That's what they want you to think

Pretend I said something clever here

1,175 notes

THEY’RE MADE OUT OF MEAT


“They’re made out of meat.”

"Meat?"

"Meat. They’re made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and 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 that 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 long. Do you have any idea what’s 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’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you."

"So … what does the thinking?"

"You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling 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 beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

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

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

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, 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. Anybody 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 this quadrant of the Universe, 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 can 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 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 marked the entire 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 …"

TERRY BISSON

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Yes. 

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Filed under sci fi story interesting

22,286 notes

my problem is my mamma raised me far too nice
to ever wish death on somebody, regardless of how much
they’d harmed me so instead i’m compiling a list
of odd karmatic punishments
for the assholes of my existence like

i hope the girl who ruined my senior year of high school
by bullying the hope out of my bones
has a bad hair day on every first date. i hope
the words she said behind my back tangle around
her head so when people meet her for the first time
they can see how unkind
she really is.

my mother and my father were talking in public
and a policeman asked her if she wanted the
‘dirty hispanic’ to leave her alone
and i really hope that policeman goes home
to heat that never works properly and that
the cold makes his bones ache, i hope the
warmth of my daddy’s sun never kisses
the sweaty temples of men who use their
position of power as an excuse to be racist

the man who hit me until i bled from the
corners of my mouth and who kissed me no matter
how much i asked him to stop better constantly get
his dick stuck in his zipper and i hope a large rash
develops because of it because maybe being
in constant pain will make him learn
some empathy

i want the teacher who told my friend joe
‘you can’t be a boy just because you say so’
to spill overheated 99-cent coffee on her ironed skirt
every other thursday, i hope it stains because
her words never washed out of his ears either

i hope the boy who broke my heart is
doing well, because i’m doing well too, but i want
the boy who broke my sister by promising forever
when he really meant ‘just until you give me everything’
to get a tattoo with a misspelling
just because i think it would be funny
since he was so afraid of commitment

the man who told my friend to kill herself, to just get it over
should wake up to a leak in his roof
that has no particular origin and constantly drips
onto his face no matter where he moves his pillow to
because maybe then he’ll have some idea about
drowning

i hope the people who told my brother
he couldn’t succeed
solely based on his disability
constantly hit their heads when getting into the car,
i want them to blink back little black dots
and wonder what they’ve ever done wrong to deserve
this and then i want them to see my brother’s company
on a full-page spread because he’s twenty-four and
making more money than they ever did

my math teacher told me most girls are stupid
with numbers and i hope his wife is funneling large
sums of his money into an offshore account without
him noticing while my english teacher told me
he didn’t expect much because i’m not a native speaker
so i really hope in class one day
he unknowingly passes out one of my poems

and i hope if you’ve been hurt, your life has
turned around. keep your head up,
square your shoulders, trust that
the universe will find some way to sort things out. hold on
until your heart mends. regardless of what happens,
know that happiness
is the best revenge.

I can’t wish true evil or true evil will come back to me but that doesn’t mean I want assholes to go around happy /// r.i.d | inkskinned (via inkskinned)

yes

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this is a work of genius and no mistake.

(via jacquez45)

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Filed under poetry

35,412 notes

Anonymous asked: Re: your "rule about naked people" -- How about people who take nude photos of themselves not be stupid and use storage devices that can be hacked, like cloud storage (or take any risks close to that)? Just HOW much personal responsibility does your generation need to shed before you get it through your thick skulls that it only costs $20 for a decent external hard drive these days? :|

fishingboatproceeds:

"The lock on your diary wasn’t very good, so it’s your fault I read your diary."