Sephtyan
March 25th, 2013, 04:33 AM
Shitty. Quite so, in fact, and I can only see it getting shittier.
I'm not talking about our economy or the state of environment or any of that hullabaloo. I'm referring directly to the nature of us as a species. People have asked the question of what sets us apart from other species before, but I've figured out one response that I haven't come across before: That which sets us apart from other species is that we keep our weak from dying, and even allow them to contribute to the gene pool. We certainly don't exercise enough to allow us to survive in the wilderness by our selves, and our strong genes are now so diluted that they pop up perhaps once every couple generations, even in those families with prominent strength genes.
This worries me more than it probably should. I mean, we are sitting on this large rock out in the middle of nowhere, floating around this ocean of void. Not only are we kept at a relatively close distance to a large fiery mass of constant nuclear fusion, but we are actually kept alive by it. We also happen to be sitting on a couple billion tons of rapidly moving, super-heated magma, and we're separated from it by a plate of cooled rock thin enough to allow some of this molten earth to push past us and onto the surface.
The nearest place that we've found that could potentially hold life is far enough away that, even if we used the fastest form of transport currently available, it would take quite a few of our human lifetimes to reach it. There is next to no chance of meeting other life anytime in the next thousand years, barring the chance of an unknown and vastly superior lifeform contacting us first. If we as a species died right now, all of us, absolutely no one aside from us would care. We're pretty much alone in the universe, just the accidental happenings of random occurrences. In fact, just to add a sense of how alone we'd be; if every single human were slowly tortured to death, still no one would care. We'd die off, and the large rock we inhabited would simply continue to float around in the endless void, until the time came when the sun ran out of resources with which to keep itself aflame, after which the rock we formerly inhabited would float off into the abyss in a single direction, until it finally crashed into something.
Well, I feel hopelessly depressed now.
I'm not talking about our economy or the state of environment or any of that hullabaloo. I'm referring directly to the nature of us as a species. People have asked the question of what sets us apart from other species before, but I've figured out one response that I haven't come across before: That which sets us apart from other species is that we keep our weak from dying, and even allow them to contribute to the gene pool. We certainly don't exercise enough to allow us to survive in the wilderness by our selves, and our strong genes are now so diluted that they pop up perhaps once every couple generations, even in those families with prominent strength genes.
This worries me more than it probably should. I mean, we are sitting on this large rock out in the middle of nowhere, floating around this ocean of void. Not only are we kept at a relatively close distance to a large fiery mass of constant nuclear fusion, but we are actually kept alive by it. We also happen to be sitting on a couple billion tons of rapidly moving, super-heated magma, and we're separated from it by a plate of cooled rock thin enough to allow some of this molten earth to push past us and onto the surface.
The nearest place that we've found that could potentially hold life is far enough away that, even if we used the fastest form of transport currently available, it would take quite a few of our human lifetimes to reach it. There is next to no chance of meeting other life anytime in the next thousand years, barring the chance of an unknown and vastly superior lifeform contacting us first. If we as a species died right now, all of us, absolutely no one aside from us would care. We're pretty much alone in the universe, just the accidental happenings of random occurrences. In fact, just to add a sense of how alone we'd be; if every single human were slowly tortured to death, still no one would care. We'd die off, and the large rock we inhabited would simply continue to float around in the endless void, until the time came when the sun ran out of resources with which to keep itself aflame, after which the rock we formerly inhabited would float off into the abyss in a single direction, until it finally crashed into something.
Well, I feel hopelessly depressed now.