What God, Chapter 4

The next installment of What God. [Chapter 3 found here]

Some things don’t bear explanation. Every cop there was wondering who could have managed to tear Kraden apart like that. I was wondering how his wife and daughter could have stood to listen to him scream. 50 people in this house combing it for evidence and only 1 paramedic taking care of the two women outside wrapped in heat blankets

I walked out of the garage, past a few buckets full of sick and a few more expensive cars. Ms. Kraden sat in the back of the ambulance with her daughter. The wife sat with a face of stone, her daughter was beside her shivering and breathing oxygen from a tank.

“Ms. Kraden, I’m detective Grant-“

She even sounded stone, “Someone already took my statement, detective.” I was glad that at least somebody had taken some time away from the bloodbath in the living room carpet. Messes like that tended to occupy the attention of men in my position. I had no wish to spend more time in there than I had to.

“I know. I’m going to ask you to go through it again.” It was the worst part of the job; asking someone to relive what they had gone through. But repeated tellings of the incident can often reveal more than good forensics. Every time you make someone retell a story they process what they saw and and heard, leaving out the unimportant bits and dwelling on the more important ones.

“He came in late. He often did. Because of work.”  Ms. Kraden didn’t believe herself but I let her continue, “He came in. He cursed a bit, I thought he stubbed his toe. I was upstairs sleeping. He then started talking, like he was on the phone. Then he started yelling, something like ‘I didn’t have anything to do with that, I left the company, how should I know’ then the screaming started.” I was marking all of this down when she stopped. I let her breath, studying my notes.

“They said it must have been more than one” It was the daughter.

I looked to Ms. Kraden for permission, but she was staring off into space. “What do you mean?”

“When they were talking there was only two sets of footsteps. My dads and the other persons.” She went back to the oxygen. I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling.

“Did you hear him speak? Did he do anything else? the other man?” But I still had to ask. This was about more than Kraden.

“I only heard the footsteps. It could have been anyone.” She looked terrified, holding onto the oxygen mask like it was the only thing keeping her here.

I let them be, thanking them both. I told them I would keep in touch. It was a lie, but lies are comforting.

We have two scenarios. Either Kraden saw someone he knew well enough to know exactly why they were there, or the attacker delivered their message without speaking.

I went back to the living room and started looking around. A number of techs started trying to call for my attention but I waved them off. “Was there any paper recovered?” I asked the room. None of them answered. “It can be blank, a scrap, almost anything. Hell, I’ll take a whiteboard.” That seemed to help them along. A small tech walked up and passed me a blood-covered pad in an evidence bag. I gloved up, pulled it from the bag and grabbed a nearby pencil. The old tricks still worked. I shaded the top of the pad, the only part that wasn’t soaked in blood. In that I saw a relief of the last thing that had been written there. “Where is She” in bold, blocky print.

I got someone with a camera to document and had the pad sealed back up. I then went outside and threw up.


Devil’s House, Excerpt 2

This is the second excerpt from “Devil’s House”, a Novella that will take you to hell and back. Excerpt One Found Here

Hell Is Other Waiting Rooms

I woke up in a warm room to the soft oompah of New Orlean’s Swing. I opened my eyes to look up at a managerial spackle cieling. I was in a waiting room on a rough nap carpet. I groaned and got to my feet. There were no doors. The walls had recreations of dutch skyscapes and impressionist lilies. There were a few low tables scattered around with pamphlets laid out on them.

I walked over and picked one up, “So You’re In Hell… What Now?”

I wasn’t really that surprised. I knew this day would come. I knew what I signed up for and I was ready for it so I settled down in a chair and started to find out what the rest of my damnation would look like. So I cracked open the paper when I heard a voice

“That doesn’t apply to you, actually” I hadn’t noticed when She arrived or what door through which she’d suddenly appeared- I waited for her to continue. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but-”

“I’m Dead?” It seemed like the likely explanation.

“Well… no” And apparently it wasn’t

“But I’m in Hell”

“Yes”

“But I’m not dead”

“Yes”

And now for the more difficult question: “So why am I in Hell?”

“Well” She started, “You’re an idiot.” You can say one thing about Hell: Its brutally honest.

“Was it because I stole from Satan?” I mean, it did seem like a good idea at the time.

She nodded, looking at me like I tried to push a door that said pull.

Something nagged at me, “So I’m not dead, but I am in Hell?”

“Yes”

“Why?” Because, you know, it seemed like a simple enough question

She sighed and turned her hand at an invisible door knob, opening a Matisse that stretched into a door. I felt a little like a drunk kitten in a gothic wonderland, innocent enough to just accept the impossible but not coherent enough to create a simile. I gathered myself, nabbed a pamphlet, and jogged to catch up.

“So,” Caught in the forbidding vortex of awkward silence, “Whats your name?”

“Lily” She didn’t even look over at me, and kept walking. The hallway was lined with doors whose glass windows were the transparent backs of canvasses. Each room was labeled 666. I chuckled, earning a straightforward glare from Lily. This was a long hallway.

“So whats in all these rooms? More people like me?”

“No”

“Dead people?”

“Yes” She had such eloquence

At long last an old elevator door came to view at the hallway’s end. She pressed the button and we waited. Again in silence. So I Asked: “You aren’t going to ask me my name?”

“No I am not”

“Do you already know it?”

“Nope” This was going wonderfully.

“You don’t even care.”

“Yes.”

So I stood there and wondered why it was taking so long for the elevator to arrive. “Well… I’m Scratch.” I didn’t bother sticking out my hand

She grunted, a second later the elevator dinged and we stepped inside to badly played bluegrass. We both grimmaced.

“Why is the music-”

“Its Hell,” She snapped.

So after 15 minutes of, well, Hell, the elevator dinged again and she pulled aside the accordian doors and stepped through. I followed. The lobby beyond was massive and more hell-like than my quaintly beuarucratic waiting room. The marble and granite was a deep maroon with jet lines running through it. Decorative stalactites hung from the domed ceiling. All around us bussled the diverse and disheveled dead, led around by men and women in crisp suits. The Charons of Grand Central Styx.

At the far end of the lobby, flanked by large staircases leading down, is a foreboding set of double doors with a sign that read simple, “1”. Signs on the stairs said, in a too too cheery manner, “Levels 2-?”.

“Keep up!” I hadn’t realized I had stopped and had nearly forgotten Lily was standing there, I jogged again to keep up.

“Where” I paused for a moment before continuing. Some questions in the world you really don’t need the answers to, but even still you want them.

“Choose whichever level you want”

“Really?”

“Look, you were in a room, I brought you down here, you don’t have an assignment so you go where you want, I don’t care.” She scowled a little and turned heel and walked away.

I called after her, “What do I do?”

“That’s not my problem”

With that she was lost in the crowd. Then I did what any flesh-and-blood man with a pulse in Hell would do. I strode out into the first layer of hell and hoped to God I could find a bar.


Online Dating Turned Me Evil

Prologue:

I like to imagine that I kept to my principles in the end… I mean- I didn’t. But I like to imagine.

Act 1:

First thing to know: I haven’t been single in about 6 years. I have not been single for long. I haven’t tried to meet new people outside of school in a long time- which was why OKCupid and Tinder seemed like a good idea. I ended my last relationship on good (great) terms, and this might be part of the problem

Interlude:

Its great when you can end a relationship on good terms. Like the adults we know we are. But the human brain has a conditioned response to sudden loneliness- it wants to pitch and fit and throw a tantrum and not be lonely anymore. So when your brain wants to do this but you have no reason to, you start to look for an outlet.

Act 2:

It started with Tinder. I mean, it all seemed perfectly normal at first. I swipe right and I swipe left. It even comes with helpful labels. If you swipe right you see “Like” in friendly green, if you swipe left you see “Nope”.

This is when I should have known things could get bad.

If two people both swipe right on each other’s pictures, you get to “Chat”. Not being able to connect with people easily this seemed like a great idea! No need to go through that awkward period of finding out whether someone finds you annoying.

Its a trap.

Not in the beginning- No, Tinder makes you build your own prison. In the beginning you treat the system with respect, you only “Like” the people you’d actually like to talk to. You start to think that the system works. But it doesn’t. And you are why.

Act 3:

The swiping. Oh the Swiping. You start to no look at anything but the first picture, judging everything about a person on first glance. Duck Face? Swipe Left. Bikini Shot? Swipe Right. Every swipe brought me one step closer to hell- turning me into exactly the kind of person I hated. Soon I lost all sense of my principles, and after what seemed like weeks (it was only 2 days) without any matches I just started swiping right every time.

But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t near enough.

Led on by this dark ghost of single life I joined OKCupid.

I could have sworn I heard a thunderclap

Act 4:

It had been almost a week of online dating. I get a few matches: One woman with a boyfriend who told me I looked like Peter Dinklage, another I scared off by asking bluntly what she was looking for.

Then on OKCupid I tried messaging people. Every awkward joke and question was another brick added to my cell in Hades.

What kind of person had I become, Silently judging the attractiveness of strangers. And I grid to be fair to those I didn’t- but only at first. Soon I fell even further. I judged harshly and swiftly.

If I was a super villain with an origin story, this is how I would have turned evil.

Act 5:

And this is where this tragedy takes a turn for the lighthearted. You see, I thought I was evil in the same way that Kite-Man thinks he is evil. Yes he robbed banks and stole money and jewels from museums- but then Kite-man saw The Joker beat Jason Todd to death with a crowbar, and realized that he was just an average man who stole things for a job.

I started to realize that the bar was set so low with men and online dating that I was somehow still considered a good person. I hadn’t sent any unsolicited dick-picks or told a girl how “Hawt” she is. I was middle-of-the-pack evil- Stealing candy from babies evil.

So really, this is the story of how online dating turned me kind of evil.


Excerpt: Devil’s House

A small short story I’ve been tooling around with: A Work in Progress that was abandoned a few years back. I think I am going to try and pick it back up. 

 

Prologue
The Devil lived lonely on the top floor of the Chrysler Building. In the Devil’s House was the Devil’s Kitchen, the Devil’s Bed, the Devil’s Radio, and sitting lonely and cold atop the Devil’s Cold Fireplace was my lonely Soul. I wanted it back.

 Exit Frying Pan

The Devil’s House looked nothing like I imagined. I don’t quite know what I was expecting, maybe a little flair. Brimstone, or Maroon Velvet, or the tortured Souls of the Innocent. I didn’t even know I was in the right place when I dropped down from the roof of the Chrysler and through the window. This place looked like it belonged to a Brownstone family in Brooklyn, not to the Lord of Hell, the Fallen Angel and the Morning Star.

The Devil’s Kitchen had a GE stove and a brand-name ice-box, his bed was an colonial four-poster, his radio was playing something baroque. His fireplace was warm with embers. The only thing I was right about was my small soul swimming in a jar above the Devil’s hearth.

It was quite like a fish, and swam around its jar like a fishbowl. I don’t know if it recognized me, but I recognized it. There was a hole in my chest that needed it back.

I went to grab it, having to stretch a little to put my fingers around the bowl. When I had just started lifting it a Voice behind me said, “That’s not yet yours to take”. It sounded like sulfur jazz.

With that, I was pushed into the devil’s open hearth, catching only a glance of the angel-wing band around his finger and a small whiff of cinnamon aftershave. I fell for far too long.

Into Fire
Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil so that he could play his guitar. At the age of 27 he died alone in his room. The Devil came to collect.

I made my deal the same way he did, alone at a crossroads on midnight in a new moon sky. I wanted to forget my pain. I was 22.

I don’t remember his face, I just remember the Cinnamon and the Voice. A voice that burned the nose and a smell that tasted of chocolate. He told me that 10 years without pain was not a fair price for my soul.

I asked if he needed more

He said it was too much

I said I didn’t care

We made the deal.

I didn’t feel the pain anymore.

I didn’t feel the pain for 10 years.

Then the day came when the Devil would collect. I was ready, I had sold everything I owned and said my goodbyes to everyone left I ever loved. I waited in an empty room for the Devil to come and take me to Hell. He never did. I waited there until they turned my water off and my stomach shriveled to the size of a raisin. Though I wasted away and my lips were cracked and dry I did not die.

The Devil never came.

I went to jump off the roof.

I didn’t die.

So I took matters into my own hands. I found where the Devil lived, I found where he kept my Soul. If I wasn’t going to be collected and if I couldn’t die, I damn well wanted it back.

So I tried to steal it from the Devil.


The Poor Everyone’s Guide to Finding Something, Anything, in Life

Here is the first lesson: 

The World Isn’t Fair. 

Its not. We wish it was, we wish we got something for just being here, we wish we just go something even for working our asses off. But there is no guarantee. Hell, there is even a very small chance. The disparity between what we want in life and what we get is usually so large that we can look down and see clouds and birds. That dream job is usually a pipe dream, we will never afford that car, or that house. We have one hundred dreams, and the sad truth is that most of us will only reach about five of those. So what do we do? Do we have small dreams, and live small lives? Why set ourselves up for failure if we know we will fail?

 

So, in light of that cheery fucking thought, here is Lesson Number 2:

The World Isn’t Fair, And it Doesn’t Need to Be. 

The fact is, To a certain point, we have to take what life gives us. And we are so wrapped up in what the world gives us that we forget that we can take whatever the hell we want from the world. 

 

I thought I was going to put more into this, but I don’t know if I need to. The world has a tendency of dealing shit hands to whoever it damn well pleases. People chalk this up to luck, Karma, or retribution, but it doesn’t matter. Its not worth it to begrudge your stance in life. Find something worth having, and latch on to it. If it floats away, find something else. 

There really isn’t much more to say. Find something in life that you are willing to love. Find it, and love it.


The Abridged Challenge

Small Talk 

This one is too easy, I swear. I mean, you ask the question, what the hell can make small talk interesting. Well here it is:

Humans evolved as a social species. The development of language is its own fascinating bundle of fascination, but what strikes me about small talk is its purpose. If you meet someone at a cocktail party, especially someone you don’t know too well, you ask them about their job, their hometown, and, of course, the weather (This, in major cities, is relegated to traffic, the urban weather). People look at small-talk as useless dribble, information less nonsense we resort to when we have nothing good to talk about. I don’t usually resort to absolute, but those people are wrong.

A great deal of information about social compatibility is exchanged in Small Talk. It helps to look at small talk as Human Butt-Sniffing. Dogs, when they great each other for the first time. First: they will smell each other’s noses. This serves as an indicator of mood for both animals. Second, they will sniff each other’s asses. Why? to tell the gender, pack status, and cleanliness of the other dog. It is an exchange of social data. Humanity has evolved its small-talk to include the basic social data. Who do you know, what Friends, if any, do we share, how much money do you make, and what kind of a person are you (Do I want to be your friend).

While social posturing and small talk may seem useless, try approaching it with this in mind. It also helps those less socially adept to function in those group situations. When in doubt, ask questions and gather info. People not only love to talk about themselves, but the more social information that is shared, the more of a subconscious connection is felt.

Homework

Right. Everyone’s favorite topic. Homework. THe bane of the weekend and afternoon, scourge of the high-schooler, and joke of the undergrad. A large subject that has been beaten to death by the likes of my peers. So lets take a different tack.

The main component of learning a skill is repetition, and this is where the homework paradigm comes into play. Sheets of simple math, grammar, spelling. The hundreds of calculus problems that professors will assign to drill the basics into your head. This is where I will take my contention

Tell me if this sounds familiar: An elementary school teacher with 40 kids has 2 hours to teach the basics of adding fractions with different denominators, in between trying to calm the class down and an ill-timed fire drill, she only has 45 minutes to teach some very important fundamentals. After blasting through the materiel, she sends the children home with their math worksheet because she has another 4 furrow days to go this semester alone, and has to keep her curriculum up to speed, or they won’t be ready for the standardized test at the end of the year that dictates how much funding the school gets. So the children go home, not really understanding the materiel, and try to complete it, not knowing how. Some get help from their parents, but most don’t. They try to complete the homework, don’t know how, build bad habits by “Incorrect Repetition”. Learning a skill depends on correct repetition, incorrect repetition breeds incorrect skills.

This is a small diatribe on the fact that we need more educational funding, and some teaching methods need to be changed. But how are we supposed to change education?

Homework is necessary. We hate it (and some don’t), but its true. What needs to change is the nature of the homework. The current paradigm is to lecture in class, and to assign the repetition outside of class. This is effective as long as the students completely understand the method, which they often don’t. It might be more effective if the repetition was guided in class, allowing the students to perform the correct repetition. This also allows you to introduce the idea outside of class, developing critical thinking skills, and intellectual independence. To put it simply, Have a student learn outside of class as much as they do inside of class. Make intellectual exploration a habit outside of the classroom.

Robert Rauschenberg, White Painting (Three Panel), 1951

http://www.sfmoma.org/explore/collection/artwork/25855#ixzz22V4P8YQW

Take a moment to imagine what would happen if a painter from history happened upon this painting. Michelangelo might be intrigued, Van Gogh could be somewhat disgusted at its simplicity, Leonardo would be in awe of its technical proficiency. But all artists before the last 150 years would never have seen a painting like this receive recognition, much less be painted at all.

More than a 1000 years ago, it would have been nigh on impossible to achieve such a smooth and perfect white. The technology didn’t exist. Canvas was rough, oil paints were of poor quality, and keeping it such a pure white would have been next to impossible in most studios. In fact, going back to antiquity, the easiest way to achieve a smooth white was to polish the proper type of marble or granite to a sheen, and hope it doesn’t have any faults or mineral lines. This simple painting illustrates the technical proficiency of our time.

But this painting is more than that. It is an identifier of one of our species’ most unique qualities. Meta-thought. The analyzation of abstract ideas as their own entity. Art was about recreation and imitation, Landscapes, God-forms, theological idolatry. Then, suddenly, Artists started changing their view. They created altered versions of reality. Impressionists, surrealists, abstract artists. Then, somewhere along the line, the alteration of reality was surpassed by art that was completely independent of the world it inhabited. It didn’t mimic anything, it didn’t reference anything, it became art that reflected thought-form. Our reality became our mental construct of reality. And more than anything, this is what makes this very dull, very minimalist painting interesting. How in the world did we get from cave paintings to 3 white sheets of canvas?

Being an Office Receptionist

This isn’t interesting? I mean, it already seems to be to me, but let me spell it out for you, since you asked.

First, look at the prevalence of the service economy in this day and age. If you go back just 200 years, there wasn’t much of an economy around supporting the needs of others. You could carry packages or be a servant. Other skills, like service manufacture, required the creation of physical goods. Nowadays, there is an entire economic ecosystem of people’s whose job it is to coordinate, organize, or communicate. Office Receptionists, who write memos, and fill date-books, are just the tip of the iceberg. Someone from 200 years ago would look at jobs like that, and would likely laugh. “what kind of a job,” Says blacksmith joe, “Requires you to sit and talk to people all day”. But the fact is, without the service economy, we could not survive. As society becomes more complex, we have more of a need for people to organize it all, prevent it from collapsing. Office Receptionists form the basis of modern society.

But then we move on. Office receptionists are not only the cornerstone of modern society, but they also lead lives of intrigue. We are a society that thrives on social interaction, and, to a smaller extent, gossip. I am not lending any credence at this point to general archetypes, I am only using them because we as a society use them. Anyone who works HR or Reception in an office building has a better idea of what is going on in the office than anyone else in that building. This is because it is their job to deal with the people, to organize it all, and to know what to say to who to get what they need. Social information is power.

The receding Hairlines of Congressional Aids: A Study

Hair-loss, for some odd reason, is inextricably linked with stress. Which, when constantly getting texted pictures of a congressman’s junk on capital hill, is fairly high. Hair loss, in our society, is almost a sign of weakness. One can be bald and still be strong, and one can have hair, but if one is in between the two, we suddenly see weakness.

Its funny, in this way. We have had an African-American president, a Catholic President, and with any luck we are well on our way to having 2 X chromosomes sitting in the oval office. We haven’t yet elected an openly balding president. Can you think of one?

Well, there is Benjamin Franklin, I’ll admit. But he was elected in an era where wigs were the commonplace, and unlike most of the founding fathers, he was shoved far back to the 100 dollar bill, behind all of his peers and contemporaries. His name is even being redacted from history by a few southern and midwest states who don’t like his policies.


Poop, Abridged

I am going to say something that is not said enough in the world.

Holy SHIT… thats cool.

Genuinely. Shit is cool.

Wait… even SHIT is cool. Digested food is damn cool, and by god, its poop. Poop is awesome!

And why is poop awesome? Because not only is it the product of billions of years of digestive evolution, it spawns ecosystems in and of itself. Dung beetles aren’t just a punchline, they are a species of beetle that thrives on the digested grasses and plants of the savannah. They gather up their stash in a ball, hop on their front legs, and roll their ball of dung hundreds and hundreds of feet back to their burrow. How in the hell did this behavior evolve? is this behavior learned, or has it been so repeated that it is coded into DNA?

What about our relation to poop? Look at how it has evolved into our culture. Toilets became a mainstay as early as Sumer. We separated our waste disposal from the rest of society. Put it in the corner or behind walls, following the behavior of most other mammals. Its funny that as Cities and Communities grew, the propensity to separate our waste from our streets decreased. We went from Rome, and their advanced system of toilets and baths, to the renaissance, where chamber pots were emptied into streets and baths were practically prohibited by the church. Then we made thrones for our pooping, books surrounding it. Our waste eventually became a joke, a psychological symptom or precursor to disorder, something people laughed at or were ashamed of. There are vast segments of our culture that have developed around this one single subject. Not only are there papers, articles, and novels written around the subject, It is a common and unifying factor for all cultures in the world. Each and every culture has a way they deal with their waste, and Each one has its own vast history and hugely complicated social norms.

And that is just the abridged version of Poop.

Take any subject on earth has Infinite Academic Resolution. You can continue choosing any part of any subject and pull up a wealth of information. If someone hasn’t already written something on it already, then someone will, eventually.

So, Tell Me. Why in the hell are you bored. Oh, I see you, sitting at home, surfing the internet, looking for something new. I see through your charade. You think there is nothing interesting?

Here is a Challenge: Send me some subject, any subject, and I will attempt to pull out something fascinating within it. Really. Send me ANYTHING, and I will find some small seed of inspiration in it. Even better, I will inspire some seed of interest in you. Try Me.


Mutual Self-Interest

This week, 4 athletes marched under the Olympic Flag. 4 Athletes whose countries were not able or allowed to enter the Games, Three of them from a municipality of the netherlands, and the fourth is a refugee of Sudan. 4 Athletes competing not for any one country, but instead to prove their worth on a global stage, under a global flag. The Olympic foundation, for all of its faults, provides a way to bring the world together for a fair competition. Even more than that, for a peaceful competition. Makes one wonder.

Maybe dreaming of world peace is not as childish and useless as we thought. Oh, I know, we all dream of utopian society, and of somehow creating a completely fair and just world, but we are taught from a young age to be afraid, and to put up with injustice, because its just the way things work sometimes. In fact, any discussion of world peace is dismissed as childish immediately because we are taught that such things are the product of either totalitarian rule, or the wet dream of a freshman poli-sci major.

We assume the world peace means that everyone is well fed, all wars are over, and unicorns shit their rainbows across the sky. But realistically, is there such a thing? Is the dream of world peace too far fetched? Or can world peace mean something different?

So lets abandon our central term, first off. World peace has too many negative connotations and doesn’t quite accurately portray the goals included. So lets toss something more definable into the mix. how about Mutual Self-Interest?

Thats in interesting set of words. Self-interest implies a small portion of selfishness that cuts far short of greed or malice. By making it mutual, the self-interest is for the entire group, not just the one. Society in any species is spawned around groups of Mutual Self-Interest. Dolphins have pods, Wolfs have Packs, and Humans, in any situation, will group with like-minded individuals to create a system of Mutual Self-Interest.

This started with packs. Humanity exited Northern Africa and grouped into packs, finding that having many trumped having few. Then we settled down, built cities, built nations, and populated a world. In fact, in most species, behavioral evolution occurs far before physiological evolution, societies develop and regulate themselves as a course of behavioral evolution. And as Ecological Boundaries expand, it could be safe to say that humanity will regress to its older societal modes. That is: maybe what we need to enter into Mutual Self-Interest, as a planet, is to have something vast out in the distance. Something to make us stand next to a stranger and say, “I guess we have a lot to get done, now.”


The Galactic Entity

 

So I’m a little obsessed with the fantastical and speculative, I admit. Just bear with me, here. I have talked a bit about scope, and I think I should expand on that idea a bit. 

An author once mused that the human organism was just a collection of like-minded cells conspiring for survival. He went on to say that the earth was exactly the same thing. The earth, being a collection of specialized organisms (for cinematic value, these could also be called cells), is alive. The earth is a collection of like-minded organisms conspiring for survival. Now here is where it gets weird (read: Awesome). Imagine a thriving galactic economy with hundreds or thousands of species, thousands of small component cells, all conspiring for survival. Suddenly an entire galaxy is a form of life, much like a coral reef. Its a geographically massive life form filled with Cells conspiring for their survival. 

Life ascends from the microscopic, to the macroscopic, to the massive. But, as we are not interacting with any other theoretical life in the galaxy, we are one singular ecological entity.

At this point it might be helpful to descend into metaphor. When I say organism or ecological entity, there is an assumption that I am saying that the earth has an inherent intelligence, and can make decisions. The earth in itself is a simple organism, a small bacterial colony. 

So imagine, if you will, your stereotypical Protean Sludge-pool. Filled with anywhere from 2 to millions of types of simple cells. Every single one of these cells is vying for a few things: Food, Sunlight, and biological dominance. This process will continue for a while, often with the majority of other cell types dying out as one type gains dominance. Throughout this process, cells will become more complex, adapting as best as possible to their environment until one gains the ability to travel to the next Protean Sludge-pool. 

If you haven’t figured it out, this protean sludge-pool is earth. Big twist, I know. Organisms will vie for dominance within their given ecological boundaries until they are developed enough to expand their ecological boundary. A bacteria will escape its pool, a fish walks out of the ocean, man walks on the moon.

This has led me to somewhat of an interesting thought. Intelligence is not a necessary precursor to expanding ecological boundaries. The truth is, the more complex a cell is, the less hardy it becomes. My first thought goes to extremophiles. Small, nearly indestructible cells living in ice, acid, and right on the edge of the earth’s mantle. A meteorite from mars was found to have fossilized organisms on it. These may have been introduced to it after impact, but it brings to mind another method of jumping the ecological boundary. 

So lets introduce a hypothetical organism to this exercise. Take star system BI5ht. A yellow sun, with a decaying asteroid belt, and a small planet with a thick water based atmosphere, and a high presence of sulfur, methane and silicon. This planet develops cellular life, and about 2 billion years into their evolution, when complex cellular life starts to develop, the asteroid belt starts to decay into the planet, kicking up chunks of this small life-bearing planet into the solar system. among them, a small plant-like organism that uses sunlight and feeds on water. This small organism takes to its new home in the decaying asteroid belt, spreading with each new asteroid collision until it has populated any piece of rock that has any bit of ice on it. 

So we now have a scenario in which an organism has expanded its ecological boundary to the solar system. This is not assuming an direct control of the process, something that only intelligence gives to expansion (and only barely). Is it possible for such an organism to spread to the galactic level? with a little bit of luck, yes. 

 

Our galaxy is populated by a vast number of comets, asteroids, and free-floating planetoids that have been tossed from a solar orbit into the vast darkness of space, and all it will take is for one of these to pass through our BI5ht system, and through another system, then all of a sudden, our hardy little parasite has increased its ecological boundaries. 

So moving out to the big picture, we realize how big this picture actually is. Evolution is a mechanism for an organism to grow beyond its ecological boundaries, and adapt to them. Intelligence is a feature of this. We needed the ability to analyze situations and pass down knowledge. We made tools to adapt our environment to our needs, and then we learned to create clothes and used other methods to react to swift environmental change. Then we expanded our reach, made complex societies to better deal with the world, then these societies did what any organism with multiple variants does, they battled for dominance. Then we started to expand our grasp, seeking resources like simple cells search for sunlight or food. Now, with any luck, we are starting to find our ecological balance, becoming a complex ecosystem. 

Expansion is just part of our evolutionary imperative. We must go on to find new resources, to continue building. If we are lucky, ecological balance is also an evolutionary imperative, and as society evolves there is less infighting, and a greater need for mutual self-interest. 


Beatiful Earth

Most first contact books centralize around a large mysterious alien force landing on, and subsequently enforcing whatever laws they choose on planet east. That, or we declare war against them. This assumes 2 things. First: that humanity is not in the forefront of technological or martial technology, and Second: That technology is the only factor that would be considered in measuring a nation’s wealth. 

 

So lets turn the tables, assume instead that we are discovered by an alien civilization who reveres us, instead of wanting to conquer or assimilate us. a complex culture, such as ours, is not necessary for the creation of an advanced building civilization. Which could leave our little sphere of pyramids, dragons, flood myths and epic heroes a rarity among many thousands of galaxies with an unspecified number of civilizations. There is no doubt in my mind that we are not the only life in this universe, or even in this galaxy. The question arises when we consider what form of life other building civilizations will take. 

 

At this point I should define some terms. Civilizations can take different forms, and always contain at least one of the following (this goes above and beyond the necessities for an organism to evolve into a civilization, this list merely defines the types of civilization that could arise):

 

TYPES:

1. Building

Civilizations that will focus on creation and building. Imagine the mayans or egyptians. Usually rich in resources, and will supplement the building through another means, be it cultural, martial, or acquisitional

2. Martial

THe huns, for instance. These tend to be very short-lived civilizations, as they only bond together with a central martial figure. Without any martial figure, there will be significant in-fighting. 

3. Cultural

Though this is a broad and over-arching term, many civilizations will create and uphold an undefined resource known as culture. these civilizations are often very focused on their own sociological system, and the bio-forms that inhabit it. 

4. Stagnant

Civilizations in a resource-rich environment without outside mitigating factors will stagnate. many stne-age tribes are this way, having had no reason to change, or any major change in environment. 

5. Acquisitional

THese civilizations depend on the acquisition of other civilizations to spur change. This is often a modifier to another factor. Egypt was a cultural civilization, but was acquisitional. It didn’t resist cultural change by outside means. Martial civilizations, found for instance in the early days of the first Islamic Empire, conquered many different places, but did not too much force a cultural change, it assimilated the result into the empire. 

 

 

So how does this effect the types of civilization we might see, or how they react to us? At this point, lets look at something called sociological scope. Where does a society stop thinking about things. THose stone age societies never consider the world outside of a 20 mile radius, and anything outside of that is reduced to myth and legend. Our nation, as a society, thinks on a global scale. Recently, we have started to think in terms of our planet, and its satellite, which we proceeded to land on. Then, as a civilization, or sociological scope got larger we sent things to mars, and then to other planets in our solar system. Scope is best represented by the furthest direct source of information discernible by the society. Our scope, as a global society, extends as far as Voyager, but is aware as far as sight extends. However, due to the speed of light, the visual information we see is outdated, and does not count as active informational data. 

 

So what causes a civilization to extend its scope? For building civilizations, this is quite easy. Resources are depleted, and more can be found beyond the boundaries of the planet or solar system. Often exploration is performed for the sake of exploration, which could be indicative of a cultural civilization. Expansion via space travel is also found in any civilization that has outgrown its mother planet, and needs to continue populating a separate area. 

 

Acquisitional and martial civilizations will not expressly take to exploration unless their scope grows to include another civilization worth interacting with. 

 

It is also worth mentioning that no civilization perfectly follows an archetype. Every civilization will change over the years, and has tendencies that relate to each archetype. You also cannot assume any alien civilization is completely homogenous. It is very likely that any sufficiently advanced civilization will evolve so that it is as diverse, if not more than, ours. 

 

 

There is a certain stigma that comes with discussing the ins and outs of first contact. Belief in some sort of alien life is not only toted by the odd roswellite, intent of the fact that they were probed. Many respected scientists know it is possible, and even likely. There was even an equation made (Look up the drake equation, folks), that attempts to determine the likelihood of intelligent life. But the question has to be, when we do make first contact, how will they look at us. and what will they see.