if I could hop aboard your alien craft
right now
I would
the stars call me
into a euphoria of hysteria
I would leave, I would
I would
not a second thought
of the left behind
push past the atmosphere
and race out of their system
never has my brain felt so light
as it is in a vacuum
Charlotte worked in the government
doing what her bosses said
fetching coffee and apple pie
doing everything for the FBI
one day she went down to level 8
the door to room a was open all the way
and she peeked in, thinking “what the hey?”
big mistake may day may day
it was a purple alien
she was so done
had to bring this truth to Sun
but believed by no one
because she’s crazy
must be lazy
memory hazy
world’s not daisies
they say
her life is ruined
they call her “stupid”
“a total nuisance”
“she should be muted”
because she’s crazy
must be lazy
memory hazy
world’s not daisies
they say
so she cries
about these lies
cries, cries, cries
that’s her demise
and then she dies
it was a purple alien
she was so done
had to bring this truth to Sun
believed by no one
because she’s crazy
must be lazy
memory hazy
world’s not daisies
they say
Forty years ago, NASA sent out Voyagers 1 and 2 to study the Solar System. In 2012, Voyager 1 reached interstellar space — the first human-made anything to do so. Both voyagers were carrying the Golden Record — this amazing phonograph made in the span of five months to represent Earth to any extraterrestrial beings that might intercept them as they travel space.
Yesterday, I went a panel discussion at CalTech with Ann Druyan, Reggie Watts, Lynda Obst, David Pescovitz and Ed Stone. They talked about the content on the Golden Record and some of the stories behind particular inclusions. They sent pictures, music, names, sounds, “hello” in many languages and some whale language as well. Ann and Lynda (who I don’t believe was on the committee choosing these works for the Golden Record) were particularly fantastic at expressing how much this responsibility and privilege affected them.
Just the idea of trying to encapsulate humanity strikes my mind with wonder. How would I choose those 115 images (storage capabilities in the 1970s were nothing like they are today)? The enormity of it must have made them quiet with awe.
Even further than that, I imagine these aliens finding our technological remnant one day, and I want to know how they would interpret us. Would they like us? Would they think we’re primitive? Would they want to come to Earth (if at all possible)?
Most of all, it makes me want to write sci-fi, so I can craft an experience that encompasses the adventure and hope and wonder that space exploration might hold. Lately, I’ve been mostly writing fantasy novels, but I might want to crack my knuckles and try something new.
Just stare at the sky, imagine and write.
I’m so invigorated.
