SPOOF OF THE WEEK

The Invention Of Water

Part Three of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Continuing Readers: Please, page down past the brief material in italics.

New Readers: If you missed a previous part, you’ll find it appended after Part Three. Here’s the brief introduction to these remarkable notes, repeated for your convenience.

An unexpected manuscript showed up in our inbox. We were immediately convinced of its authenticity and decided we had to share it with you. It was accompanied by the following note:

“Hi, there. How’s life working out? Who am I? That’s for me to know and for you to guess. Let me just say that I witnessed the invention of everything. And I kept good meeting notes.

"I wanted every planet to come with an instruction manual, but my suggestion was a nonstarter. I decided the next best thing I could do is release my notes. I hope they help clarify things for you.

"I sent them by Multi-Verse Mail to all the planets projected to have life on them that could read. As far as the earth goes, I addressed it to NewsLugh.com. I figured it would exist about the time the news would come in especially handy. Why a humor magazine? Hey, I think I’m a bit of humorist myself.

"Sorry, but I have to be a little vague about the participants in the meeting, because they’re all very high up the totem pole of the universe and like to keep out of the spotlight. But I assure you that my notes are accurate.

"I thought I’d start with the invention of sex, since that seems to be the foundation of a lot of things. This particular invention was a tough one because we weren’t sure how to make it work.

"For instance, some of the participants wanted direct physical contact. Others thought the male could mail his sperm to the female, and she could deposit it in an egg bank.

"Direct contact between the two, though it seemed like a daring idea at first, won on its overall merits.

"Then the question became, should it feel good or not? I’m happy to say that feeling good won by a unanimous vote. After all, we want you to like us.

"Looking back, I think we made the right decisions, not only about sex, but about everything. And, speaking of everything, you'll find how it was invented in my notes, too, or, at least, the highlights, like land and water, air, light, people, other animals, plants, and details like gravity and magnetism.

"I hope my doodles help you understand why things are the way they are and appreciate our handiwork. Nothing would make me happier.

"In conclusion, I just want you to know we did our best, and I sure hope you like us for what we decided.”

The Invention of Water

Part Three of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Now that we had invented land, everybody wondered, what could be missing? The day before, there was some talk about an idea called water. Today, we were scheduled to work on it. As usual, the big boss kicked things off.

“OK, it’s time to dive into water. Any thoughts?”

“I’m concerned.”

“Why?”

“Well, we just invented land. Why cover it up?”

“I have another take on the issue.”

“What?”

“It might be kind of neat to balance things out. Land here, water there.”

“That jives with the way we’re thinking about H2O.”

“H2O? Never heard of it. ”

“Sorry. We’re making water out of two of the atomic gizmos Helen invented and one that Oscar came up with. Basic, but the combination works.”

“OK. Go on.”

“Well, he said ‘Land here, water there.’ We’re thinking land is dry, so maybe water is wet.”

“Sounds right."

"Then I think the question becomes, how much water are we talking about?”

“You mean – “

“– I can go with the concept, just not all over the place.”

“Wisely said. Make a note of that. Water in moderation.”

“Sure, boss.”

“What else?”

“I want to know exactly where it goes – on top of the land, under it, inside of it, or above it?”

“We’re thinking it would mostly go on top. But it could actually go anywhere.”

“Then what’s left for land?”

“I don’t think you’re seeing the whole picture. You see, the water is different.”

“How so?”

“It won’t just sit there like land. It will move around.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. Can you provide some detail?”

“We have a concept called “flow,” as in ‘go with the flow.’”

“Go where?”

“Mostly, downhill.”

“How does that work?”

“We plan to make it relatively heavy. So the flow will go to where the land is low. See how it all ties together?”

“Oh, flow, go, low. Got it! So the land is still everywhere that’s high?”

“Generally speaking, yes.”

“Except?”

“We’re working on a way to get it to places where it can’t just flow.”

“What for?”

“Let’s say the land is just sitting there. It’s dry. Now, remember when I said the atoms and molecules would combine in different ways?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we need a way to move things along, and we thought maybe the water could facilitate that.”

“You mean like social grease?”

“Exactly. The water becomes the social grease. And we wouldn’t want to deprive land that just happens to be high of all the interesting possibilities, right?”

“Seems fair. So how do we get it up there?”

“We have an idea with the working name of ‘uporation.’”

“I think you might want to work on that terminology. It’s a little clunky.”

“Mark it for evaluation.”

“Sure. ‘Eva –‘ What if we just tab it as ‘evaporation’?”

“Done deal.”

“Include that for short we call it ‘rain.’”

“I don’t now how you get from ‘uporation’ to 'rain.' It seems like a bit of a stretch.”

“Not really. First the water ‘uporates.’ Excuse me, ‘evaporates.’ Then it rains back down.”

“Like a cycle.”

“Sure. Land high, water low. Question: how do you get water up? Answer: itty-bitty amounts of H2O float up. Get it? That’s why we made the structure so simple.”

“You guys in tech are really on it.”

“Thanks.”

“So go on.”

“Now what happens is, it can drift here, there, and everywhere, and then, at some point, it falls back down.”

“On the land where it’s high?”

“Right. But actually on any land or even on water that happens to be under it. Down it comes. Whoosh!”

“And everything under it gets a fresh supply of social grease?”

“You got it.”

“Like it. Do you have in mind any other function besides social grease?”

“Oh, sure. But no need to go into that now, except I might mention a nifty detail.”

“What’s that?”

“When the land is out of place, say, on your hands, because you’ve been working with it.”

“Yeah?”

“And it’s time to eat, so you want it off of there.”

“You don’t eat land?”

“Not in its basic form. I’ll cover that in time. Let’s stay with land on your hands.”

“OK. What do you do?”

“You employ the flow to move it off.”

“Hey, neat.”

“What about water? Do you eat it?”

“Yes, but we call that by a different name.”

“Why?”

“You don’t chew it. It flows down into you.”

“I see. What are you calling that process?”

“’Downing,’ as in, 'I think I’ll down a glass of water.'”

“Think about that. The whole idea of ‘down’ strikes me as kind of a bummer, especially for the long-term.”

“Sure.”

“I have an easy fix. Why not combine ‘downing’ with what he just said?”

“In what way?”

“You said ‘downing,’ he said, ‘think,’ so how about ‘dinking?’”

“I’m not sure that’s spot on. But play around with it and get back to us.”

“You got it.”

“Any other thoughts on water?”

“Well, as long as it’s there, shouldn’t there be something in it?”

“I’m glad you asked that. We’ve already got some prototypes.”

“Like what?”

“Depends on how long the water and the land have been mixing things up.”

“They don’t do that from the get-go?”

“How can they? The water can’t arrive until after what you sometimes still derogate as dust agglomerates into planets.”

“That’s understandable. But then where does it come from?”

“Good question. We figure we’ll add it with these traveling objects we’re calling comets.”

“They lug the water around? How do they do that without it flying off? Are there compartments?”

“Not necessary. We plan for the comets to spend most of their time where the temps are quite cold, so the water freezes and locks onto whatever land the comet is made of.”

“Cool. And?”

“Well, as you know, all the items in the really big thing we’re inventing are moving in three directions at once – spinning, circling, or heading out, sometimes maybe in. So, statistically speaking, they’re bound to intersect from time to time.”

“So the comet smacks into the agglomeration?”

“Not only that. The impact generates heat. The ice melts. And voila! We have land and water.”

“Sounds perfectly natural to me.”

“Thanks. I take that as a compliment. But now here’s where everything comes together.”

“In what sense?”

“Now that the social grease is in place, the atoms and the molecules start to get together. The more they socialize, the more they make.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Tell me exactly how they make things besides themselves.”

“No problem. They’re loaded with energy. Remember energy?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, and what is energy?”

“You tell me.”

“What else? The most basic kind of what we decided to call life.”

“It is?”

“Sure. What do you think life is, the absence of energy?”

“OK. I can go with that. So we have all these things – land, water –”

“– atoms, molecules – all loaded with energy. And they’re – “

"– all set to combine into more complex forms of life.”

“Depending on?”

“The conditions they find themselves in. Remember when I told you we programmed them so they could be perfectly responsive to whatever environment they get together in.”

“Right. So? “

“We’ve got the ideal deal – land, water, a mixture – “

“– And the result is?”

“The right mix.”

“Wow, I like that.”

“Brilliant. You guys in tech are just awesome.”

“Thanks. Let’s just hope whatever results from all this appreciates what we put into it.”

“How can they not, I mean, to the extent they can?”

“Well put.”

“Can you provide any specifics about what combos might result?”

“There are just a tremendous number of possibilities.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Can you give us some for instances?”

“A couple of basics, more as our thinking evolves. We figure, given the size of the agglomerations we plan to include, or, as we decided to call them, planets, whatever develops would have plenty of room for feet.”

“On land?”

“Right.”

“What about in the water?”

“Remember it’s heavy. So walking would be tough.”

“Got a way around that?”

“We’re looking into a prototype that gets around without feet.”

“That’s interesting. What are you thinking?"

“Something we’re calling swimming.”

“’Swimming’?”

“Yeah. It’s this really sleek thing that can slip through the water by kind of wiggling from side to side, pushing water this way and that, which in turn pushes it forward.”

“Seems like an appropriate accommodation.”

“So nothing in the water walks?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Don’t forget. Way at the bottom of the water there’s land. Some things could walk on that, especially if they’re smaller, so they wouldn’t have to move much water out of the way as they go along.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’re intimating that we could have creatures all over the place? Land, water, wherever. ”

“Well, everywhere that can support something. That’s the way the atoms and molecules are set up. They have this great urge to combine. Give them a chance and, blam, they snap together and make something that fits into whatever the livable niche is.”

“Can I just ask a detail? You know I’m a visual type.”

“Sure.”

“What color is the water?”

“We haven’t addressed that yet.”

“Any thoughts?”

“So far it’s just clear.”

“You can see right through it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Anybody have any suggestions?”

“I have a no-brainer.”

“What’s that?”

“When it moves a lot of land around, it could take on the color of whatever land it’s moving around.”

“Good match of form and function. Any other ideas before we wrap things up?”

“Let me just say, even though it’s actually clear, it could reflect things.”

“You mean, whatever happens to be above it?”

“I thought the only thing higher than land and water is rain?”

“Well, evaporation does need a place to go up into and then rain down from.”

“Oh, right. Any thoughts?”

“Some preliminary stuff. We call it, for short, the sky.”

“Seems like a fundamental part of the mix. May I suggest we make that the subject of our next meeting?”

“Then we’re done with water?”

“At least, for the nonce.”

“Good work. Mark the agenda. Tomorrow, we delve into the sky.”

“Already done, boss.”

So now we had a pretty good grip on land and water. An amazing duo, if you ask me. Now, I was looking forward to inventing sky. After all that went into land and water, it seemed like a pretty transparent task. But you never know. Sometimes projects that seem easy as sky turn out to be anything but.

By Tom Attea

The Invention of Land

Part Two of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Now, it came time to invent land. First, we had to tackle a big question: Why should there be anything, instead of nothing? Here are my notes on the meeting:

"OK, today is the day we invent – what did we decide to call the dry stuff?"

"Land, boss."

"Thanks."

"May I say something?"

"Sure."

"Before we go and invent land, let’s ask the big question. Why should there be anything, instead of nothing?"

"Why? You like nothing better? Sounds kind of empty to me."

"Boring!"

"Well, we’re here. That’s already something."

"True, and, as long as we are, don’t we want to do something constructive?"

"Sounds right to me."

"OK, then, that’s it. All in favor of inventing land, raise your hands."

Everybody raised their hands.

"Good. So let’s go on. How do we get the job done?"

"How else? The usual way. Little by little. Then, over time, we have something really big."

"OK. So what do we call the stuff we start with?"

"How about dust?"

"Dust? You want to call the atoms and molecules I’ve been working on for over a week dust?"

"Sorry. It looks like dust."

"That’s what you know. I put all the intelligence required in those tiny wonders for my so-called dust to combine into all kinds of higher creatures and plants."

"You did?"

"Yeah. And don’t think it was easy."

"How do they do that?"

"Easy. They respond to whatever kind of environment they find themselves in and get to work."

"OK, I like that."

"Sure, sure, but right now the dust is just sitting idly by. How do we get it going, so it can amount to something?"

"You’re right. Say, what if we pack it into a really tight ball – I mean, like, incredibly tight – and suddenly, wham-bam, it releases all the energy we squeezed it together with and it flies apart."

"Energy? You never mentioned that before? Is it something new?"

"Oh, sorry about that. You’re right. I forgot to tell you energy is the other half of the tiny wonders I cobbled together in the lab. It makes all the itty-bitty parts do their things – swirl, attract, repel, and combine in all kinds of ways. You name it."

"Oh. Good thing you thought to make it."

"Thanks. Now, I don’t mind the name 'energy.' But can we please think up another name for 'dust'? I can’t stand knocking my marvelously capable inventions like that anymore."

"OK, OK, anybody got any suggestions?"

"I have it. The dust is the foundation of everything, right?"

"Right. So it really matters?"

"Un-huh."

"Then, hey, why don’t we call it matter?"

"Matters? Matter. I like that. Neat tie-in."

"Then it’s settled. Everything is made up of energy and matter."

"Why don’t we say them in the order they’d logically occur: first we have matter and then we have energy?"

"I could go for that but, to tell you the truth, I made them so they’re interchangeable."

"You did?"

"Yeah. But I’ll grant you this. They sound better if you put the 'matter' first, as in 'matter and energy.' Turn that on your tongue, and I think you’ll agree."

"Sounds better to me. So let’s go with that. Everything in the universe we plan on building is made up of matter and energy."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"What about where all the stuff goes? We need a place for it."

"When you’re right, you’re right. So we also have a place."

"Sounds way too indefinite. How about we alter the word 'place' a wee bit?"

"As in?"

"Well, what if we take out the “l,” which is just standing there all by itself, bend it into an “s” shape, and put it first. Then we’d have 'space.'"

"Nice word. Sounds right."

"I agree. So then 'space' it is! Anything else?"

"Is the big thing we’re going to invent going to be there a while or is all this effort for next to nothing?"

"Let’s hope for a long while."

"We have to provide for that, don't we?"

"For what?"

"The duration."

Good point. But 'duration'? Do we like that?"

"Sounds kind of wimpy to me."

"Yeah, the syllables just seem to tumble all over each other."

"Let's just do what we did with 'dust' and think up a neater name."

"Excellent."

"Hey, why not pick a word that goes with how big a job we have ahead of us?"

"Like what?"

"Time."

"Has a nice ring to it."

"Yeah. Sounds long, too. Anybody for changing the name 'duration' to 'time'?"

Once again, everybody raised their hands.

"OK, so now, let’s review things. We have four things: matter and energy, space and time. Are we all right on that?"

"What do you think? You did the grunt work on most most of the stuff."

"I think it will do for now. I mean, we’d be getting ahead of ourselves, but the guys down in the lab are working on the ways these things interact."

"Interact? Oh, yeah, I can see that. Can you be a little more specific?"

"No problem. We’re toying with concepts like motion, gravity, magnetism."

"Sounds fascinating. But let’s stay with the topic at hand."

"You’re right, boss. Land is tough enough to invent."

"OK, now, we’ve got all this matter. We pack it into a tight ball. When it’s packed tight enough, the pressure releases and sends the matter flying every which way. How’s that?"

"So far, so good. We should have a name for such a big event. Any ideas?"

"First, let me ask, should it have a sound effect?"

"Why?"

"What, a big thing like that should happen and there’s no sound?"

"You’re right. Even when we play pool and one little ball bangs off another one, there’s a smack. A sound effect is only fitting."

"Who's going to be there to hear it?"

"Always metaphysical. Can we just stay with the practical stuff for now?"

"Sure. Just thought I'd bring it up."

"Anybody got a name suggestion?"

"Well, since the whole thing is so sudden it could all kind of go bang."

"Sounds reasonable. So we call it a 'bang.'"

"You mean, 'The Bang.'"

"Right."

"That’s it? Something this big?"

"OK, OK, how about 'The Big Bang'?"

"Very workable. But I don’t know if it captures the romance of it all."

"Only a scientist could think of such a clunky name for such a grand event."

"You’re the literary person. Give us a little help here."

"Sure, sure. Well, it’s really kind of like a birth, right?"

"Yeah. A birth. Go on."

"So that’s what we call it. 'The Birth.'"

"Much better than 'The Bang' if you ask me. But can’t we give it some appropriate magnitude, like the way we put 'big' into 'The Bang'?"

"How about this? We call it 'The Birth of the Universe.'"

"Wow, that knocks me out."

"OK, it’s settled. 'The Birth of the Universe' it is. I’m making an executive decision on that. Now, here we have this matter, flying out in all directions. What happens next?"

"What else has to happen?"

"Are we going to invent creatures or aren’t we?"

"Yes, we agreed on that."

"So where are they supposed to walk. On the dust?"

"You’ve got a point there."

"Don’t tell me."

"What?"

"No sooner do we send the dust flying – sorry, I mean the matter – than we have to get it to come back together again."

"No, no, we’re past just a redo. We need to work it out so that now the matter agglomerates in a whole lot of disparate places."

"Aggloma – what?"

" – erates, as in clumps up."

"Oh, fancy word for the same thing if you ask me. But go ahead."

"OK, so it agglomerates into really big things that creatures can actually walk on."

"That big, hunh?"

"Only other choice is to make their feet really tiny."

"Right again. You’ve got an incredible understanding of this."

"Thanks. I’ve thought about it a lot."

"So now it sits there, and we have what part of the plan in place."

"Space."

"What?"

"In space. Remember, we renamed 'place'?"

"Oh, right."

"Well, it's a very basic part of things. After all, no agglomerations, no places for much of anything else."

"Solid thinking. So these agglomerations are really 'it?'"

"Well, fundamentally speaking. Hey, I have it. Why don’t we put the word 'plan' together with the word 'it'? So we call each one of the agglomerations a 'planit.'"

"Way too transparent. We can be more subtle than that, can’t we?"

"OK, OK, let me think. What’s the most artful way to get the job done?"

"What else? We change only one letter in the name."

"Same old, same old."

"But it works. So let’s stay with that. Now, we don’t want to mess with the word 'plan,' do we?"

"Too essential to the entire process. After all, what can you do without a plan except make a mishmash?"

"So then we’re down to 'it.'"

“'It' it is. And I like the way it ends, with that very definite 't' sound at the end."

"Me, too. So that leaves only the 'i' to work with. What do we know about it?"

"You mean, about the 'i' in 'it'?"

"What else?"

"We decided way back when to call the thing a vowel, right?"

Right."

"So let’s just work with the available variations."

"Why don't I write them out on the easel, boss?"

"Good idea. Go for it."

I got up and went to the easel. I picked up a Cosmic Marker and went to work.

"We have, in the usual order of the vowels, 'planat,' 'planet,' 'planit,' which we already nixed, 'planot,' and “'planut,' which sounds a little dicey to me."

"I see two contenders – 'planet' and 'planot.' What do you think?"

"I think it would be really counterproductive to name something that we’ve worked so hard on with one out of only two syllables being a big fat “not,” staring everybody right in the face for a long, long time."

"You’re right. So what if just we go with 'planet'? Everybody in favor of calling the balls of dust – excuse me – the agglomerations of matter 'planets,' raise your hands."

All present except one raised their hands.

"Why the abstention?"

"I don’t know, boss, I kind of like the crazy sound of a 'planut.'"

"Well, you always were a bit of a nut. 'Planet' carries by a majority vote."

"OK, so now we have a planet."

"Correction. Planets. Remember, the whole thing, as planned, is going to be huge."

"You’re right. We have planets. What else?"

"What does the land look like? Is it bumpy, like an agglomeration often is, or is it smooth in places?"

"Do we want the creatures on it to have to walk around on bumps all the time?"

"Would that make them happy?"

"No way. We can do better for them than that."

"Hey, what if we go all the way and make the whole thing flat as a pancake? Then they could walk for miles and miles."

"Then it wouldn’t be an agglomeration."

"Excess. You always become excessive."

"Sorry, boss, it was just a thought."

"OK, then, how about we keep it round but it's smooth as a cue ball?"

"Can you please keep your mind out of the pool hall for a few minutes longer? We’ll be done soon enough."

"I think all smooth is really boring myself. I don't care whether you call it a pancake or a cue ball."

"Me, too."

"I think it’s time to remember our variety principle."

"Agreed. So this is it. We have bumps and smooth places."

"Excellent. But, as long as we’re talking about variety, how about hard and soft?"

"And, hey, what about all kinds of colors?"

"OK! Wow, this planet thing is starting to sound really interesting."

"Do you think your atoms and molecules can manage all those variations?"

"No problem. I worked out the mathematics. The matter is ready to be as perfectly responsive to whatever conditions it winds up in as water tumbling down a hillside."

"Water? Did you say water?"

"Yeah?"

"What’s that?"

"Something else we’ve been working on in the lab."

"Really? What’s it do?"

"What? All you want is land? Think about it. Shouldn’t there be something else, just to even things out?"

"Interesting but –"

" – I agree."

"Sure, boss."

"I also had this nagging feeling that we might be missing something."

"Hey, you just gave me a flash."

"What?"

"The concept behind it. Duality! Land longs for something else to complete it, like left-right, up-down, boy-girl?"

"Good observation. So let’s all think about it. We reconvene tomorrow morning, same time, same place."

So we brought the invention of land to a successful completion. But what else would we need for a planet to be a planet? I mean, something really gorgeous. Hmm, I went home thinking about that. The more I did, the more I became convinced that water had a place.

By Tom Attea

The Invention Of Sex

Part One of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Once we voted to go ahead with the idea of the universe, we had to deal with a lot of details. In fact, the day after we took the vote, we had a crisis on our hands. If there was going to be something in the universe besides vacant planets and underutilized suns, especially something that might enjoy our big achievement, the item or items would have to have a way to replicate. We didn’t want to have to show up every time the job had to get done.

At first, figuring out how it would work sounded easy enough. Who knew how many complications there would be? I’ll just give you the top line. Here’s how the discussion went.

“I know we’ve all put in a long day,” the CEO said, “but nobody goes home till we put the lid on the reproduction issue, OK?”

Everybody agreed with the big boss. So tonight would be the night we invented sex. I became excited just thinking about it. Since I can’t identify the participants anymore than I do, you’ll just have to make do with the dialogue.

“Are we sticking with the idea that most of them are incomplete in themselves?”

“Anybody want most creatures to be hermaphrodites?”

Nobody raised their hands.

“OK. So now we have these two halves. Let’s pick a species so we can see what we’re talking about."

“How about human beings?”

“I can go with that. What do we call the two halves?”

“How about men and women?”

“As in male and female?”

“Right."

"I like it. So back to the reason we’re working late. How do they reproduce?”

“Since there are two halves, they’ll need some way to mix things together, so a third thing results, right?”

“Sounds on the money. So what do we call these two things?”

“How about the male has this thing we call a sperm, and the woman has this other thing we call an egg?”

“Brilliant. Now we have a sperm and an egg. Where do we go from here?”

“You mean, how do they get together?”

“Yeah.”

“What if the male mails his sperm to the female?”

“It arrives in her mailbox?”

“Right.”

“Might die on the way. Remember, in the early days they won’t know about all the benefits of freezing, just weather-related incidents.”

“You’re right. We have to give them time to discover advanced stuff for themselves.”

Here’s where I got in my big suggestion.

“Hey, I have it. What if we provide each planet with an instruction manual?”

“Why would we do that?" the boss wanted to know. "We decided to give them brains, didn’t we?”

“Yes, boss, but, you know, even an alarm clock comes with an instruction manual. Don’t you think an entire planet could use one?”

“It would save the inhabitants a lot of grief,” a pal of mine volunteered.

“No, no, we’re smarter than that," the big boss told us. "We can create creatures that can figure things out for themselves, or I’m ready to scrap the entire universe project right now.”

“But, boss – “

“ – Look, would you buy a car that comes with a mechanic in the trunk? No. If we build the universe right, it should be able to drive out of here and do just fine on its own, OK?”

“OK,” I said, “just a thought.”

Since that was the CEO talking, I knew I had to give in. But I knew right then what a great service it would be for me to keep good notes.

“Now, back to the sperm and egg. What happens next?”

“I have it. What if we do direct deposit?”

“How would that work?”

“Well, we’d give the male a tube and the woman a receptacle. He puts the tube in the receptacle and delivers the sperm.”

“Where’s the egg?”

“Where else? In the receptacle. Only way up there, so it’s safe.”

“Like it. Sounds like a plan.”

“Hold it. Are we sure the male should have the tube?”

“Let’s just say for now, one half has a tube and the other half has a receptacle.”

“How do they work with that setup? They’d have to be mighty close.”

“Hey, that sounds interesting.”

“What?”

“Being mighty close. It might even help them like each other.”

“Hmm, do you think they’ll need help with that?”

“Who knows? Probably in some cases. I don’t see any downside.”

“OK, so they get close. What happens next?”

“You mean, how does he make the deposit?”

“Right.”

“What do you think? He puts it in the receptacle.”

“But how does he get it in there? Wouldn’t his tube have to be stiff?”

“Probably be a help to them.”

“Right. But should it be stiff all the time?”

“I don’t’ think that’s advisable. How would he, say, run from wild animals or look uninterested when he thought it would be attractive to a memeber of the female half?”

“Doesn’t sound like good design to me. Let’s match form and function here. It’s only stiff when he needs it to be. OK?”

“Sounds right. So how does it get stiff?”

“I have it. What if they hold each other in their arms?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.”

“And they rub their bodies together?”

“Why?”

“Let’s say it makes them feel good – and we tie feeling good in with stiffness. He feels good, up it goes.”

“What about the female half? Shouldn’t she feel good, too?”

“Seems fair to me. Hey, I just thought of a win-win situation.”

“What’s that?”

“She feels good and helps the process along by creating some lubrication to help with the tube.”

“Fantastic tie in.”

“We’d have to build that into the nerve endings.”

“I think we can manage that. The better they feel, the happier they are, right?”

“Before we get carried away with all this feel-good stuff, let’s ask a more basic question. Should it feel good to replicate or should it be painful?”

“Do we want them to do it or don’t we?”

“After all the work we’re doing to get them to the point where they’re on a planet and ready to go for it, we better want them to.”

“I’ve got a build on that. What if we make it feel so good they can’t resist doing it?”

“Now, there’s an outstanding thought. You mean sort of an insurance policy that, no matter how dumb they might be in some things, at least, they’d reproduce, so some smarter people might come along.”

“Right.”

“Terrific concept. So let’s go for it. All in favor of making sex feel so good they can’t resist doing it raise their hands.”

All the hands went up.

“OK, that’s it. Motion carried. Boy, are these creatures ever gonna love us. Anything else?”

“Well, we have to think of everybody. So, good as it feels, there are bound to be people who somehow decide sex isn’t a good thing.”

“Are you kidding, with all the benefits we’re loading it with?"

“Who knows, guilt of some kind?”

“About what? We’re making the design choices, not them.”

“Of course. But you know how much we like variety. What a joy to see all the molecules combine this way and that! So we have to plan for everything. What do you think? Should the naysayers be able to resist doing it?”

“I think those few who have a negative viewpoint should be able to decline, but I think we should make it really tough for them. It’s the solid middle ground.”

“I can accept that.”

“Good."

"Now, I want to get back to the design thing for a moment. They’re rubbing their bodies together. They’re feeling good. What happens?”

“What?”

“Brush burns.”

“What do you mean?”

“What are we making the skin out of, vinyl?”

“You’re right. Hey, I have it.”

“What?”

“We take an idea right off the top of their heads.”

“What’s that?”

“Hair. We put some hair down there, sort of like a cushion.”

“Long hair like they have on their heads? That might complicate things.”

“I have it. What if we make a special kind of short, fuzzy hair? Form and function, perfectly joined.”

“Do you think they’ll be OK with that? Does it seem too animal?”

“It might embarrass them, particularly in the early days, when they’re trying to distance themselves from the other creatures we plan to introduce.”

“You mean, like monkeys?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know. I think having some hair here and there might help them feel more at home with the other creatures.”

“Instead of all by their lonesome selves, feeling desolate on some planet in the middle of somewhere?”

"Right."

“Good insight. Very harmonious. I want you to know that. OK, so let’s recap it and take a vote. Here it is. The male has a tube. Can we agree on that?”

“I’m too tired to go on about who has what.”

“Good. It’s getting late. So let’s move on.”

“Hold it, hold it, let’s not rush ahead too fast.”

“What do you mean?”

“What makes the sperm go from the tube way up to where the egg is?”

“Excellent question. Any thoughts?”

“How about this? At some point, during all the rubbing together, he feels so good he launches it toward the woman.”

“Yeah, yeah, but what powers the launch?”

“What else do we have to work with? Muscle power. You know, they contract.”

“OK, that’s it. The muscles start to contract and we have a launch.”

“And it feels good.”

“Really good. And what about the woman. She has muscles, too.”

“When you’re right, you’re right. So her muscles start to contract.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I have it. So out comes even more lubrication.”

“Love it."

“And, hey, boss, what if she has little fans way up there, just to help move the egg toward the sperm?"

"You mean, like, cilia?"

"Right."

"Equality if I ever heard it. Make a note to include cilia."

"You got it. Nice coincidence, since we decided fans go more with feminine fashions. By the way, I have another way to make nice.”

“What? We haven’t made this enough fun yet?”

“No, no, get this. We give the male a really big reward when he deposits the sperm, and the female an equally big reward when she really lubricates the receptacle. Then they’ll want to do it even more and, when they think how much pleasure we put into the design, they’re love us like crazy.”

“Great observation. So what do we call this good feeling?”

“What else? The climax.”

“Done. A climax it is.”

“Can I just enlarge on that?”

“Sure.”

“Well, after they do it and she finds herself with a little replica inside of her, she’s going to have to go through a lot, while the guy just sits back and thinks, Wow, look what I did. So I think she should get a reward commensurate with her responsibilities.”

“Good thinking. Anybody got any suggestions?”

“I have it. What if she can feel good more often than the guy?”

“You mean she can have multiple climaxes?”

“Why not? It would be tied to all the rubbing around, not just the launch. Besides, when it comes to lubrication, who’s counting?”

“Is this getting hot or not? I think we’ve covered it. Anything else before we take a vote.”

“One thing. If sex is going to feel as good as we say it is, they’ll want to do it a lot. But there’s no way one woman can have that many kids.”

“You’re right. Not only that, how can we ask one man to support that many kids? So the question is, can they only do it when they have making kids on their minds to help them get excited?”

“That’s a lot of holding back.”

“Right. So what’s the answer?”

“Well, let’s think about that. If they’re holding each other in their arms, rubbing around together and feeling good, and then we have a climax – hey, maybe they can even both go off at the same time – the whole experience might be a great way just to get them in each other’s arms to help them care about each other.”

“You mean, sort of amity through proximity?”

“Right. They’re in each other’s arms, it feels good, so they feel good about each other. Hey, maybe when they love each other it even becomes one way they express love. How about that for a fantastic concept?”

“Great. Just great. Anything else?”

“Just a detail. You know I’m a numbers guy.”

“What?”

“Well, we know we want them to succeed at replication, so how does that influence the supply of sperm and eggs?”

“Good point. Any suggestions?”

“Sure. More is more. All we do is make sure the guy has plenty of sperm to launch and the lady has a plenty of eggs to drop.”

“We need to get specific. First, let’s deal with the man. How about a hundred a pop?”

“A hundred? Come on, man, we think bigger than that. I refer you to the overall plan. The universe, we agree, is going to be based on numbers in the zillions – planets, stars, you name it.”

“So what if we give the male zillions of sperm?”

“That may be overdoing it. I’m not sure he could get around with that much sperm between his legs.”

“What if we settle for billions?”

“Still seems like more than the required amount.”

“Millions, then?”

“Per launch?”

“Yeah. How can he miss?”

“OK. Then, like, what about the number of eggs?”

“We wouldn’t want him fertilizing millions of eggs at a time.”

“You got that right. We can’t have the woman trying to make room for that many replicas at once. How about if, as a control, we just provide for one egg at a time.”

“Sounds good, but a little too predictable. What if every so often there are two, three, four, even five of them?”

“Why don’t we just agree that generally there will be one and once in a while two or more?”

“And get this. What if from time to time after the sperm meets up with the egg, the combo can split? So we get a twofer – two babies for one good time together? It’s like what they’ll one day call a BOGO sale: buy one, get one free.”

“Now we’ve got some really interesting variety going. So the guy has millions of sperm, and the woman has…”

“An egg a month.”

“OK, seems workable. But let’s examine the implications of that. The woman produces an egg a month for how long?”

“Oh, maybe thirty-five, forty years. We don’t want her having kids when it will be too hard on her body.”

“OK, and the male produces millions of sperm every time he gets excited, maybe three times or so a week for how long?”

“He could go for more years since he doesn’t have to carry the child.”

“Might also be a good idea, because the males will get into more trouble, especially in the early days, when they have to go out and hunt for dinner, etc.”

“You’re right. So let’s let him be ready for launch for, say, fifty, sixty years or, if he’s quite a guy, even longer?”

“Sounds right. Over their lifetimes, he produces billions of sperm and she produces hundreds of eggs.”

“How can they miss? I think we’ve got reproduction nailed.”

“Before we wrap things up, let’s ask the tough question. What about all the sperm and eggs that don’t make it? What do we to think about them? After all, every one of them will be a genetcally unique, one-of-a-kind potential offspring?”

“Well, at least, on the particular planet. Let's let the numbers work for their benefit and ours."

"How do we do that?"

"Simple as a dimple. When they realize the enormous odds against being the one or two offspring, they’ll appreciate how lucky they are to be the sperm and egg that made it.”

“You mean the odds against a successful hookup help them appreciate their lives?”

“Exactamundo! Know anything else with odds against it like that?”

“I think that about wraps it up. Let’s vote on it. All in agreement with sex as we’ve invented it?”

The yeas were unanimous.

So we knocked off for the night. We knew we had a big day ahead of us. In fact, quite a few big days.

By Tom Attea

RETURN TO HOME