The Invention Of Land; An Eyewitness Account - Part Two of The Invention of Everything
Friday, October 31st, 2008Continuing Readers: Please, page down past the brief introductory note.
New Readers: If you missed Part One, “The Invention of Sex,” you’ll find it elsewhere on this site or in the archieve of previous issues at NewsLaugh; the link is on the lower left. 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 Land
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.
Tom Attea, humorist and creator of NewsLaugh.com/ NewsLaugh.com, has had six shows produced Off-Broadway. Critics have called his writing “delightfully funny,” “witty,” with “great humor and ebullience” and “good, genuine laughs.”
