Continents rise and fall,
civilizations blossom and degenerate.
The sun and moon chase
their tails, at cartoonish speeds.

Men flicker like fireflies, seeking
to tame dark matter with machinery.
Peer through microscopes
at immortal promise.

I am no scientist,
no Shackleton of the microcosmos.
All that matters to me is that
we continue to be.

Dark Matter Core Defies Explanation

By Nasa Blue Shift via Flickr

Operation Day 16


After several days
in a special blend
of herbs and isotopes,
they gave me back my brain.

Strapped me to a chair
and hoisted her in,
glistening wetly
with eerie potential.

After several weeks,
the dive-bombing plesiosaurs
abandoned their nightly raids,
and left me alone with sleep.

After several months,
I came to know
that I was science,
more god than human,

the angel of entropy,
the sultan of centrifuge,
the chaotic butterfly,
the destroyer of worlds.

By Allan Ajifo, via Wikimedia Commons

CaBloWriMo: Soulseek


I saw it nearly happen once, an Illicit. They do their best to keep it from happening, but everyone knows it does. The net is full of stories. There’s nothing to stop two people meeting and letting nature overwhelm their rational minds, so long as they don’t get caught. It’s hard to understand why they’re so against the workings of science. We all know we wouldn’t be here without it.

I was still a kid when they gave up putting numbers in the elevators. You just get in, wave your key card at the reader and it whisks you direct to your floor. Quick, efficient, and minimizes the danger that there’ll be anyone else in there with you. In the rare event that there is, it’s only polite to pretend that you haven’t seen them.

In the old days, human interaction happened like this, in elevators, random and happenstance. Say you struck up a conversation with the stranger in the elevator, what then? There was a chance that you would strike common ground, discover a mutual love for bird-watching or Russian art-house movies, and on this flimsy basis bring offspring into the world, to roll their eyes at your shared hobbies and grow up sullen and unfulfilled. And that was if you hit it off.

That was before Soulseek took the happenstance and the angst out of personal interactions, and with them the petty jealousies engendered by the agony of choice. All you need do is sit back and leave your future to science and the state – to Soulseek.

(By 日:Muramasa, via Wikimedia Commons)