A Story of a Rose, an Artist, and History
A Story of a Rose, an Artist, and History
By Punkerslut
The year was 2700 AD, and the technological advances of mankind
were impressive. By now, 99% of disease had been eliminated, and
the average life span was around 150 years. Innovating and
exciting new fields of science had been opened and subdivided.
Art found new and creative ways to be expressed. The ways of the
people became not necessarily simple, but all directed towards
fulfilling the passion of the heart, the creativitiy of the mind.
Bastello walked with his/her lover Rols, gently trotting across
the otherwise untouched cobblestone. As they passed by a housing
unit, they hear some shouting. It was their friend Casva. "Hey,
Bastello! Rols! I've got something you want to see!"
"We're comin'!" Bastello hollered. Technology had become molded
with biology in this era, and many bodies included implants that
helped boost immunity, strength, and other basic functioning.
"What do you have for us, Casva?" Rols asked once the two were
inside the housing unit of their comrade.
"My newest creation," s/he replied, "Are you looking?"
"The flower?" Bastello asked, "What about it?"
"I've been tweaking the genes of it for the past few weeks,"
Casva sad, "I bought a gene manipulation kit at the hobby store.
With all the effort I've put into it, I think I've been able to
create the most beautiful flower ever." A look at the scene
right now would reveal a flower, a computer attached to the
flower, and a solar panel similarly attached to the flower.
"This solar panel allows me to get more energy to the flower
faster," Casva says, "Sure, sure, it's not natural like other
hobbyists like, but hey, it gets it faster to the best part."
"So, what do you have to show us?" Rols asked, "It's a flower.
It's not even open. It's very much closed."
"Okay, watch this," Casva replies. S/He turns to his/her
computer and presses a few keys, and then flips three switches
attached to the solar panel.
With all that, the flower bloomed. It was a rose, but not any
ordinary rose. The petals started to shift in color, twisting
and turning into oranges, purples, greens, blues, yellows, the
colors moving in and out much like waves would smash in the
ocean. The psychedelic colors of the flower molded, morphed,
grew, rose, shrunk, and receded. But, just as they had managed
to be amazed entirely by this one spectacle of the flower,
something else happened. It started to turn. The head of the
flower was turning at at utmostly slow pace, adding to the
immense beauty of the plant, allowing others to afford a greater
appreciation of its colors. And, then something strange
happened... All throughout the room, a sound could be heard. A
very gentle and increasing hum could be heard coming from the
center of the flower. It almost sounded like a choral voice.
Very light. Very gentle. Very delicate. This flower, whose
colors were changing and morphing constantly, its head slowly
turning, and now, the perfect voice of a human resonating from
it... In one more minute, all these functions would stop, and it
would close again.
"Wow, that was amazing," Bastello said, "I mean, I've seen some
flowers do some crazy things, but that was absolutely brilliant."
"Seven thousand lines of altered genes, my friend," Casva said,
tapping his/her computer, "There are billions I have yet to tap
in to."
"I have not seen anything so beautiful in all my years," Rols
said.
"Yeap," Casva replied, "It takes 12 hours of the solar panel
being charged just to get two minutes. I'm trying to reduce that
time without harming the abilities of the plant."
"You know, Casva," Bastello said, "Several hundred years ago,
toiling with things like genetics was considered a social
violation. It was considered heresy, playing as god, to do what
you've done."
"Oh, I know," Casva replied, "And only a few hundred years
earlier than that, it was considered heresy to paint a picture
of something that didn't include angels or god. So many
paintings were burned, so many libraries were leveled. And, if
we also want to dig into the past, you'll remember that what
doctors did was considered heretical, because everyone thought
that god planned for them a death date -- and prolonging that
date was considered heresy."
"Yeah, you think people would learn to live and let live," Rols
said, "If it doesn't bother you, don't fuck with it."
"I don't think it's that, precisely," Casva said, as he
unplugged a few wires from his/her computer, and then looking up
to his/her comrades, "Actually, I think it's learning what
bothers you and what doesn't bother you. The Nazis could
actually argue that, by letting the Jews live in peace, they
were being bothered. Homophobes of the early 20th century argued
that by allowing Homosexuals to live in peace, they were being
bothered. You wouldn't think it at first, but the 'sanctity of
marriage' has just about the same foundation as the 'sanctity of
the white race.' Most of the time, it is the persecutor whose
psychology is, in fact, not much more grown from when he was
perhaps three or four years ago. It is the fault of the
persecutor to harbor the sick ideas of oppression -- not the
fault of the oppressed to fight back."
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