Sermon for St. Carl Sagan’s Day

February 27, 2012 § Leave a comment


A still more glorious dawn awaits
Not a sunrise, but a galaxy rise
A morning filled with 400 billion suns
The rising of the Milky Way

SCIENCE, motherfuckers. There you have it. He’s not kidding about the 400 billion suns. We may have our collective semi-naked chimp arse glued to our office chair pillows by an ingenious mixture of bodily fluids and lost cheese, but fuckit, we’re looking at the stars. Or Google Mars, at least.

Feeling properly justified and heroically arse-glued now? Well, then here’s what you’re going to do once I deactivate your collar triggers and you think you’re safely back home, before your futile calls to the local “authorities”. You’re going to go on the internets, and you’re going to find a recipe. Doesn’t matter much which one, as long as it’s for something you can’t eat. There are happy and unhappy mutants in those tubes thar sharing them by the thousands. Try to find one by the happy ones, as the stuff the unhappy ones turn out tends to end with you screaming because your finger bones are embedded all over the ceiling, or because you’re stuck in an airliner toilet trying to dislodge a broken deodorant bottle full of hydrochloric acid from one of your bodily orifices. Get something that would be useful to you. Something that would add a measure of Slack to your existence, and which could, with careful use, last for years.

Now, before you try to follow that recipe, have a look at the list of things you will need. Pick one at random. Now go online again. Find out how that thingy is made. How many steps? How many tools? How much energy? How much time? How many people? Now pick one of the raw materials. Repeat the exercise until you’ve reached something that’s a result of a sun-driven pattern cycle, or a bit of crud in the earth’s crust that was left over from the formation of the solar system.

Now imagine you, yourself, with the help of your friends and cow-orkers, starting there, and working your way – all the way – up to the list of bits for the precious object you want to make, repeating the exercise for each and every piece. Would it be worth it? Could you do it?

Look at all the other bright shiny things you’ve hoarded up and used to embellish and adorn your filthy monkey nest. Would they be worth all the hard work and labour expended by you and your troop?

Of course they would be worth it; because otherwise, you wouldn’t have PAID someone else to waste THEIR precious slack to do it for you, would you? That’s the kind of thing the CONSPIRACY does. And you’re not one of THEM, are you?

Oh. You did.

See, that’s how far you really are from those bright shiny things in the sky, dearies; that’s what’s standing in your way.

Now get to work, you damn dirty apes. You’ve got until July Fifth, 1998.



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