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“...the silence of the night sky is golden...”
    ~ Nick Bostrum

No Martian dewdrop’s given rise
To reasoned thought on silent skies
No well-placed planet’s progeny
Have signaled their far world’s esprit
No doubt we all long to express
The hope that this vast quietness
No way casts doubt that our success
Shall outlive our small globe’s largesse;
No problem was ascendency
Of eukaryotic specialty
No problem was the chemistry
Of shameless sexuality
No problem was dry land’s domain
For lungs and limbs to there attain
No problem was the mammal chain
Through which evolved the human brain;
No problem was the fog of war
In which fought microbes long before
No problem was the fatal nuke
Though some still argue that’s a fluke;
Why take the silence for aught from
The sign the filter’s yet to come
Will nascent high technology
Bring doom to this ontology
Will superbugs or nanobots
Conclude these days of abstract thoughts
Or is it but our own conceit
Our relish for the mental feat
That hoisted by our own petard
Is how we’d wish ourselves die hard;
How much more likely is slow death
Midst shufflers shuffling out of breath
As toxic products make more sales
And toxic thoughts would tell no tales
But those of heartache and depression,
Those of luxury’s accession
Force all others’ bows and scraping
All the world’s resources raping
Till there’s nothing left to keep
The lights alit, then all shall sleep
In silence — who’ll be last to frown
To hear last motors winding down,
Those who had no presentiment
Manipulating sentiment —
Till most all nerds who could maintain
The tools of modern life should drain
Their time on workmanship profuse
Since they’d no chance to reproduce —
Or those who were the nerds themselves
If any such is left who delves
Within to realize silence means
More than cessation of machines,
That life’s like this: it has a phase
Of science that strives to amaze
And when that’s through all settle back
To living strictly in the black
Then tribe and not career will count
While no way will there be to mount
A search for aliens, all who
Are much the same as me and you,
Once flirt with world hegemony
Amid smooth talk of liberty,
Now that’s all past just glad to be
Back to their own lives, truly free,
Though if I’m wrong, then best expect them:
We’ll work out how to detect them.

    April 2014

Thanks always returns

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