Okay, so today's entry was a Shakespearean love poem assignment where you were meant to describe your love in naturalistic terms (ie: without using similes and metaphors usually reserved for love poems) based on Shakespeare's "My Mistress' Eyes are Nothing Like The Sun". However, I am going to choose to bypass that assignment, and instead, write from July 3rd.
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ARE WE ALONE? PHILOSOPHICAL IMPLICATIONS OF THE DISCOVERY OF EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE by Paul Davies
Try This: Contact with extraterrestrials has been a popular theme in science fiction since H G Wells. Write your own alien-contact story but avoid movie cliches of reptilian monsters, malicious invaders, or cuddlesome ETs.
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"Because I told you not to open it, Sierra! I told you we should have called the police, or the FBI or the CIA or whoever deals with these kinds of things! You cannot blame this on me, or anyone but yourself!" Ryan lectured her again, before stalking into the kitchen in a frustrated rage.
Sierra thought back to the previous night. Had she really made such a poor judgement call? Her mother always said that her curiosity would get the best of her one day, and she certainly couldn't say that her motivation for opening the strange device had been motivated by anything but. Certainly not heroism or any other likely reason I person would take matters into their own hands after discovering an ancient capsule covered in strange glyphs at the bottom of a well in their backyard. She knew it was wrong, but she also knew that as soon as they called authorities, the thing would be whisked away to some secret laboratory never to be seen or heard from again, and she couldn't have lived the rest of her life just not knowing. But now look where it had got her.
[ But now you know... ]
The voice came again. Strange, yet familiar, and not exactly in her head, but not exactly outside of it either, like it was echoing nearby. She hadn't exactly told Ryan about the voice yet, but who would blame her? He was never really good at dealing with things like this anyway. Not the man you'd want to have around in a crisis, so to speak. He tended to overreact--not that this situation was in any way okay.
She glanced at her fingers, as if hoping it would all have been a dream and they would be back to normal. But instead, of course, she saw the same strange scaly blue pattern, and it was already a bit deeper in hue than it had been this morning, and she swore it was closer to her knuckle that it had been, too. She checked to see that Ryan had, in fact, stormed off, and she could now hear him stomping around upstairs, so she was sure he wouldn't be stepping into the room to finish his rant. She reached down with her strange fingertips and pulled back the edge of her tanktop. Sure enough, the blue patch on her stomach was also darker, and the scale pattern more prominent. It had also increased in size by at least 2 inches around.
The strange rash had appeared late last night in all the places where the pod had touched her bare skin. Ryan had almost convinced her to give up, that it was simply an object, not a container as she suspected, when she finally managed to pry it open by bracing it against her midriff, and pulling hard at the diamond-shaped crust at the front of the pod. But that is the exact moment that they both blacked out, and when they woke up, collapsed together on the floor of the barn as few hours later, the object was gone.
[ But to where...? ]
The voice again, encouraging her curiosity.
"Stop it!!" she yelled at the bodiless presence. But then she clamped her hands over her mouth as Ryan walked into the room.
"Stop what?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.
"Nothing. Nothing," Sierra replied, reaching to straighten the coasters on the edge of the coffee table.
There was a small pause, as if Ryan was presenting her with the opportunity to confess, but instead, he was the one to come forward, "Sierra, I have to tell you something, and I'm sorry for getting so upset, but I can't... deal with this. Look." he pulled up his sleeve to reveal five perfect spots of light blue on his forearm.
"Right where I touched you last night to wake you up in the barn."
"Yeah, and look what else," He turned around and slid his shirt off over his head. His entire back was covered with streaks of blue, very faint, but definitely there. "That's from last night too, you were restless in your sleep, and you kept reaching out for me. I would have woken you, but you always calmed down once I turned over, I didn't think anything of it."
Sierra said nothing. She felt for the edge of the sofa without looking away from Ryan, and slowly lowered herself to the seat. She had to tell him about the voice. Whatever this was, whatever she had done to herself, it was spreading. Contagious. Alien. Bad enough that she had infected herself, but now Ryan as well? She had to tell him. They had to figure this out, before it got worse.
"There's a voice." She stated.
Ryan paused, pulling his shirt back down and coming around to take a seat on the armchair opposite her. She looked up at him, met his eyes and gauged his body language. He was on edge. Well, better now than later, she figured. "Not all the time, but sometimes. In my head. Like it's speaking to me, but, I've never heard it before last night."
He didn't give the reaction she'd been expecting, but now she looked closer at his eyes and they seemed sort of glazed over. Denial. "What do they say?" he asked.
"Nothing, really. Just like, comments, on what's going on. It's only happened a few times. All I know is that the voice seems.... foreign. I guess I can't explain it. Just that, it's like it's someone talking to me, only there's no one there, and it's like they're far away."
"There! Oh my god, did you hear it?"
"Hear what? The voice? What did it say?"
"It said, 'Not as far as you think.' "
"What like, not as far as you think it's far away?" he proposed, "Oh fuck. Sierra. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he was on his feet now, pacing back and forth in quick little steps and running his hands through his hair.
[ Already here. In you. Just wait. Tomorrow. ]
Then Sierra screamed.---------
ARE WE ALONE? PHILOSOPHICAL IMPLICATIONS OF THE DISCOVERY OF EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE by Paul Davies
Try This: Contact with extraterrestrials has been a popular theme in science fiction since H G Wells. Write your own alien-contact story but avoid movie cliches of reptilian monsters, malicious invaders, or cuddlesome ETs.
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Inside
"Because I told you not to open it, Sierra! I told you we should have called the police, or the FBI or the CIA or whoever deals with these kinds of things! You cannot blame this on me, or anyone but yourself!" Ryan lectured her again, before stalking into the kitchen in a frustrated rage.
Sierra thought back to the previous night. Had she really made such a poor judgement call? Her mother always said that her curiosity would get the best of her one day, and she certainly couldn't say that her motivation for opening the strange device had been motivated by anything but. Certainly not heroism or any other likely reason I person would take matters into their own hands after discovering an ancient capsule covered in strange glyphs at the bottom of a well in their backyard. She knew it was wrong, but she also knew that as soon as they called authorities, the thing would be whisked away to some secret laboratory never to be seen or heard from again, and she couldn't have lived the rest of her life just not knowing. But now look where it had got her.
[ But now you know... ]
The voice came again. Strange, yet familiar, and not exactly in her head, but not exactly outside of it either, like it was echoing nearby. She hadn't exactly told Ryan about the voice yet, but who would blame her? He was never really good at dealing with things like this anyway. Not the man you'd want to have around in a crisis, so to speak. He tended to overreact--not that this situation was in any way okay.
She glanced at her fingers, as if hoping it would all have been a dream and they would be back to normal. But instead, of course, she saw the same strange scaly blue pattern, and it was already a bit deeper in hue than it had been this morning, and she swore it was closer to her knuckle that it had been, too. She checked to see that Ryan had, in fact, stormed off, and she could now hear him stomping around upstairs, so she was sure he wouldn't be stepping into the room to finish his rant. She reached down with her strange fingertips and pulled back the edge of her tanktop. Sure enough, the blue patch on her stomach was also darker, and the scale pattern more prominent. It had also increased in size by at least 2 inches around.
The strange rash had appeared late last night in all the places where the pod had touched her bare skin. Ryan had almost convinced her to give up, that it was simply an object, not a container as she suspected, when she finally managed to pry it open by bracing it against her midriff, and pulling hard at the diamond-shaped crust at the front of the pod. But that is the exact moment that they both blacked out, and when they woke up, collapsed together on the floor of the barn as few hours later, the object was gone.
[ But to where...? ]
The voice again, encouraging her curiosity.
"Stop it!!" she yelled at the bodiless presence. But then she clamped her hands over her mouth as Ryan walked into the room.
"Stop what?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.
"Nothing. Nothing," Sierra replied, reaching to straighten the coasters on the edge of the coffee table.
There was a small pause, as if Ryan was presenting her with the opportunity to confess, but instead, he was the one to come forward, "Sierra, I have to tell you something, and I'm sorry for getting so upset, but I can't... deal with this. Look." he pulled up his sleeve to reveal five perfect spots of light blue on his forearm.
"Right where I touched you last night to wake you up in the barn."
"Yeah, and look what else," He turned around and slid his shirt off over his head. His entire back was covered with streaks of blue, very faint, but definitely there. "That's from last night too, you were restless in your sleep, and you kept reaching out for me. I would have woken you, but you always calmed down once I turned over, I didn't think anything of it."
Sierra said nothing. She felt for the edge of the sofa without looking away from Ryan, and slowly lowered herself to the seat. She had to tell him about the voice. Whatever this was, whatever she had done to herself, it was spreading. Contagious. Alien. Bad enough that she had infected herself, but now Ryan as well? She had to tell him. They had to figure this out, before it got worse.
"There's a voice." She stated.
Ryan paused, pulling his shirt back down and coming around to take a seat on the armchair opposite her. She looked up at him, met his eyes and gauged his body language. He was on edge. Well, better now than later, she figured. "Not all the time, but sometimes. In my head. Like it's speaking to me, but, I've never heard it before last night."
He didn't give the reaction she'd been expecting, but now she looked closer at his eyes and they seemed sort of glazed over. Denial. "What do they say?" he asked.
"Nothing, really. Just like, comments, on what's going on. It's only happened a few times. All I know is that the voice seems.... foreign. I guess I can't explain it. Just that, it's like it's someone talking to me, only there's no one there, and it's like they're far away."
"There! Oh my god, did you hear it?"
"Hear what? The voice? What did it say?"
"It said, 'Not as far as you think.' "
"What like, not as far as you think it's far away?" he proposed, "Oh fuck. Sierra. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he was on his feet now, pacing back and forth in quick little steps and running his hands through his hair.
[ Already here. In you. Just wait. Tomorrow. ]
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Love District 9, maybe this was a bit of a rip-off, but I think that's what I liked about it. It challenged what you'd think of as a "typical alien movie", and I think it brought up interesting ideas about how the introduction of aliens to our world cause human beings to change the way they see themselves, and especially in this situation, what does it really mean to be other? Can you become other? and what is it like to make that transition? What goes through someone's mind as their perception of what is other is slowly merged with their perceived notion of self (or terrestrial, in this case)? I suppose in that way, this is very body-snatchers-esque as well, but I just find that concept fascinating, so... yeah! Day 2 complete!
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