I am the greatest man in the world; indeed I am so great that I can afford great generosity: I encourage all others to adopt the delusion that they are as great as I. If they truly thought that they were themselves the greatest, they too would be as generous; and then we would all be able to humor each other, in peace, for none would feel threatened by the now-harmless delusions of everyone else.”
— Dr. Philo Drummond (Now go thou and do likewise.)
A Farewell to Mars
On and for the 54th anniversary of “Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”
AS HE DANGLED FROM THE upper corner of the window before my typewriter, inverted and scowling, I first saw the Man from Mars.
His identity was obvious: three feet tall, emerald green where the spacesuit didn’t cover him, with more-than-vestigial antennae sprouting from a large bulbous head. His expression mingled disappointment with incredulity, as though his highest hopes had just been dashed, and with calculated cruelty.
“I cannot believe you people,” he said in a flat baritone. “Just can’t believe you.”
“I’m not sure I believe in you either,” I said.
He slid down to the sill, his scowl now level with my eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Would you mind opening the window?”
“I would,” I said with ill-concealed suspicion. “How do I know you’re not, you know … part of some horrible invasion-force or other?”
“Because I’m the only Martian left – and I can’t even open the window by myself,” he said. “Besides, the latch is on your side.”
“So it is,” I said, and raised it.
By telling tales about stardust, I hope we can remind ourselves that we live in an interconnected and beautiful world, full of rare and precious elements. It is our duty to treat it, and each other, with care and respect.”
— Astrophysicist Sanjana Curtis
Prosatio Silban and The Public Discourse
IT BEGAN, AS SO MANY good tales do, at Pelvhi’s Chopping-House. But it didn’t end there.
That bustling asylum for epicurean Pormaris’ vast and varied army of hospitality workers was especially busy for a night in the stormy Season of Huddling. The sounds of lively conversation accented by clinking glasses and tableware were audible even before Prosatio Silban opened the stucco tavern’s brass-hinged oaken door. A rush of warm, smoky air enveloped him as he entered, as did a dozen loud helloes from familiar voices.
“Good evening, everyone!” he called, shaking rainwater off his clothes and making his way to the crowded long bar at the capacious room’s rear. He took the lone vacant seat and lifted one hand toward the tavern’s namesake, who – as usual – was conducting a handful of discrete and discreet conversations. She courteously disengaged herself and sauntered over to the beefy cook, a meaningful expression on her half-wizened face.
ENJOY YOUR TIME.”
— Preferred parting sentiment of a well-known Sonoma shopkeeper
Too Bad
“WE PASSED THROUGH SEVERAL HUNDRED media-transmission shells on our way in,” the communications officer said. “Of course, we were eager to see who had made them.”
By the pale light of a flickering viewscreen, the captain’s expression was thoughtful. “I can see why,” she told the communications officer. “Judging by their cities and transportation networks, they built big and dreamed bigger.”
“Indeed. They even made entertaining fictions about lives on other worlds, in other times. Some were quite remarkable.”
Words To Bring Back: “Perfervid”
– Definition: adj. intense and impassioned
– Used in a sentence: The perfervid activists had trouble with their blood pressure.
– Why: There is something attractive about a three-syllable word replacing a three-word phrase. (Maybe it’s the concisifier in me.)