and mother were indeed pleased. Their smiles burst with a brilliant energy which could be seen from galaxies away.
“Go on, my child!” said the father. “Create more! It gives your mother and I such joy to see you paint your surface with these colors! One day you shall be the crown jewel of our domain!”

So, the child continued to create and age. But, every now and then, her father and mother would drift apart, leaving her in the cold of deep space to wonder if what she created was still worthy of praise. In a fit of sadness and frustration, she struck herself with a large rock, hoping to free some promising ideas from her already cracked skull. Instead, it erased her vision temporarily, wiping a large portion of the art from her surface. When her parents returned, a new motif had taken over their daughter.

“What’s this?!” gasped the father. “Such a drastic change! What has made you tear down what you already made and replace it with something new?!”

“Father, each time I turned around, you and Mother left me alone,” said the young artist with a sigh. “I did not feel your warmth at my back. I thought you no longer approved of my work.”

“Look how they behave differently when I draw closer in your father’s absence,” said Mother with her cheeks aglow as she separated from her mate. “You honor us with your talents, daughter. Go on. Continue creating. You are just beginning to grow.”

Despite her concern and flickering confidence, the artist did as she was told. Nothing she made gave her the joy she had seen in her parents’ faces. Again and again, she changed her canvas while expending her vital energy (which, at the time of her youth, seemed infinite), each time hoping the next visit of her parents would be happier than the last.

When they did return for her birthday, she had yet another surprise waiting for them. Gazing upon the new creation, Father blew flames to the far reaches of space and withdrew. His color paled from an ardent red-orange to a weaker yellow. “What in the great cosmos are those?! And, what are they doing to each other?!”

Tilting her head ever so slightly, his daughter said, “I have not decided what to call them, yet, as they keep changing on me. I am leaning toward naming them Humanity. What do you think, Mother?”

Though her mate was dismayed, mildly cross and tempted to scorch the young artist’s hide, Mother, impressed with the new lifeforms (which could adapt themselves more readily than any other), showed enthusiasm. “They are certainly unique and interactive.” She paused to look away when one fierce band of the fleshy rebels destroyed another, leaving a gruesome stain on the daughter’s cheek. Refraining from preaching about cleanliness, Mother added, “Keep at it, my child. But, do not be so hasty to destroy what you have made. Let it mature with you. You continue to grow in wisdom though experience. Some day, you will shine as bright as your mother or–maybe–your father.”

With those encouraging words, the still youthful artist returned to her labors, working with her latest creation to “enhance” her appearance. [Meanwhile, her parents ventured off in mounting disagreement.] As the years rolled by, the ever-mutable clay of “Humanity” grew in quantity and violence, gradually wiping away portions of her previous work. Just when it seemed like the restless, pale and balding creatures might destroy themselves and everything remaining with them, a new crop would appear to start a revolution. But, the lifeless remnants of the previous batch never seemed to fully disappear. The cosmic strength to absorb injury and clear away the messes made diminished. Eventually, after several expansive conflicts, the bewildering competition amassed heaps of debris on the heavenly creator’s face.

At the dawn of her next birthday, her parents displayed looks of horror. Lakes of toxic sludge and smoking mountains of heavy filth nearly covered every inch of their daughter’s skin. They could barely see her worrisome expression and hear her trailing voice as she pleaded, “Father! Mother! Help me! I have lost control! I am falling apart from within! Help me!”

But, they could do nothing short of wiping her from the cosmos. Reflecting upon her own potentially misguided wisdom, Mother wept. Father slapped himself for being so hasty and persistent in the pursuit of pride. In search of other worlds to litter and ravage, some of the daughter’s tiny parasites ventured deep into space with the ships she provided. Following the errant paths of the wasteful machines over their shoulders, the parents retraced the eons of their previous attempts at raising children and wondered how their neighbors, the Andromeda family, fared so well. [What did they truly know about their neighbors? And, did they need to snoop?]

                                                                           *******

“Surprise!” cheered her parents, stirring the young artist from her slumber. The latter rubbed her eyes and followed the visual cues of the former along the curves of her weathered frame. Though she had found herself drowning in darkness and despair only a moment ago, she was now glowing with a renewed sense of peace and a vigor. Gone were the mounds of death and destruction. Those tiny pests she had created were now working together as one happy community, no longer fighting over materials or each other. And, the older forms once thought doomed to extinction were now given their fair share of space to live as Humanity did.

“Happy birthday, my daughter,” said Mother with an earnest smile. “Just look at you, now. So grown-up. So mature. And, to think, a few eons ago, you were ready to throw yourself into the black hole because of some hideous eruption on your face.”

Her father, showing his age with the faintest tint of red in his thinning cheeks and forehead, added, “You have never looked lovelier than you do today, my child. You honor us both. And, look, our neighbors have brought you presents.”

The woozy artist squinted over her parents’ shoulders to see the handful of colorful visitors in the distance, each with tiny surprises headed her way. Neglecting to mention the former identity of the rock chosen as a meeting place, Mother and Father cleared the asteroid field to welcome the guests. Everyone had such a joyous time at the birthday party…

…Except for one tiny solar-powered ship carrying a lone green explorer who steered clear of all the commotion. He didn’t dare venture closer to those he could not yet understand. Instead, he continued his journey through space, watching the universe drift by as he decided what to do with the rest of his life.

 

 

~Writingbolt, 7-26-2014

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