In the thousands of years left in the human species' arc of existence, there will hopefully be a record, a repository, a great library filled with words
and images from our past, our present and whatever is left of our future-- moments great and small recorded in Literature and the Arts, and by Science preserved beyond the ethers
of entropy to keep for all time the works of our days and the tableaux of our lives. For it is by words and images that will we be remembered to the gods.
This image,
unfortunately, will also be in the record we present before the Cosmos. Sorry about
that.*
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* Completely random thought to be added to the scrolls: What if we could only speak or write ten words each day? We'd get to the point pronto, and to what mattered...
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