Until you get closer. That's when you learn those pretty colors and twinkling lights can rip you apart and vaporize you.
That's pretty much how I look at Earth from space. From space it's pretty. Some might say the lights map where civilization begins. But I'd rather live in the dark spaces, far, far away from the sights and sounds of The Outside, as the New Seminole (NS) call the modern world. The Inside may not have flush toilets and AC and all the other "creature comforts" that make living in the "developed world" easier, but one thing the Inside doesn't have is malice. Nature may kill you to live or to protect itself and its young, but it doesn't have a jones for inflicting pain and suffering for some sick need. That's strictly a human thing. Nor does it need to accumulate wealth, that other human thing that since the beginning of the Industrial Age has now accelerated thanks to the advancement of electronics and the deployment of the Internet to allow a global attack on Gaia. When profits and a "better life" come first, who will save the planet? We now know that officially it won't be Trump or the U.S. The NS made a noble attempt at saving south Florida and we failed mightily (see Book Two). So many died on both sides. Out of our little rag-tag gang of renegades, as far as I can tell, Yours Truly, Nokosee, and our baby girl Haalie are the only survivors. I can't speak for Nokosee, the "First of the New Seminole," but now that I'm a mother, you can count me out of any sequel that takes on Uncle Sam and his bad-ass armies again. And I'm not just saying that because I'm holed up at the Miccosukee Embassy in Miami seeking Sanctuary and looking for a friendly judicial ear. Someone else is going to have to pick up that bloodied feathered lance next time around. Maybe, Dear Reader, it'll be you.
That's pretty much how I look at Earth from space. From space it's pretty. Some might say the lights map where civilization begins. But I'd rather live in the dark spaces, far, far away from the sights and sounds of The Outside, as the New Seminole (NS) call the modern world. The Inside may not have flush toilets and AC and all the other "creature comforts" that make living in the "developed world" easier, but one thing the Inside doesn't have is malice. Nature may kill you to live or to protect itself and its young, but it doesn't have a jones for inflicting pain and suffering for some sick need. That's strictly a human thing. Nor does it need to accumulate wealth, that other human thing that since the beginning of the Industrial Age has now accelerated thanks to the advancement of electronics and the deployment of the Internet to allow a global attack on Gaia. When profits and a "better life" come first, who will save the planet? We now know that officially it won't be Trump or the U.S. The NS made a noble attempt at saving south Florida and we failed mightily (see Book Two). So many died on both sides. Out of our little rag-tag gang of renegades, as far as I can tell, Yours Truly, Nokosee, and our baby girl Haalie are the only survivors. I can't speak for Nokosee, the "First of the New Seminole," but now that I'm a mother, you can count me out of any sequel that takes on Uncle Sam and his bad-ass armies again. And I'm not just saying that because I'm holed up at the Miccosukee Embassy in Miami seeking Sanctuary and looking for a friendly judicial ear. Someone else is going to have to pick up that bloodied feathered lance next time around. Maybe, Dear Reader, it'll be you.
RSS Feed