George Barbier, Le Feu (The Fire), Lithograph From Falbalas Et Fanfreluches, Almanach Des Modes Presentes,

feel kinda guilty but i cant wait til this one burns out. think of the freaking supernova im

NGC 6888 // Crescent Nebula, with central Wolf-Rayet Star WR 136

if i ever get killed i hope you all assume it’s because i knew too much about aliens

Hey kids let’s get meta for a moment.

Let’s say aliens are real, and let’s say we communicate with them, and let’s say they find out about this weird internet thing where humans write little mini stories about future human interactions with aliens.

Can you imagine how fucking confused and concerned they would be? These two-legged assholes who were so enamored with the concept of meeting other intelligent species, even though for the longest time they had NO CONCLUSIVE PROOF that said other species exist, that they wrote stories about those other species, to the point of making up creatures and systems of mood communication and names for their made up aliens? 

Which brings me to my Great Theory About The Purpose Of Storytelling: it’s practice. We tell stories about that time we had the flu really bad to practice getting the flu with our friends so we all know how to properly manage the symptoms. We tell stories about our children to practice dealing with their unpredictability. We tell stories about war and famine and pestilence to practice dealing with disaster. And we tell stories about aliens to practice etiquette for dealing with aliens. 

We tell stories of our own ferocity and ingenuity to practice for the day we have to either defend our planet or invite ourselves into an alliance. We tell stories of our aggressive pack-bonding to practice bonding with creatures that are literally alien to us. We tell stories about trading chores for passage on space ships to practice Just Because They’re Aliens Doesn’t Mean You Can Be Rude. 

And of course, if we can practice bonding and cooperating with creatures that may not even breathe oxygen, we can practice bonding and cooperating with each other.

NGC 5189: An unusually complex planetary nebula

js

We lived in a generation full of corrupt people but in the end we still hope that humanity and kindness is still there somehow.

I think we could learn a lot from the robots we’re building. Imagine talking to a machine fitted with an artificial intelligence that can communicate with us. We’d ask so many questions, just because we hope for something new so badly.

So we’d go to the robot and ask, “What’s your purpose?”

The robot would make a little beep or whatever noise it chooses to signify processing of data. “My purpose is whatever you programmed into me,” it would say.

And we’d be disappointed. Because that’s not new. “Oh.” Already thinking about ways to change the robot, we mutter to ourselves: “Aren’t you lucky, knowing exactly what you’re meant to do.”

The robot hears that, of course. Maybe it would laugh, maybe not, but it would certainly reach for us in its own way of soothing. And if we’d listen closely, I’m sure we’d hear pain in its emotional voice.

“Aren’t you lucky, choosing exactly what you want to do?”

SILVER SURFER Vol. 2, #1 (June 1982) Art by John Byrne & Tom Palmer Words by John Byrne & Stan Lee