The idea that Saturn's rings, this great cosmic mystery (actually solved, a moon literally got ripped apart by Saturn's gravity), is actually just the golden arches of some interstellar restaraunt chain… It really drives home a point that's hard to get across in a lot of science fiction, and that's the sheer mindbreaking scale of a more advanced civilization. That's actually the best example I've seen in a few years. The Collapsium, a brilliant scifi novel (look it up, I mean it, it's great), has an idea that's a little tiny bit like this, where in order to make communication–and teleportation–across the solar system easier, the human race puts a ring of superdense focusing transmitter thingies into orbit around the Sun, and they create this utterly beautiful, stunning ring around the Sun that amounts to a giant transmitter. But that's an entire species funding a massive project and laying waste to its economy at some level to do it. That's the equivalent of the panama canal, both in function and in relative scale. Doing the same thing to Saturn for them would be the equivalent of, perhaps, the Hoover Dam.
What you're suggesting is a civilization on such a grandiose scale that putting a system of rings so large that it is literally the defining feature of a planet to a developing culture is the rough equivalent of that fine afternoon when they put the sign up in front of Burger King, or perhaps more accurately, when they mount the giant cup of coffee on top of the cheezsy café. It's mind-bendingly massive.
It's actually a scale that I've had the privilege of writing on, and although there are occasional glimpses of that kind of scaling in the universe I've written in–weapons that destroy entire galaxies, man-sized robots that could, given half a chance, rip a planet to shreds–it's nearly impossible to bring the point home as neatly as with something as simple as this sort of conversation.
There's something about it that removes the numbness of quoting huge figures.
"He rules over a million galaxies!"
Zilch. It's too big, too remote.
"You know the rings around the sixth planet there?"
"You mean the ones that have defined its image for as long as we've known about them?"
"Yeah, those. I can tell you what they mean."
"Go for it."
"Eat at Joe's."
When the cosmic wonders that enthrall you as a child are the crappy sign on top of a chain store, that is power.
.-= Drakey´s last blog ..Some New Developments =-.
I think that the trustworthiness of parents is an often overlooked subject. in reality, no kid should ever trust the 'rents at their word.
.-= John K´s last blog ..Home =-.
Okay, now THAT is creative.
The idea that Saturn's rings, this great cosmic mystery (actually solved, a moon literally got ripped apart by Saturn's gravity), is actually just the golden arches of some interstellar restaraunt chain… It really drives home a point that's hard to get across in a lot of science fiction, and that's the sheer mindbreaking scale of a more advanced civilization. That's actually the best example I've seen in a few years. The Collapsium, a brilliant scifi novel (look it up, I mean it, it's great), has an idea that's a little tiny bit like this, where in order to make communication–and teleportation–across the solar system easier, the human race puts a ring of superdense focusing transmitter thingies into orbit around the Sun, and they create this utterly beautiful, stunning ring around the Sun that amounts to a giant transmitter. But that's an entire species funding a massive project and laying waste to its economy at some level to do it. That's the equivalent of the panama canal, both in function and in relative scale. Doing the same thing to Saturn for them would be the equivalent of, perhaps, the Hoover Dam.
What you're suggesting is a civilization on such a grandiose scale that putting a system of rings so large that it is literally the defining feature of a planet to a developing culture is the rough equivalent of that fine afternoon when they put the sign up in front of Burger King, or perhaps more accurately, when they mount the giant cup of coffee on top of the cheezsy café. It's mind-bendingly massive.
It's actually a scale that I've had the privilege of writing on, and although there are occasional glimpses of that kind of scaling in the universe I've written in–weapons that destroy entire galaxies, man-sized robots that could, given half a chance, rip a planet to shreds–it's nearly impossible to bring the point home as neatly as with something as simple as this sort of conversation.
There's something about it that removes the numbness of quoting huge figures.
"He rules over a million galaxies!"
Zilch. It's too big, too remote.
"You know the rings around the sixth planet there?"
"You mean the ones that have defined its image for as long as we've known about them?"
"Yeah, those. I can tell you what they mean."
"Go for it."
"Eat at Joe's."
When the cosmic wonders that enthrall you as a child are the crappy sign on top of a chain store, that is power.
.-= Drakey´s last blog ..Some New Developments =-.
Kinda funny but this is a mega comment as well – very much in keeping with the "large in scale" idea underlying the strip!
I think that the trustworthiness of parents is an often overlooked subject. in reality, no kid should ever trust the 'rents at their word.
.-= John K´s last blog ..Home =-.
Like – "Your face will freeze like that if you don't stop it!"
I dunno, that might explain the janitor.
.-= Drakey´s last blog ..Some New Developments =-.
oh broccoli is good especially with melted butter or melted cheese on it lol
blech NOTHING will make broccoli taste good to me