This just in from Vince Dinglelint, reporter at large, reporting somewhere, from an undisclosed time and location in the future.
Part 3 of 3 concerning: What happened to Homo Sapiens? Those who stayed on Earth seemed to have felt a sacred obligation to maintain the "purity" of the genetic stock pertaining to the race of Homo sapiens. They avoided major redesigns - at least that was their intention. They focused on implementing minor "improvements" here and there. Of course what might be considered an improvement versus a major revision of the chassis was continuously subject to debate. For example, is it a minor tweak to purge our genes of a list of pet peeves? What about all those annoying physical flaws like diabetes, senility, arthritis, or an assortment of embarrassing sexual dysfunctions. How about tweaking the genes to extend the average life span another thousand years? The rules were occasionally bent. Inevitably, all of this "tweaking" had an accumulative effect. The purity of our race changed right along with everyone else in the galaxy. In spite of this, even though we changed, we continued holding onto a reverent belief that Earth, the Home World was the original spawning grounds for Homo Sapiens. We were the sacred Garden of Eden. Despite the fact that many, if not most, of our children had lost touch with the Home World, we continued to regard ourselves as special. It gave us a way to stick out from the rest of the riff raff. It defined who we were as a species, how special we were. It gave us purpose. Then, one fateful day, a momentous discovery was made. Buried deep within untouched metamorphosed rock estimated to be at least three billion years old, an archeologist made a rude discovery. It wasn't terribly impressive as artifacts go. It was nevertheless remarkable to have survived, buried under thousands of feet of highly compressed solid rock for billions of years. I was nothing more than a small capsule, a pellet. It was perfectly intact, and unopened. It was also unmistakably artificial. Using unobtrusive scanning techniques to peer within the capsule's locked confines scholars and scientists discovered a familiar organic composition - DNA. A string of chromosomes were embedded within an inert material perfectly preserving the coded sequence of genes. Curiously, the arrangement of genes when analyzed were quickly determined not to have been constructed in a manner that would have given it much of a chance of surviving had the combination been unleashed. It was highly unlikely that the genetic contents would have contaminated our virgin world, altering the course of our evolution. It was more in the way coded patterns had been arranged that disturbed everyone. Perhaps, it had something to do with the fact that we had always felt we were special, that we were the origin of all life throughout the galaxy. When decoded, the best translation seemed to state: "We, the #...@# stake claim to this terraformed world. All rights, reserved." We, the most sacred world in all the galaxy, the original Garden of Eden, had been under contract. We no longer had any purpose. Worse yet, we realized that for hundreds and thousands of years, a fervent belief in our purpose to maintain the "purity" of our heritage had been badly misinterpreted. We had worshiped and pursued a lie. A curious thing happened at that point in our evolutionary history. Perhaps it was augmented by all the accumulated combinations and re-combinations of genetic manipulation that had been going on for hundreds and thousands of years that assisted in the inevitable singularity. I really don't know for sure. What I do know, or rather, what my conscious memories of that brief encounter 1.2 million years in the future managed to retain was the notion that we suddenly lost all interest in maintaining any sense of physical form. We also severed all contact with the outside world, not that any of our neighbors took notice. We systematically started letting go of all semblance of who and what we thought we were as a species. Last of all, we eventually let go of attachments to all of our previous beliefs, thoughts, and thought forms. We were lost children trying to find our way through an uncharted forest. I believe when I met "them" 1.2 million years in the future, "they" were still wandering through their uncharted forest. I didn't sense any experiences or emotions akin to what we might interpret as feelings of "loss" or "remorse". I only sensed an infinite unbounded state of curiosity. There was also no trace of individuality left. There was no longer a practical need to maintain boundaries of physical contrivance, be they mental, emotional, or physically contrived. I felt no underlying beliefs or attitudes guiding their curiosity. There was only a continuum of unbounded pure awareness. It felt as if I had come home to a place where I no longer needed to maintain or defend any pretenses whatsoever. It engulfed my identity. It was utterly terrifying. And then, I was suddenly ripped out from this absolute state of existence and sent back to my time environment, back to those of my own kind. I didn't know whether to feel grateful having been rescued from this eternal continuum, or to have felt violated having been banished from it. All I could do was attempt to pick up the pieces of what might be left of "me". An odd thing about the on-going process of trying to put myself back together is that every time I think I've relocated a missing part, I'm not so sure it's worth putting back. What purpose would it serve to reincorporate it? These days, I seem to spend a lot of time languishing in a passive state of curiosity, followed by random bouts of creative research. I watch myself, especially my behavior. I watch the occasionally quirky actions and behaviors of others as well. I'm occasionally motivated to interject a comment or two, such as what I occasionally do within the context of this electronic forum. I don't know if what I have to say is useful information to others, or not. There remains something akin to a fossilized ego that hopes my occasionally incessant commentary is important. But as the days pass by, even that hope seems to become less relevant. It serves no useful purpose other than to worship another mirage. I continue chiseling away at mirages. The gift (or curse) "they" left me with seems to be the notion that in the end, what "I" am is nothing more, as well as nothing less than a simple witness to my surroundings. It would seem that we are all nothing more than curious witnesses to the surroundings we find ourselves wandering through. To bear witness...to be curious needs no justification. As a simple witness I am also free to acknowledge the fact that I'm totally lost, lonely, and even frightened as any child might feel when inexplicitly separated from their parents. I'm content to continue wandering through this uncharted forest for which the fates seem to have cast me in. There are even pleasant surprises along the way, especially my encounters with other curious "witnesses" who also find themselves wandering through the same uncharted forest as I. Signed, Vince Dinglelint --- Steven Vincent Johnson www.OrionWorks.com www.zazzle.com/orionworks
