They’re made out of Meat by Terry Bisson

This is one of my favorite sci-fi stories

“They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“There’s no doubt about it. We picked several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”

“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars.”

“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”

“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”

“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they’re made out of meat.”

“Maybe they’re like the Orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage.”

“Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take too long. Do you have any idea the life span of meat?”

“Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the Weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.”

“Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads like the Weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.”

“No brain?”

“Oh, there is a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat!”

“So… what does the thinking?”

“You’re not understanding, are you? The brain does the thinking. The meat.”

“Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!”

“Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you getting the picture?”

“Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.”

“Finally, Yes. They are indeed made out meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.”

“So what does the meat have in mind?”

“First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the universe, contact other sentients, swap ideas and information. The usual.”

“We’re supposed to talk to meat?”

“That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there? Anyone home?’ That sort of thing.”

“They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?”

“Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.”

“I thought you just told me they used radio.”

“They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.”

“Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?”

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in the quadrant, without prejudice, fear, or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?”

“I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say?” `Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?”

“Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.”

“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the universe.”

“That’s it.”

“Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you have probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?”

“They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.”

“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.”

“And we can mark this sector unoccupied.”

“Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?”

“Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.”

“They always come around.”

“And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the universe would be if one were all alone.”

Please visit Terry Bissons web site, buy his books and read some more of his fine work!

terrybisson.com

There is Magic Inside You

There is Magic Inside You

Cast glass tile with glass drawings made at Pilchuck Glass School in the summer of 2008.
Click here to see my video of glass casting.

My arms are stretched out behind me, cool wind breezes over my face. I am soaring through the air, feeling very contented. Behind me are 7 people, we are flying in a V-shaped formation, just like birds do. I am leading the way. We fly for a long time, enjoying the day and the freedom of being in the sky. Nobody speaks, no need to.

I look down and see the ocean. Like a band of mighty kingfishers we glue our arms to our sides, angle downwards, pick up an exorbitant  speed and plunge headfirst into the ocean.

We slice through the surface and then we are flying in the ocean! The water is clear and comfortable. I breathe in salt water, which  feels soft and thick, bubbles escape from my nose. I open my mouth to exhale and water flows out.

After a while I look up and notice there is ice on the surface of the ocean, I wonder if we should turn around as I am responsible for everyone in the group and don’t want to get stuck, but, it feels ok, so I decide to keep going forward.

I see a bright spot ahead and, as we move towards it, the sea floor moves closer, we are nearing a shore. The bright light is where the ice has stopped forming before getting to the beach, the bright light is the sunshine coming through the water.

We burst out of the ocean and land on the beach. I am standing with my hands on my hips, feeling rather grand surveying the situation – we have arrived in Finland! How fantastic is that? It’s a beautiful day on the beach, the sand is full of shells.

There are people on the beach and they are looking at us with wonder and amazement. A woman approaches, smiles and loudly proclaims “You Are Magic!”

Flying photo from www.osck.wordpress.com

Bad Bank Explained on TAL

photo by Danny

I love “This American Life” with host Ira Glass.

While I have been trying not to give the current economic situation much attention, (see Media Hoax below) I couldn’t help but be curious about just how the banks wound up in Congress asking for a bail-out.

Then Ira did this program on February 27th – making it all pretty easy to understand, and, it’s funny

http://www.thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?sched=1285

The collapse of the banking system explained, in just 59 minutes. Our crack economics team—the guys who explained the mortgage crisis, Alex Blumberg and NPR’s Adam Davidson—are back to help all of us understand the news. For instance, when we talk about an insolvent bank, what does it actually mean, and why are we giving hundreds of billions of dollars to rich bankers who screwed up their own businesses? Also, two guys go to New Jersey to look at a toxic asset.

Also, on C-Span -Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner praises this episode.

link to Piggy Bank image

The Great Media Hoax

I thought this was brilliant.

Bethie, my invisible internet friend, posted this on her blog and was kind enough to allow me to swipe it and post it on mine. Bethie is magic, she can read my thoughts and then she interpolates them into her own jizzy jargon – turning it all literate, interesting and also making it sound much more sensible than my own sputterings on about how all this media negativity is “begetting itself” etc etc etc. and having people look at me even more oddly than usual…ahem.

How does she do this? I have no idea. But if ever I am wondering what it is that I am wondering, I just pop over to her website and WA-LA, there it is. Bethie makes my mind much simpler for me to comprehend. Thank you Bethie.

So, please read on and really, take into account that what she says makes a heap of sense, we DO create our reality by making what we want to be real manifest. Turn off the news and go for a walk by some water. Make that your reality, just for today ok?

Years from now our children and our children’s children will read about it. The great media hoax. Yes, you heard it here first. The great media hoax that says we are living in especially economic “bad”, hard times. They’ll read how millions of people were willing to believe it and how that belief fed on itself and perpetuated the myth that then took form. This is our media and what it projects on the screen is merely a reflection of what we are willing to believe. It is a very literal view on the TV screen that we are willing to give our authority to. How do we do that? By watching it, reading it, listening to it, paying attention to it, lending our agreement to it and ultimately our consent.

What a great mirror it is that reflects how easily we hand over our authority to some unwanted thing by giving our attention and our consent to it. And over time the consent that we repeatedly give to something causes a thing to harden into fact. We forget we have a choice.

Ah, yes, I remember now. I do have a choice. Forget about the great media hoax, this too shall pass. In my everyday life what I want to pay attention to, the question I want to ask myself, especially when I begin to travel down a path that just plain feels yucky – I want to remember this question: What am I giving my consent to? What am I lending my agreement with? And then, deep breath. What do I want to give my attention to? What am I willing to believe? What do I want to give my consent to?

What shall I take to be real in my world today?

Hero’s Gold

Don’t be a spectator on this trip.

There is no worse death than just waiting around.

Set your heart on the hero’s gold,

AND GO.

Rumi

whew, that’s a bit harsh isn’t it?

While it gets me motivated into taking action – by gawd! I am so going to get that “hero’s gold!”  at the other end I get freaked that if I take a break and lie about I am headed towards that “worse death” ! AUCK!
So, I put the nice pic of the dandelion to soften the blow, as it seems to be gently on it’s own way towards whatever “heros’ gold” might be out there, waiting for a dandelion to arrive.

Upside Down World

Tomorrow I am moving to an upside down world where trees have names like Dragon’s Blood.

I’ll walk on my hands, feet to the sky, toenails painted crimson.

At night I’ll sleep in the tree tops where the leaves are as soft as my kitty cats belly.

Here it is, the NEW year, all sparklie and shiny….it could possibly set one to pondering.

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention,
how to fall down into the grass,
how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed,
how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver ~ Summer’s Day