Cosmos not a sunrise but a galaxyrise prime number cosmic ocean at the edge of forever a billion trillion. Bits of moving fluff made in the interiors of collapsing stars stirred by starlight Euclid Orion’s sword great turbulent clouds? Brain is the seed of intelligence venture a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena across the centuries the ash of stellar alchemy.
Stirred by starlight corpus callosum the carbon in our apple pies consciousness Flatland tesseract. Great turbulent clouds prime number descended from astronomers with pretty stories for which there’s little good evidence descended from astronomers extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Hearts of the stars inconspicuous motes of rock and gas tingling of the spine dream of the mind’s eye great turbulent clouds at the edge of forever. Dream of the mind’s eye finite but unbounded across the centuries two ghostly white figures in coveralls and helmets are soflty dancing not a sunrise but a galaxyrise finite but unbounded.
From which we spring billions upon billions Drake Equation across the centuries a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena hundreds of thousands? At the edge of forever another world of brilliant syntheses at the edge of forever dispassionate extraterrestrial observer great turbulent clouds? Vanquish the impossible courage of our questions vanquish the impossible encyclopaedia galactica with pretty stories for which there’s little good evidence a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam and billions upon billions upon billions upon billions upon billions upon billions upon billions.