CONTENTS
/ others'
music / dregeye
music / earth!first
/ MAIN / jakeis
/ defuse /
simple
/ sewwatt
/ whyilldinthestreets
/ firstaid
/ feralmale
/ sensualanguage
/ rrreading
Once upon a time
on Tralfamadore
there
were creatures who weren't anything like machines. They weren't dependable.
They weren't efficient. They weren't predictable. They weren't durable.
And these poor creatures were obsessed by the idea that everything that
existed had to have a purpose, and that some purposes were higher than
others.
These creatures spent most of their time trying to find out what their
purpose was. And every time they found out what seemed to be a purpose
of themselves, the purpose seemed so low that the creatures were filled
with disgust and shame.
And, rather than serve such a low purpose, the creatures would make a machine
to serve it. This left the creatures free to serve higher purposes. But
whenever they found a higher purpose, the purpose still wasn't high enough.
So machines were made to serve higher purposes, too.
And the machines did everything to expertly that they were finally given
the job of finding out what the higher purpose of the creatures could be.
The machines reported in all honesty that the creatures couldn't really
be said to have any purpose at all.
The creatures thereupon began slaying each other, because they hated purposeless
things above all else.
And they discovered that they weren't even very good at slaying. So they
turned that job over to the machines, too. And the machines finished up
the job in less time than it takes to say, "Tralfamadore."
from Kurt Vonnegut,
jr's
"The
Sirens of Titan"
rrreading
CONTENTS
rrreading
/ others'
music / dregeye
music / earth!first/postWTO/kakadu
/ main / jakeis
/ defuse / simple
/ sewwatt
/ whyilldinthestreets
/ first
aid / feralmale
sensualanguage
"Post
Orifice" message
board / read
others comments...
ran dumb mode
