Just a paragraph I liked in the book I finished reading today. The book, The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman, is about what would happen to the world we know if all of mankind simply disappeared one lovely afternoon. It’s a fascinating read on how fleeting our greatest achievements would be, and how lasting some of our follies. In this particular section, he touches on our efforts to project ourselves into space, if not in person, then in a historical record of sorts, be it a spacecraft with a gold record or decades of television broadcasts traversing the void between stars.
As the Voyagers and Pioneers erode away to startdust, in the end our radio waves, bearing sounds and images that record barely more than a single century of human existence, will be all the universe holds of us. It’s hardly an instant, even in human terms, but a remarkably fruitful – if convulsive – one. Whoever awaits our news at the edge of time will get an earful. They may not understand Lucy, but they will hear us laugh.
Eh, I don’t know. I liked it.