Sunday, November 13, 2011


The universe is a strange place. Some planets speed around huge broiling suns, careening off each other near crowded galactic centers. Night time skies resonate with a ghostly pale light provided by trillions of white-hot stars. Life is rare in such places, preferring the cooler, calm confines of the more suburban outer arms. Picture an octopus turning a pirouette. Each tentacle inscribing a graceful arc as it spins through the sea. We would be a sucker three quarters of the way out to one of the tips. And by 'we' I mean Earth.

Now it happens that galaxies occasionally collide. The stars involved rarely so much as touch.. Interstellar space is like a fine mist. In this case, imagine two ghosts skating toward each other and passing through the opposing ectoplasmic fog like a zephyr through a cloud. Quite graceful, no? Yet some  universal laws are inviolate, such as the 'express' checkout is anything but, male lions cannibalize 'foreign' young and gravity will not be defied. Thus some unfortunate solar systems get thrown out of whack. And we know what happens when you digress from the law of whack.......They simply kick you  out of the galaxy....any galaxy. 

Does life end on the worlds unlucky enough to be married to such stars? No, everything goes on as usual. The dog still dumps on the rug. The kid who cuts the grass leaves a mess. And aluminum chlorhydrate still contributes toward Old-Timers disease..... maybe. But the night time sky grows ever blacker as the glittering 'ship' sails away.  Galaxies retreat. In the first few million years the 'old homeland' fills the sky... a lacy incandescence against the darkness. Then, far into the future, it appears as a tiny glowing smudge, before winking out altogether in the vastness of God's Parking Lot.

Souls planted on those isolated worlds dream not of other realms, for there are no other realms. The best ships sprung from the neurons of the best dreamers could never reach them. There is earth and there is sky. The day is bright with sun. The night far blacker that death. Would such cultures continue to evolve? Perhaps. They might make ever more cunning electrical devices. They may concoct exotic, life-extending brews and fashion buffet sneeze guards that actually work.

But one thing they do have that we don't is protection from alien enemies. A wind storm roils o're the Sahara. Abrasive, silicate particles rise up from the dunes and dance into the sky. All is red. All is one. Horizons are abolished. Cities are no more. And the Sphinx burrows in for a long, long nap. People in advance of the edge of this nebulous tsunami look up in awe at the stratospheric wave about to break. Some die of fright.Others begin to laugh and babble incoherently. Mothers and fathers hug their children. Old ones say their prayers.

The monstrous storm flies 'cross the 'Sea Between the Land' (Mediterranean) and does a lesser job of decimation upon the northern shore. How fared the Holy Land? Tolerably well, actually. The force exploded westward, merely touching them with dread. People of all faiths dug out from the never-melting snow, escaping from tombs too weak to hold them.

But far toward the setting sun (burning in a blood-red sky), on a relatively small river emptying into the Atlantic Sea, a three hundred and twenty year old alchemist (Doctor Franklin) extracts a series of notes from the ether. His Great Armonica gives second birth to The Lost Chord and wondrous beasties blow in from the cosmic void.

Instantaneous communication devices spread the Good News from Alaska to the Moon. Plans are made. Technicians called forth. Replicas of the crystaline device find berths in the bellies of Earth's most gigantic flying machines. The Light of Salvation winks over the waves. Are they safe? Not really. Not yet. But humanity has a weapon now. Pray they use it well.

Do the aliens know of it? Are they aware? Do they comprehend such things?........ I cannot tell. Their disembodied spirits..... if they have disembodied spirits frequent other Heavens and I've yet to hear them speak. But the Manta-Ray folk on Europa know.... and they weave their prayers with ours.

On a great ship... if one could call it a ship, Lailah knows too. And from her place among the enemy, she hums an ancient song.....................


We do have special links for you to see, but our browser prohibits their reproduction. Simply scroll down two posts or so. You'll find them there. You may enjoy them........ PLEASE CLICK ON THE 'SHARE' BUTTON JUST BELOW.... THANK YOU...... and kindly grace us with a comment (plus YOUR link). take all the space you want. make it like a guest post. make yourself at home.

No comments: