{"id":147,"date":"2008-06-01T09:15:00","date_gmt":"2008-06-01T17:15:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/?p=147"},"modified":"2008-06-01T09:15:00","modified_gmt":"2008-06-01T17:15:00","slug":"continuing-ed","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/?p=147","title":{"rendered":"Continuing Ed"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I can almost remember mortality.  I lived each day as it came, at the rate of one second per second\u2014 because really, what else was there to do?<\/p>\n<p>I can almost imagine immortality:  all of infinite entropy stretching out before you, more than worlds enough and time to scale any peak a mind might set for itself.  What would it take, I wonder, to provoke such a being to haste?  What need to hurry, with eternity to play in?  What value could mere moments hold?  Mere millennia?<\/p>\n<p>Moments matter a great deal to me.  Moments are all I have.  Here on <i>Eriophora <\/i>we exist in some state between those others, one foot in the grave, the other on an event horizon.  Tidal forces tear us straight up the middle.  I have two or three hundred years to ration across the lifespan of a universe.  I could bear witness to any point in time, or any hundred\u2014 any hundred-thousand if I slice my life thinly enough\u2014 but I am not immortal.  I will never see <i>everything<\/i>.  I will never see even  a fraction.<\/p>\n<p>I have to <i>choose<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>When you come to fully appreciate the deal you&#8217;ve made \u2014 ten or fifteen builds out, when the trade-off leaves the realm of mere knowledge and sinks deep as cancer into your bones\u2014 you become a miser.  You can&#8217;t help it.  You ration out your waking moments to the barest minimum:  just enough to keep the mission on track, to plan your latest countermove against the Chimp, just enough (if you haven&#8217;t yet moved beyond the need for Human companionship) for sex and snuggles and a bit of warm mammalian comfort against the endless dark.  And then you hurry back to your crypt, to hoard what&#8217;s left of a human lifespan against the unwinding of the cosmos.<\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s been plenty of time to educate myself in matters of biology.  Time enough for a hundred postgraduate degrees, thanks to the best that aeons-old learning technology has to offer.  I have never availed myself of those opportunities:  they would burn down my tiny candle for a litany of mere fact, they would fritter away my precious, endless, finite life.  The vistas of this universe surpass the most sublime religious rapture; mere book-learning would be a dry and dusty garnish to trade for the Cassiopeia Remnant.<\/p>\n<p>Now, though.  Now, I want to <i>know<\/i>.  This thing crying out across the gulf, this creature massive as a moon, wide as a solar system, tenuous and fragile as an insect&#8217;s wing:  I&#8217;d gladly cash in some of my life to learn its secrets.  How does it work?  How can it even <i>live <\/i>in this wasteland of absolute zero, much less think?  What godlike intellect must this thing possess to see us coming from half a lightyear away, to deduce the nature of our eyes and our instruments, to send us a signal that we can even <i>detect<\/i>, much less understand?<\/p>\n<p>And what happens when we punch through it at a fifth the speed of light?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I can almost remember mortality. I lived each day as it came, at the rate of one second per second\u2014 because really, what else was there to do? I can almost imagine immortality: all of infinite entropy stretching out before you, more than worlds enough and time to scale any peak a mind might set [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[27],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-147","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiblet"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/147","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=147"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/147\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=147"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=147"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rifters.com\/crawl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=147"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}