Snow on the treeferns. The slow growing variety withstand the frost, wind and snow with little damage to the fronds whereas the fast growing ferns have browned and broken fronds. While the days are getting longer, the weather remains at a hover between zero and under ten. We have a month or so of this weather before spring’s warm breath.
‘If hell is hot, hot, hot, what temperature is heaven I wonder.... Seven or under?’
It could have been Harlan Ellison or Gene Woulfe or another writer who prefaced a series of science fiction short stories with various takes on the above saying. They’re great.
There’s something about three glasses of wine and the early hours of the morning.
Scientology on the Discovery Channel and how repulsed I am by the belligerent way in which the spokesmen for the ‘Church’ conduct themselves. ‘Clear’ ... hardly. It’s no virtue to be able to talk over those who pose valid questions.
Jump to Rock ‘n roll Goddess who now wears Kabbala red threads ... hmm... you can’t reinvent virginity and aping masturbation with a crucifix would have resulted in an immediate Fatwa if it weren’t for the forbearance of Christianity. What’s the common denominator ... powerful people... looking for ways to justify, maintain and reinvent their power. Harsh ? ... perhaps so. A relative with a bright future believed the rock ‘n roller bullshit and didn’t understand that Goddesses have bodyguards... fourteen year old nubiles don’t. Poor girl only took a few steps off the way before a long term crash and burn. That’s why lyrics matter to me. They can and do have real and profound effect. Words matter.Three glasses of wine probably reinforces the feeling.
I spent $5 on a digital download of a book called ‘Alien Interview’ which presents itself as a faithful record of an army nurse’s ‘interviews’ with a surviving alien from the Roswell crash. I found myself scanning rather than reading and doing so with a sinking heart. If this is truth then heaven help us.
I was fortunate enough to have my early teenage years without T.V. and, when science fiction appeared on my literary horizons, I was captivated enough to go A - Z through our local library. By the time I had read Dune, I’d long left the ‘Cowboys and Indians in Space’ type of fiction for short stories which bend reality in a paragraph. Harlan Ellison, Ray Bradbury, Fred Hoyle.... many more. ‘Alien Interview’ had no ‘ring of truth’ for me. Just another feeble idea of a Universal Empire versus ... well ..... someone elses version. Yet another attempt to blend trillions of years and ‘galactic civilizations into a hodge-podge of ‘we are all gods,,,but caught in a Matrix.’
For myself ... aliens ...I’ve had my brief and wondrous sightings and don’t need to be convinced that the Universe is teeming with life. That some have made it here to visit indicates the speed of light is not insurmountable. That they’ve remained officially unannounced makes some ethical sense which is mirrored in our human project to send a probe to pierce the ice of Jupiter's moon, Europa. There’s ethical concern that our probe may infect whatever lies below the ice with microbes from earth.
And yet and yet... the subject remains somehow ‘ridiculous’ in the mainstream media. My dad had a pragmatic take on aliens which included the thought that even if they landed on the White House lawn it wouldn’t affect his moment by moment existence. Can’t argue with that.
I ponder on ‘Alien Interview’ and how the brief audio clip did have ‘a ring of truth’ from the author. How could he justify what I feel is a lie? If he believes his idea of a ‘matrix.’ then another ‘small lie’ to reveal the 'truth' becomes almost irrelevant.
We don’t need more lies.
I believe that exposure to the reality of the vastness of ‘it all’ and to the underlying and universal brotherhood of life may improve the way in which the human race co-exists but that idea may be idealistic clap-trap. That’s the problem with belief. It’s quite different to knowledge.
If aliens can’t understand laughing with delight then we’re unique in this universe in a wonderful way. Personally I hope that they love Monty Python, Blazing Saddles, Flying High and all the other absurdities and subtleties of humour which reveal the winding path to the heart of the human condition.
It’s too cold to do more than fetch the milk and be thankful that I’m not a cow in a field. Moo to you too.