It’s been a rough summer for fans of romance, superheroes, and superhero weddings. In fact, in all the years I’ve been reading comics and following romantic sub-plots, I can’t remember a time when there was this much melodrama and heartbreak. I understand that any epic romance is going to involve a healthy bit of emotional strain, especially when it involves superheroes. There comes a point when it just becomes too much.After the deconstruction and denigration of superhero romance that unfolded in X-men Gold #30, I feel like we’re dangerously close to that point. It’s as though everyone involved in making superhero comics is admitting that superheroes can’t get married. They can’t have a functional, compelling romance and still be interesting.That sort of sentiment is basically an affirmation of Marvel’s justification for undoing Spider-Man’s marriage to Mary Jane Watson in the infamous One More Day story. Given the relative infamy of that story line and the recent upheaval with the X-men, many fans of both superheroes and romance were placing a lot of hope that the wedding of Batman and Catwoman could help stop the bleeding in Batman #50.
I certainly counted myself among those who was very excited about this event. I even admit I really wanted this to make up for the disheartening outcome of X-men Gold #30. The romantic in me wanted at least one superhero wedding this summer that didn’t end in heartbreak or tragedy.Well, if you saw the same spoilers in the New York Times that I did just two days before Batman #50 came out, you already know that’s not what happened. Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle did not get married. That means in terms of superhero weddings, the summer of 2018 is now 0 for 2.However, that outcome did not compound my lingering disappointment from X-men Gold #30. I’ll even go so far as to say that Batman #50 didn’t send the state of superhero romance past the point of no return. It didn’t improve the state of affairs. It was disappointing, but not to the point where it damaged a story or a romance beyond repair.
Before I explain, I want to establish that many of the details beyond this point are heavy spoilers. Seeing as how this comic was already spoiled a couple days prior to its release, much to the chagrin of comic retailers, I don’t think I need to place too many warnings. I still recommend that people buy the comic, but there’s more going on here than a wedding that didn’t happen, much more so than what we saw in X-men Gold #30.By nearly every measure, Batman #50 approaches the concept of a superhero wedding differently than X-men Gold #30. The wedding of Kitty Pryde and Colossus was set up as this big, momentous affair between an established couple that overcame a lot just to have the opportunity to get married. They brought in friends, family, and fellow superheroes from across the X-men comics.
In contrast, the ceremony in Batman #50 was very small. In fact, there wasn’t much of a ceremony to speak of. The only ones who were present besides Batman and Catwoman were Aflred, Bruce Wayne’s butler and long-time confidante, and a lone judge who was already drunk so that he wouldn’t remember his or Catwoman’s identity. Batman always has a plan for that sort of thing. That’s why he’s Batman.On top of that, Batman is the one who proposed to Catwoman back in Batman #24. He’s the one who pitched the idea of getting married in the first place. That’s critical because Kitty Pryde was the one who proposed to Colossus in X-men Gold #20. That matters because she’s also the one who broke it off and at the last second, no less. Things were a bit less cruel in Batman #50 and that’s saying something for a Batman comic.
At one point in the story, Batman makes clear that he still wants to marry Catwoman. He’s not having second thoughts. It’s Catwoman who makes the fateful decision to break it off and she doesn’t wait until half-way through the ceremony, either. To put that another way, an admitted jewel thief who enjoys having sex on rooftops showed more decency than Kitty Pryde on her failed wedding day.It’s not a public spectacle that turns into an equally public debacle. It’s a private affair that simply doesn’t pan out. There’s no awkward reception. There’s no attempt to salvage it by shoehorning another romance into the mix just so someone gets married, as though such romances can be swapped out like batteries. It just doesn’t happen.Moreover, Catwoman actually gives a reason for not going through with the wedding and, unlike Kitty Pryde, it’s not a wholly contrived. She establishes throughout Batman #50, through a series of montages documenting their romance over the years, why she loves him and why he’s such an effective hero. In the process, she reveals something profound about Batman.
What makes Batman both effective and iconic is how he takes the pain of a tragedy, namely the death of his parents, and turns it into strength. The same pain that would break a lesser man drives him to do so much more. He’s the Dark Knight who defends Gotham. He’s a hero who deserves to fight alongside demigods and aliens on the Justice League. For him to be Batman, he needs that pain to fuel him.From Catwoman’s perspective, Batman finding happiness means denying him the fuel he needs to be Batman. That’s not a realization that just randomly pops into her mind at the last second, though. This is something the Joker actually points out to her in Batman #49. It has less to do with whether or not she loves him and more to do with him being the hero that Gotham needs.
That doesn’t make Catwoman’s decision any less disappointing, but it’s still nowhere near as callous or selfish as Kitty Pryde’s decision in X-men Gold #30. I know it’s somewhat unfair to keep comparing the two, given the different circumstances of their relationship, but those distinctions highlight an important element that the failed Batman/Catwoman wedding has that the Colossus/Kitty Pryde wedding didn’t.What happens in Batman #50 is definitely a setback for Batman and Catwoman’s relationship, but it doesn’t fundamentally destroy it. In fact, there’s a very critical detail at the end of the issue that leaves the door open for this romance to keep evolving. I won’t spoil it, but it unfolds in such a way that makes romance fans like me want to root for this relationship.The same definitely cannot be said for the Colossus/Kitty Pryde relationship. After the way things played out during their wedding, it really feels as though their romance is damaged beyond repair. It’s no longer a love story. It’s an outright tragedy, one that would need an even greater contrivance to repair at this point. In a universe with shape-shifting aliens, though, that’s not wholly unfeasible.
In the grand scheme of things, Batman #50 is still disappointing in the sense that it doesn’t let Batman and Catwoman take their love story to another level. In fact, not a whole lot changes. The way it plays out feels more like a setback rather than a tragedy. The writer of the comic, Tom King, even claims it’s just part of a much larger narrative between Batman and Catwoman.How that story will play out remains to be seen. Given how long it took Batman and Catwoman to get to a point where they try to get married, Batman #50 already gives the impression that their romance is being dragged out. For a couple who has been off and on again since the 1940s, that’s saying something.
If I had to score Batman #50, as both a comic book fan and a romance fan, I’d give it a 6 out of 10. It’s a bit of a letdown, but it’s not nearly as soul-crushing as X-men Gold #30. It still leaves the state of superhero romance in a very precarious state, but at the very least, this book gives me reason for hope.I’ll still be very skeptical of any future superhero wedding for the foreseeable future, though.
How To Disappoint (But NOT Destroy) An Iconic Romance In Batman #50
The (Other) Implications Of The Technology In “Jurassic World”
Movies and TV have a long and colorful history of predicting future technology. The predictions made by “The Simpsons,” alone, are as uncanny as they are creepy. Even when they get the basic laws of physics horribly wrong, they can provide insight into the trends that may very well define our future.
On the spectrum of movies that envision future technology, the “Jurassic Park” franchise occupies a strange part of that spectrum. The original movie, as beloved and successful as it is, did a poor job of predicting the potential of genetic engineering. The entire plot of the movie hinged on the ability of scientists to find sufficiently intact DNA from a 65-million-year-old mosquito and use that to recreate dinosaurs.
Anyone with a passing knowledge of math and the half-life of DNA knows that’s just not possible in the real world. No matter how well-preserved a fossil is, the bonds holding DNA together dissolve completely after about 7 million years so the scientists in “Jurassic Park” wouldn’t even have fragments to work with.
That’s not to say it’s impossible to bring back an extinct species. If you have intact DNA, and we do have it for extinct animals like Mammoths, then there’s no reason why science can’t recreate a creature that no longer exists. The only challenge is gestating the animal without a surrogate, but that’s just an engineering challenge that will likely be solved once artificial wombs are perfected.
Even with that advancement, it would be too late for dinosaurs. Technically, if you had enough working knowledge of how DNA works and how to create an animal from scratch, you could create something that looked like a dinosaur. In fact, it’s already a popular fan theory that none of the animals in “Jurassic Park” were actually dinosaurs. It’s one of the few fan theories that might have been confirmed on screen.
Those theories aside, it’s the the technology on display in “Jurassic World” that has far greater implications. By that, I don’t mean it’ll bring back dinosaurs or other extinct species. It may actually do something much more profound.
Unlike the original movies, both “Jurassic World” and the sequel, “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom,” don’t stop at just bringing back dinosaurs. These movies take place in a world where that spectacle isn’t that exciting anymore. As a result, they start splicing the DNA of other dinosaurs together to create new species, namely the Indominous Rex and the Indoraptor.
While this creates for great action scenes and plenty of dinosaur-driven combat, the true implications of this technology are lost in the spectacle. Take a moment to consider what the science within these movies accomplished. Then, consider what that means for the real world and the future of the human race.
These dinosaurs were not the product of evolution. Evolution works within some pretty rigid limits. It’s a slow, clunky, arduous process that takes a lot of time and a lot of extinction. On top of that, the basic laws of heredity and the inherent limits of hybridization ensure that the transmission of certain traits are next to impossible through natural means.
However, as Dr. Wu himself stated in “Jurassic World,” there’s nothing natural about what what they did. Essentially, the scientists in that movie used the genetic and evolutionary equivalent of a cheat code. There were no barriers to combining the DNA of a T-Rex with that of a Raptor. They just cut and pasted DNA in the same way you would cut and paste text on a word document.
That should sound somewhat familiar to those who have followed this website because that’s exactly what CRISPR does to some extent. It’s basically the cut function for DNA and it exists in the real world. The paste function exists too, although it’s not quite as refined. To that extent, “Jurassic World” is fairly accurate in terms of the technology they used to create the Indominous Rex and Indoraptor.
That’s not to say it’s possible to create the exact same creatures depicted in the movies. There are various anatomical limits to how big, fast, or smart a creature can be, even if there are no genetic barriers to contend with. I don’t know if the creatures created in “Jurassic World” could function in the real world, but the science for making them does exist, albeit in a limited capacity.
That, in and of itself, is a remarkable notion and one that makes the original “Jurassic Park” seem slightly more incredible. If anything, the original movie underestimated the progress that science would make in genetic engineering. That movie just had science rebuilding life from the remnants of existing creatures. We’ve already progressed to the point where we’re starting to make synthetic life from scratch.
This kind of technology has implications that go far beyond bringing extinct animals back from the dead or creating new ones that make for great fight scenes in a movie. It actually has the potential to circumvent evolution entirely in the struggle for survival. “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” even explores this concept, but only to a point.
Without getting too deep into spoiler territory, this movie builds on the same genetics technology that “Jurassic World” introduced with the Indominous Rex. However, it isn’t just applied to dinosaurs. The sequel dares to contemplate how this technology could be used on humans or to supplement human abilities.
It’s not that radical a concept. Humans have, after all, used technology and breeding techniques to domesticate animals that have aided our efforts to become the dominant species on this planet. That process is still hindered by the hard limits of biology. The process in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” is not bound by those limits.
In this movie, dinosaurs go beyond a spectacle at a theme park. They suddenly become a potential asset to further augment human abilities. Some, such as Jeff Goldblum’s character, Ian Malcolm, would argue that such creatures pose a risk to humanity’s survival. I doubt I’m as smart as Dr. Malcolm, but I’d also argue that he’s underselling just how dominant human beings are at the moment.
Maybe if dinosaurs had come back 1,000 years ago when humans were still using swords, spears, and arrows to fight animals, we might have had a problem. Today, humans have access to machine guns, tanks, and combat drones. Even the apex predators of the Jurassic don’t stand a chance.
I would further argue that the same technology that the scientists in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” used to make the Indoraptor is even more valuable in terms of how it can affect humans. After all, if you can copy and paste desirable traits into a dinosaur, then you can do the same to a human.
Doing that might cause plenty of ethical issues that Dr. Malcolm has articulated before, but there’s one factor that overshadows all those arguments and that’s the survival of our species. Let’s face it, the human has its limits. We can’t breathe underwater. Our skin is soft and vulnerable. Our immune system has room for improvement.
There are other mammals out there who can survive extreme cold. There are animals whose immune systems are much more effective than ours. There are even some animals that don’t even age. Nature has already solved many of the problems that hinder the human species today. It’s just a matter of taking those solutions and integrating them into our own biology.
If the technology in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” can create a creature as advanced as the Indoraptor, then there’s no reason why it can’t also create a human who has the muscle strength of a mountain gorilla, the immune system of an alligator, and the longevity of a tortoise. That kind of application is far more impactful than creating fancy zoo attractions.
I imagine that Dr. Malcolm might still warn about the use of this technology, but it may actually be an even greater risk to not use it. Again, it comes back to survival. Eventually, the Earth is going to die, either by the destruction of our sun or some other external force. If we’re to survive beyond that, we need to be able to survive outside one planet.
As it stands, the human species just isn’t built for that. It shows in how poorly our bodies react to space travel. It also shows in how much we struggle to survive in certain environments. To some extent, we must use the technology in “Jurassic World” to improve our survival.
Whether that involves tweaking our genetics with traits from more robust animals or creating pet raptors that help protect us, this technology has uses that are both profound and necessary. There’s still plenty of danger, although it’s doubtful any of that danger entails someone getting eaten by a T-Rex. However, it’s a danger we’ll have to confront whether the Ian Malcolms of the world like it or not.
Filed under futurism, gender issues, human nature, movies
“Loving Freedom” A Sexy Short Story (On The 4th Of July)
Greetings, and Happy 4th of July! I hope everyone has a chance to sit back, cook up some food on the grill, and enjoy a fireworks show wherever you are. In the spirit of celebrating this day of freedom and Independence, I’ve crafted a sexy short story to celebrate all things sexy and free. Enjoy!
“Looks like the show’s about to begin, Betsy,” said an excited Sam Washington.
“You are talking about the fireworks, right?” quipped his beautiful wife, Elizabeth “Betsy” Washington.
“And what if I’m not?” he retorted coyly.
“I’d be relieved,” she quipped, “because for us, the fireworks are never the best part of the 4th of July.”
Sam’s grin widened as he sat next to his wife of five years atop a large blanket on the isolated hilltop not far from their house. It was an isolated, remote area that few knew about and for good reason. He and Betsy made it a point to keep the place hidden. In the heart of middle America, it was their own slice of personal freedom.
That place gained even greater importance on 4th of July. As it just so happened, the top of the hill overlooked Liberty Lake Park, a vast island of grassy open space surrounding a lake. Every summer, hundreds of people descended on to docks to unload boats, jet skis, and everything else they needed to enjoy the mid-summer heat. The biggest crowds always gathered near the docks for the annual fireworks show.
It was one of the biggest in the state, boasting every year how it could light up the entire night for a brief, but memorable spectacle. It was extra special to him and Betsy because their first date had taken place during the 4th of July seven years ago. On that night, they started a tradition that they had cherished ever since.
“I even hear they brought in extra material from upstate,” Betsy added. “My sister’s old roommate says they brought in some fireworks from the baseball stadium they hadn’t used.”
“Are you telling me this to warn me? Or entice me?” Sam asked her.
“Can it be a little of both?”
“I’m good with either,” he teased. “It’s been a long, hard year for the both of us. I’m ready to just take a step back and celebrate.”
“Me too, my love.”
He smiled at his beautiful wife, her loving gaze building the anticipation. The stage was set. They’d just finished a round of freshly-grilled burgers, chips, and corn on the cobb. With full stomachs and a couple of beers in them, Sam was ready carry on that tradition. His beautiful wife in his arms, the fireflies already buzzing in the diminishing twilight, they anxiously watched the cloudless sky in anticipation.
“Any minute now,” Betsy told him, “and we’ll do plenty of celebrating.”
“I’m ready. America is ready. We’re ready, damn it!” he said with growing patience.
They weren’t going to start until the first round of fireworks went off. That was when the real show began. It made time move painfully slow. It didn’t help that Betsy wore those extra sexy high-cut shorts of hers, along with that red, white, and blue halter top. She claimed she chose that outfit because it was hot and it was patriotic, especially compared to his jeans and sleeveless shirt. Sam knew Betsy well enough to know when she had other, less obvious motives.
The way her long, smooth legs brushed up against him, her soft hands caressing his unshaven face, made the wait unbearable. Sam wasn’t sure the lover or the patriot in him could hold out much longer.
Then, it finally happened. The first round fireworks from the lake shot up into the sky, bursting in a dazzling display of reddish green light. A cheer erupted from the crowd of people gathered around the lake. For a brief moment, he and Betsy gazed up in awe as well.
That didn’t last long, though. As soon as the crisp night sky was illuminated by the display, Sam turned towards his beautiful wife and locked his gaze with hers.
“It’s time,” Betsy said with that all-American sexiness in her voice.
“God bless America!” Sam said eagerly.
With more fireworks going off, they kissed passionately. It started off soft, not unlike the kiss they shared on their wedding day. It quickly escalated, though, deepening into the kind of kissing they’d shared on their honeymoon.
Their lips swirled and their tongues twirled, the love they shared as husband and wife mixing with the lust they felt as two people of heightened passions. It conveyed a perfect blend of affection and desire, one they sought to express under the light of 4th of July fireworks.
“Sam,” she gasped, their lips briefly parting, “take me, you all-American stud!”
He didn’t need to be a loving husband or a former army grunt to heed those words, but they certainly added a sense of urgency. Once again, Sam was going to do it. He was going to make love to his wife under the light and noise of 4th of July fireworks on a muggy summer evening.
Betsy had already gotten ahead of him, kissing him again before pulling his shirt off over his head. He caught up quickly, though, picking his wife up in his powerful arms, earning a delighted laugh in the process, and laying her out on the oversized blanket they’d placed atop the freshly-cut crass. Now on top of her, he kissed her again before trailing his hands up her waist.
“Time get out of these sweaty clothes,” he told her.
“Mmm…it’s too hot for clothes anyway,” Betsy joked.
As the radiant light from the fireworks above illuminated the isolated hilltop, Sam went to work undressing his wife. First, he slid her halter top up over her head, revealing the blue bra she’d worn underneath. As she reached behind to unclasp it, he trailed his lips down her torso while undoing her tight-fitting jean shorts. He could already feel her body writhing with anticipation, conveying a growing desire to go along with the excitement of the spectacle above them.
“Off! Get them off!” Betsy urged.
Sam worked faster, pulling her shorts down her shapely legs, taking her panties off in the process. The moment they came off, Betsy removed her bra, rendering her fully naked. Being out in the open on a hot summer evening didn’t bother her in the slightest. If anything, it brought out an extra sexy side to her that drove him wild.
“Now, it’s your turn!” she said intently.
With the noise of more fireworks erupting overhead, Betsy pounced on him with unfretted energy, kissing him again and turned him over so that now he was on his back. She then hovered over him, letting those perfectly-shaped breasts of hers dangle in her face. She loved showing them off and he loved feeling them in his hands.
As he fell under her seductive spell, kissing down her cleavage and fondling her breasts, she reached down and undid his pants. Having already become very confined, he coordinated with his wife to get them off as fast as the mud-stained denim would allow. Feeling the hot summer air on his exposed flesh was nothing short of liberating, a fitting feeling for the 4th of July.
Now fully naked, alone and in nature together, Sam let his wild side show with Betsy. As the rate and intensity of the fireworks escalated, they engaged in an onslaught of impassioned foreplay. They rolled round on the blanket, the sweat and pollen sticking to their naked bodies. He felt Betsy’s hands roam wildly, pawing and caressing the sinews of his chest. He returned the favor, feeling up the smooth skin of her womanly curves, giving her butt a firm squeeze while still giving her breasts plenty of attention.
Together, they moaned and caressed one another, but much of it muted by the sound of exploding fireworks. That didn’t matter, though. Sam could literally feel the desire growing between them and not just because his erect dick was pressing up against her thigh. While he and his wife had always enjoyed extended foreplay, he hadn’t forgotten that time was a factor when making love during a fireworks show.
“Ready for the real fireworks?” Sam asked over the noise.
“Hell yes!” Betsy said with a beaming smile.
Showing the kind of enthusiasm that could inspire patriotic passions in anyone, she got on top of him again so that he laid flat on his back. She then positioned herself on top of him, getting into an upright position so that her pelvis was perfectly aligned with his rigid manhood. With the fireworks going off in the skies around them, it was an amazing sight, like gazing up at an angel surrounded by exploding stars.
“Just lie back,” she told him. “I’ll put on the real show!”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sam said with a wide grin.
As a round of bright white fireworks went off behind them, Betsy grasped his sides and lowered her hips, working his rigid manhood up into her waiting depths. Upon feeling her tight, wet flesh around his, they each let out a blissful moan. Once again, it was muted by the noise from the fireworks, but that only served to motivate Betsy.
Fueled by a mix of passion – and the American spirit, as a whole – she began riding his dick in a fury of vigorous motions. She dug her toes into the blanket, tightened her grip on his waist, and gyrated her hips in a skillful display of loving sensuality. The way the hot folds of her womanhood slid along the length of his cock made it feel as though their flesh had been perfectly fitted for one another. It brought with it a steady stream of blissful sensations that seemed augmented by the fireworks displayed in the background.
To Sam, it was ecstasy and love in its purest form. Looking up at his beautiful wife, watching her ride him with such affection and dedication, was truly a sight to behold. The fireworks in the background was just a nice bonus. It made him feel like he had the best seat in the house for any 4th of July celebration.
“Betsy! Ohhh Betsy!” he moaned. “So much…love you…so much!”
“Yes! Oh yes! Oh Sam!” Betsy exclaimed.
Their cries exceeded the noise from the fireworks, a fitting feat for two patriotic lovers like them. Betsy stepped up the rhythm, her breasts bouncing more with each motion. Sam eagerly reached up to touch them, rubbing them with both hands in just the way she liked. He also made it a point to rub her nipples in a certain way. It was one of his wife’s favorite kinks and on such a special night, it was extra potent.
“Oohhh like that! Rub my tits…just like that!” she gasped. “You’re going to…make me…come!”
It worked even better than usual. As Betsy rode him with greater intensity, she placed her hands atop his and supplemented his skilled touching. Sam hadn’t known many women who could achieve orgasm by having their breasts rubbed. The fact he fell in love with someone who did made their sex that much hotter.
Between her riding his cock and him rubbing her breasts, Betsy’s ascension to orgasmic bliss was complete just in time for an extra loud round of fireworks. Sam watched with awe – both in reaction to the fireworks and to his love’s expression of ecstasy – as she closed her eyes, threw her head back, and let out a cry of euphoria to the heavens. As loud as the fireworks were, they didn’t stand a chance against his love’s bliss.
“My love coming on the 4th of July…my favorite spectacle of all,” Sam grinned.
As the orgasmic wave washed over her, he maintained his firm hold on her breasts. She clung to his wrists as well, her body writhing under the onslaught of pleasure. He felt the inner muscles of her womanhood contract around his member, tightly embracing his flesh in accord with her bliss. Every breath echoed with a delight, her naked body glowing even brighter under the light of the fireworks.
“Enjoying your independence, Betsy?” Sam teased.
“Mmm…how American of you,” Betsy said coyly.
Her body still shuddering from the pleasure, she released her grip on his wrists and leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss. Sam eagerly kissed back, embracing his beautiful wife fully under the spectacle in the skies above. However, he also hadn’t forgotten his own desires, nor did he forget the time constraints in which they were operating.
“Ready for the finale?” he asked her.
“Of course…my all-American lover!” Betsy replied without hesitation.
Taking the initiative, as only any former army man could, Sam repositioned their bodies so that he was the one on top. Their flesh never parted, not wasting a moment or motion.
Betsy eagerly adjusted, despite her post-orgasmic state. She spread her legs wider, hooking them around his waist so that the balls of her feet dug into his lower back. His sweaty flesh now meshed up against hers, Sam planted knees and feet firmly on the ground. Then, he buried his face into her neck and began making love to her at the same fervent rhythm she’d established earlier.
“Betsy…oh God, Betsy!” Sam grunted upon feeling that intimate bliss once more. “I want you…want this.”
“That’s it, my love,” she told him. “Make love to me…under the stars…and the fireworks.”
Her loving, affectionate tone somehow found a way to echo over the noise of fireworks in the sky. It might have been a 4th of July miracle or his desire to make love to his wife was just that strong.
Whatever the case, Sam went with it. Like a man on a mission, he worked his body against hers, thrusting and pumping his rigid manhood within his lover’s depths. Every movement brought with it a surge of hot sensations, each bringing him closer to his approaching peak. He had held back before so his wife could enjoy her ecstasy. Now, he sought to share in that feeling.
As that blissful peak approached, the noise from the fireworks got louder. It sounded like the show was at its finale as well, firing off every last mortar and firecracker. Betsy, her chin dug into his shoulder, probably had the best possible view. He could sense her awe, but he still felt like he was part of the real spectacle.
“Betsy…I’m so close,” he gasped. “The finale…so close!”
“I feel it too, Sam,” Betsy panted. “Come, my love. Celebrate with me!”
Armed with his passion and his all-American grit, Sam’s heated movements in lovemaking sent him to the brink. For a brief moment, it seemed unlikely that he would achieve that peak in time for the fireworks to end. In what felt like another 4th of July miracle, he achieved his climax as well.
It struck just as one of the brightest displays from the show lit up the sky, so much so that it illuminated Betsy’s face like the midday sun. As he took in her loving gaze, his hold on her intensified as every fiber in his body was awash in pleasure. White hot pleasure surged from his core, sending ripples of euphoria from head to toe. His manhood throbbed inside her in accord with his release, his sexual fluids mixing with hers in a potent blend of passion.
Throughout that ecstasy, his gaze never diverted from her and hers never diverted from his. In that moment, in that instance of ultimate intimate bliss, they shared a deep kiss to cap off the finale. Fittingly enough, that was the exact moment the fireworks display ceased.
The timing was perfect. As they kissed, they could hear the crowd around the lake cheering the show. It felt like they’d been cheering him and Betsy on as they made love. The probably thought they’d seen the best American spectacle show in the state. They were dead wrong.
“I love you, Betsy,” Sam said, the skies now quiet.
“I love you too, Sam,” Betsy replied with her loving gaze.
“Happy 4th of July, my freedom-loving wife.”
“Same to you, my American stud of a husband.”
Filed under Sexy Short Story
Reflecting On The Greatest Advice Rick Sanchez Ever Gave Us
Greetings, and wubba lubba dub dub! By now, you should know that means this will be another article about “Rick and Morty,” one of the greatest animated shows of this century or any other century, for that matter. I know that sometimes means the topics involved are depressing or downright fatalistic. I can’t promise this one will balance that out to any meaningful, but I still hope that this piece is more useful than most.
Love it or hate it, either due to its nihilistic undertones or exceedingly passionate fanbase, there are a lot of interesting insights to explore within “Rick and Morty.” From specific episodes that deal with the not-so-hidden appeal of the apocalypse to those built around Rick turning himself into a pickle, there’s a wide variety of lessons and themes to take in.
In this case, I want to focus on what I feel is the best advice “Rick and Morty” has given anyone, both within his animated world and in our own world. It’s a lesson that anyone can use in a multitude of situations, be it dealing with never-ending flood of depressing news to finding out a beloved actor was a total asshole.
Rick has given this advice to Morty on more than one occasion throughout the show, including the pilot episode and, most notably, in “Rick Potion #9.” It applies to battles against alien security guards, burying the body of your alternate self, and that time you farted in class a bit too loudly. It can be summed up in four simple words.
Don’t think about it!
On the surface, it doesn’t sound too useful. Not thinking about something seems like an elaborate excuse to avoid a particular problem or issue. It sounds like something adults tell children just to shut them up so they’ll stop bothering them. Whether they’re asking about where babies come from or why we can’t stop fighting wars, it feels like the overly easy way to avoid an unpleasant conversation.
However, I don’t think that’s what Rick means when he says that. He’s already proven in multiple episodes that he doesn’t give a Grunglokian fart about unpleasant conversations, as evidenced by his many unfiltered rants around his family. When he says “don’t think about it,” he’s saying it in a particular context that makes it more than just a method for avoiding awkward moments.
Watch any one episode of “Rick and Morty” and you’ll notice more than a few themes, not all of which are based on Rick’s ego or Morty’s obsession with a particular redhead. One of the major over-arching concepts that binds the show, and gives much of its appeal, is the idea that none of the things that people hold dear actually matter in the grand scheme of things.
Whether it’s religion, the economy, love, family, or the formula for concentrated dark matter, it just doesn’t matter in the long run. Religion doesn’t matter because it’s just some arbitrary set of beliefs built on unrelated correlations. The economy doesn’t matter if the value of money is entirely arbitrary. Love and family don’t matter when there’s an infinite number of them in the multiverse.
While that fits with the shows more nihilistic themes, it also speaks to the helplessness and frustration that a lot of people feel when dealing with a chaotic world/multiverse. There’s so much they can do, but so much of it doesn’t matter. The causes they fight for, the wealth they accrue, and the people they encounter simply lose their meaning when you consider the sheer size of the universe and how old it is.
In that context, not thinking about it might actually be helpful. If you work a job you don’t like, pay taxes you don’t like paying, and deal with people you can’t stand every day, the idea that it’s all for nothing in the long run isn’t just untenable. It maddening. How can anyone possibly cope with that kind of existence?
Not thinking about it, though, solves a lot of issues because it allows you to maintain the necessary perspective to function within that existence. Even if the things we do are meaningless, not thinking about it at least gives us the illusion that they’re meaningful. More often than not, perception beats reality and not just in terms of bias news.
It’s a byproduct of human’s being so limited in their thinking. Human brains did not evolve to prioritize reason, understanding, or making sense of an obscenely large universe. They evolved with the primary function to help us survive and reproduce, as individuals and as a species. Anything else is secondary or an afterthought.
Rick Sanchez seems to understand that and constantly exploits those limits for his own ends, whether it involves outwitting the President or outsmarting the devil. Unlike everyone else in a meaningless world within an infinite multiverse, he’s a super-genius. He has a portal gun that allows him to travel to infinite timelines at will, even if it’s just for a pizza.
Nobody else in this world has those capabilities, although I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Elon Musk weren’t working on it. Nobody in this world is as smart or as resourceful as Rick Sanchez. There’s very little he can’t do. This is a man who defeated a Thanos/Darkseid rip-off while blackout drunk. By every measure, what he does should carry more meaning than most.
Despite Rick’s abilities, he’s the one who often belabors how meaningless everything is. Never-the-less, he still operates as though there’s a reason to continue existing. That may send mixed messages when he says not to think about it, but that’s only if you overthink it, which would entirely defeat the purpose.
Rick knows that nothing he does matters in the long run, but he doesn’t think about that.
Rick knows that everyone he cares about are just random clumps of matter in a meaningless universe within an infinite multiverse, but he doesn’t think about that.
Rick knows that love, connection, and emotions are just manifestations of brain chemistry that help our species survive, but he doesn’t think about it.
Instead, he focuses his genius intellect on the things that matter to him. Whether that’s his family or that sweet, delicious Szechuan Sauce, he concerns himself primarily with what he feels gives his cosmic adventures meaning. It doesn’t matter if that meaning is empty in the grand scheme of things because, again, he doesn’t think about it.
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It may sound egotistical or selfish, but it’s remarkably pragmatic in a meaningless universe. It keeps us from stepping back, realizing how insignificant we are, and succumbing to despair. It directs our energy and efforts into issues that are localized. For Rick Sanchez, a man with access to a portal gun and a space ship, localized is a relative term. For everyone else, though, it’s just that much more pragmatic.
There’s only so much we can do to exact meaningful change in the world. Unless you’re willing to go through the long, tedious process that involves reshaping government institutions, influencing cultural trends, or educating people on a mass scale, you can’t expect to achieve much change, especially by yourself.
Rick Sanchez could probably achieve all the change he wants, but chooses not to because he knows it’ll bore him or it’s just easier to go to a universe where that change has already occurred. For the rest of us, though, we’re frustratingly limited. We may never see or inspire the change we want. Even if we do, we can’t do it alone.
That kind of helplessness can be depressing. The idea that so little of what we do matters, even when we believe in a cause, is pretty distressing. That’s why Rick’s advice is so relevant. It’s not deep or inspiring, but it gets the job done.
Upset with past injustices upon a particular group? Don’t think about it.
Upset that you can’t change the minds of your friends and family on politics, religion, or ideology? Don’t think about it.
Upset that we’re not doing enough to address climate change? Don’t think about it.
Upset that the economy isn’t doing well and all the best opportunities are gone? Don’t think about it.
These are all things that you can’t change without a portal gun or galactic-level genius. Since Rick Sanchez has that and we don’t, our best recourse is to not obsess over it because there’s not much we can do. Eventually, the heat death of the universe will render everything we do or have ever done totally meaningless.
That can either be depressing or empowering, depending on how you look at it. Yes, not thinking about it won’t undo a traffic ticket, undo a crime you committed, or turn off your biological urges to eat, sleep, love, and mate. Efforts to do so can be damaging. For everything else though, not thinking about it is probably better for your mind, your body, and your overall sense of being.
In that sense, we should all thank Rick Sanchez for this amazingly useful device. While he’d probably say that gratitude is just a polite way of idiots admitting how incapable they are, it’s probably best not to think about his reaction. So long as the advice he gave works, what does it matter? Wubba lubba dub dub!
Filed under Current Events, human nature, philosophy, Rick and Morty
What It Means To “Man Up” And Why It’s Changing (For The Worse)
It wasn’t that long ago that parents and peers emphasized the importance of “manning up” to young boys. There would come a point in a kid’s life where he was encouraged to do more than just grow up. He was expected to push himself in a unique way, fighting and sacrificing for those who couldn’t. Sometimes, those expectations were unreasonable and a little unhealthy, but it was part of the overall gender dynamic.
That dynamic has been changing a great deal over the past several decades. I’m young enough to have grown up during many of those changes, but old enough to remember the old traditions associated with “manning up.” The sheer breadth of that change has been remarkable, but not entirely in a good way.
For the most part, I was never pushed too hard to man up by others. My friends and family encouraged me to push myself, but never to the point where I felt pressure or anxiety. I often ended up pushing myself, whether it involved going to college or moving out of my parents’ house.
That’s not say I didn’t feel any pressure to “man up” at any point in my life. Beyond my friends and family, I was as vulnerable to expectations surrounding masculinity as anyone. Most of the time, those expectations involved little things like stepping up to fix a problem, helping out those who were physically limited, and enduring pain or discomfort in the name of a particular goal.
Overall, I feel as though these expectations were either healthy or benign. Some of those standards could’ve been gender neural. When you see someone in a wheelchair at the grocery store struggling to get something from a shelf, it’s neither masculine nor feminine to help them. That’s just common courtesy.
In recent years, however, the whole notion of “manning up” has gained new a new complications. Some of them are ideological. Some of them are politically motivated. It’s because of these various nuances that I put the term in quotes because its meaning keeps shifting, gaining and losing connotations year by year. At some point, the term itself may become empty.
In contemplating that meaning, I thought briefly about the connotations that term had back when I was a kid. I doubt my interpretation was definitive, but I like to think it captured the spirit of the term. When someone told me to “man up,” this is what I took it to mean.
- Grow up and mature
- Take responsibility and solve your own problems
- Stop whining and start doing something about it
- Quit being satisfied with mediocrity and push yourself
- Be stronger and tougher in difficult situations
- Work hard and endure for the good of others who can’t
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that many of these same traits associated with superheroes, as espoused by the comic books I read and the cartoons I watched. They might have colored my perspective on masculinity and “manning up,” but I suspect these ideals were still consistent with healthy masculinity. The fact that characters like Wonder Woman and Storm of the X-men had some of these traits was just a bonus.
Now, as I contemplate the meaning of “manning up” in its current context, those don’t seem to have the same prominence they once did. There are also a new host of expectations surrounding the term that are fueled, in part, by identity politics. Some even conflict with others, which adds even more complications.
To get a feel for those complications, I posed a question on Reddit on what “manning up” meant to them. The response somewhat surprised me. Most wouldn’t have found their way into the comic books or cartoons I consumed as a kid, to say the least. They involved ideas such as this.
- Checking your privileged and making way for those your kind has oppressed
- Acknowledging the crimes and guilt of your gender, as a whole
- Sacrificing any advantage or benefits that being a man might have once conferred
- Subjecting yourself to greater degradation in the name of greater equality
- Learning about all the ways men have ruined society and the world
- Accepting that the things men love are unhealthy, damaging, and detrimental
None of these are very positive traits for those being told to “man up.” It’s basically a less overt way to tell them that them being a man is “problematic,” a term that has also gained one too many complications. It’s a term reserved for those who appear to be benefiting too much from being a man who isn’t subject to the rigors of childbirth, rampant sexism, and a long history of exploitation.
Never mind the fact that no one alive to day is directly responsible for the injustices their ancestors committed. They’re also not responsible for the injustices their particular race, gender, or ethnicity committed. It happened in the past. Yes, parts of that past were horrible, but punishing people in the present doesn’t make it less horrific. If anything, it just tries to fight one injustice with another.
This is where the concept of “manning up” really loses whatever positive connotations it once held. It’s a sentiment that many responders to my Reddit question shared. When they contemplate that term, they interpret as someone telling them that they need to endure, suffer, or overlook a particular aspect of their identity.
A few posters went so far as to say the term can be replaced with “serve my interests” and carry the same meaning. While I don’t entirely agree with that notion, I can understand why it would feel that way. Being a man, I sometimes feel like I’m expected to get to the front of the line when the time comes to sacrifice. I won’t go so far as to say I find it oppressive, but it certainly feels like I’m held to a different standard.
Sometimes, that standard can be unreasonable. That was another common theme of the responses I got. The notion of “manning up” denotes operating in a way to avoid a particular stigma that others wouldn’t incur for the same behavior. It’s not always ideological, but the pressure is there.
A man who is too emotional is considered a sissy and has to “man up.” A woman or even a gay man who does this won’t face that stigma.
A man who is reluctant to sacrifice for the well-being of another group is considered selfish and should “man up.” A woman or another minority who show a similar reluctance can do the same, but won’t face the same stigma.
A man who shows his pain when he’s harassed is told to suck it up and “man up.” A woman or minority who is harassed can expect plenty of supporters who will cheer them on. Even if men are subject to more overall harassment, they don’t get any sympathy. They’re told to “man up” while everyone else is allowed to seek social support without much scrutiny.
This, I feel, is the ultimate tragedy of the concept. A term that once use to reflect certain ideals for men has now become an instrument of ridicule. It’s no longer a lesson for boys to learn. It’s a rhetorical shortcut that allows someone to hold an entire group of people to a different standard, one that requires them to go out of their way for someone else.
I don’t doubt that there are instances where it’s good for society that some people go out of their way to help others. For those who are disabled, elderly, or ill, it’s just more just and compassionate to set a different standard for ourselves. We don’t ask someone who is missing a limb or suffering from ALS to “man up.” We go out of our way to help them.
It’s the extent of those instances, however, that seems to be damaging the notion. It’s no longer sufficient to just have a particular ailment or shortcoming. Just being someone who isn’t a man who can claim some sort of injustice, be it historical or contemporary, is sufficient.
I believe that’s a dangerous precedent for men and women, for that matter. It sends the message that in order for there to be more justice and equality, an entire group of people need to sacrifice to an extent where they have to be the villains. They have to come to the table, surrender unconditionally, and admit they were wrong and they were the cause of the problem.
That may not be sentiment of those telling someone to “man up,” but that’s how it’s being interpreted. It’s less a masculine ideal and more a shaming tactic, one that is more likely to incur a backlash rather than get someone to reconsider their understanding of gender roles.
I still feel like there’s a way to recapture the positive elements of “manning up.” Gender dynamics is one of those concepts that’s always evolving. Sometimes, there’s progress. Sometimes, there are setbacks. At the moment, I think masculinity and femininity are going through some growing pains as they adapt to a changing world. That process is likely to involve plenty of conflicts and controversies along the way.
In the long run, though, I think society will find a healthy balance with respect to “manning up.” I think there’s a way to use that notion to bring out the best in men and women alike. It’ll likely take plenty of work, toil, and sacrifice from everyone involved in gender-driven controversies, but it’s definitely worth doing.
Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Cold Lemonade Edition
This is the time of year when every day becomes inherently better if you have a glass of ice cold lemonade within reaching distance. Between heat waves, humidity, and sun burns, a glass of cold lemonade goes a long way towards making summer feel complete. Like snow on Christmas morning, it just feels right. If you can throw in a little vodka, then that’s just icing on the cake.
Since I was a kid, I felt as though no summer was complete without a cold glass of lemonade. It was something I actually picked up from my father. He worked outdoors a lot and whenever he came in, all sweaty and dirty, the first thing he did was get himself a glass of lemonade. Even when we went out to eat, that was his drink of choice on hot days. It always seemed to boost his mood so naturally, I picked up on it.
As I write this, I’ve got cold glass of lemonade right next to me. It’s sweet, it’s cold, and it makes my weekend feel that much more complete. Sure, a morning cup of coffee may wake you up, but a cold glass of lemonade will put a smile on your face. You don’t have to be sitting on a beach or by a pool to enjoy it, but it certainly helps.
I know I sound way too enthusiastic about a simple drink that kids like to sell for quarters on a curb, but I stand by my love of lemonade in the summer every bit as much as I stand by my love of sleeping naked. That’s why I’m dedicating this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to that special feeling that comes with every cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer day. Enjoy!
“Good manners and good oral sex have a lot in common when you think about it.”
“Technically, watching porn is the only spectator sport where the audience can also score.”
“Awkward boners are like annoying pop-up ads and tight briefs are like ad blockers.”
“The first step to falling in love is wanting to see someone have and orgasm and the last step is convincing them to let you regularly give them one.”
“Babies are precious because they’re the only tangible proof that you’ve had sex.”
“Any toy can be a sex toy with the right application of lube, kink, and pain tolerance.”
“Misery loves company, but only confidence can organize a three-way.”
I hope you enjoyed that, even if you had no cold lemonade nearby. The hottest days of summer are still ahead of us. It’s going to get hot, sweaty, and sticky. There will be times where you can’t legally ditch the clothes to cool off. In my experience, a cold glass of lemonade is the next best thing.
Filed under Sexy Sunday Thoughts
Milestones, Publishing Plans, And Gratitude
It’s been a while since I’ve talked about my ongoing efforts to further my career as an aspiring erotica/romance writer. It’s also been a while since I talked about the traffic volumes of this website. To be fair, recent events involving superhero movies, sex robots, and news involving frustrating social trends have given me plenty to write about. Even with those distractions, I know I’m due for an update of sorts.
First and foremost, I want to make clear that I’m still working hard at breaking into the world of publishing. While “Passion Relapse” and “Rescued Hearts” marked my first novels that were officially published, thanks to Totally Entwined Group, I had hoped they would be a stepping stone. That hasn’t quite worked out.
For the past few months, I’ve been shopping multiple manuscripts that I’ve been sitting on for a while now. However, much to my dismay, none have been accepted for publication. While Totally Entwined Group has been wonderfully helpful every step of the way, they’ve chosen to go in a different direction and I’m almost back at square one.
I say almost because, as I write this, I’ve got another novel that has been in publishing limbo for over a year now. That novel, “Embers of Eros,” was accepted a while back by a small publisher for consideration. I got news just a few weeks ago that the publisher is shutting down and I’ll be getting the full rights to the novel back.
This novel was already professionally edited and even had cover art made for it. I’m hoping that will make it a more appealing offer for publishers or literary agents. I’m still working on the details since there is some paperwork involved, but I still hope to get that book published at some point.
While the news surrounding my novels hasn’t been that promising, things are going much better with my Sexy Short Stories. I began doing these late last year as an experiment in providing more diverse content on this site. The results exceeded my expectations.
The traffic generated by these stories has been growing steadily with each story. This past month, they’ve helped this site set yet another traffic milestone. According to my WordPress stats, this site generated over 22,000 views for June 2018. Some of my most heavily-trafficked pages included short stories like “The New Neighbor” and “The Camping Trip.”
To date, I’ve written 13 of these stories and I’ve plans to write many more. I’m not yet decided on the release schedule for them. I’m contemplating whether I should set a day aside for them like I do with my Sexy Sunday Thoughts. I’ve also thought about having a regular release schedule, such as releasing them on a bi-weekly basis.
These are all tentative plans, but with the way traffic has grown this past month, I really want to further those plans as much as possible. If anyone out there who has been regularly following this site has any preferences, comments, or suggestions, please let me know in the comments. I’m happy to listen to feedback of all kinds.
I still want to publish sexy novels. I still want to tell sexy stories and, hopefully, make a living from it. Things are a bit in flux now, but I’m going to keep at it. I have plenty of sexy ideas to share and I look forward to doing so.
In the meantime, I want to thank everyone who has helped this site grow so much in recent months. From the bottom of my heart, I really appreciate it. I hope to keep this site growing as much as possible. If that means stepping up my efforts in telling even sexier stories, then so be it.
Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights
“The Limo Ride” A Sexy Short Story
The following is a sexy short story that I wrote that involves Las Vegas, limosuines, and a high-end escorts. It wouldn’t be the first story of nature that I wrote, but this one is a bit shorter and sweeter. Enjoy!
“Over here, Mr. Riverston!”
Joe Riley Riverston, a guy most people couldn’t pick out of a crowd if their life depended on it, heard that voice and was taken aback. He’d just arrived on an early-morning flight to Las Vegas, working on potent combination of minimum sleep and excess adrenaline. He’d planned to pick up his bags and call a cab to the convention center. Then, a tall limousine driver in a neatly-pressed suit called his name out.
“Uh…are you talking to me?” Joe asked, not sure of how many Riverstons there were in Las Vegas.
“Joseph Riley Riverston,” the man said in an overly formal tone, “current department head of product development at Silver Heights Software Corporation’s central campus in Denver, Colorado. Also recently promoted to VP of product launch and marking, if I recall.”
“Okay, that level of detail is only somewhat disturbing,” he said sheepishly.
“May I take your response as confirmation that you are, indeed, the Joseph Riley Riverston I just described?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s me. I just don’t remember requesting a limo or telling anyone about my recent promotion.”
“That’s because your business associate and brother-in-law, Richard Oak, solicited my services. He also requested that I relay the following message…this is me helping you, Joe. Shut up and go with it.”
Joe, still stressed out and sleep-deprived, shook his head and sighed. That sounded exactly like something Rich would say to him. Hiring a limo without telling him and giving the driver way too many details also sounded completely in character. His brother-in-law was good at a lot of things, especially as head of the marketing department of Silver Heights. Being subtle, though, was not one of them.
The driver, who came off as so polite and professional, just smiled as he held up the sign with his name on it. Joe would’ve loved to castigate his brother-in-law for butting into his professional life again, but it was too early in the morning to get upset. He was also working against the clock.
“All right, then,” Joe said. “I guess you’re my ride to the convention center.”
“And intend to make it a pleasant one, sir,” the polite driver said as he took Joe’s heavy bags. “Mr. Oak was quite insistent that your trip be extra comfortable.”
“I’m sure he was. By chance, did he also tell you how much I hate him butting into my life? Especially my job?”
“That matter did not come up, sir. I’m simply providing the service he paid me to provide.”
Joe rolled his eyes. The driver was too nice a guy to understand why he wouldn’t be as excited about a limo ride in Las Vegas as most. He also doubted that Rich told him that this trip was supposed to be someone else’s job.
It happened so quickly and Joe was still struggling to process everything. Less than a week ago, Silver Heights’ former VP of product launch and marketing was scheduled to fly to Vegas and announce the launch of their latest product. Then, in a sudden shift that caught everyone off guard, she resigned. She didn’t even give a two-week notice.
She didn’t give a reason, but according to rumors, one of Silver Heights’ competitors poached her from their ranks. Rich even told him that they paid her an extra fat bonus to quit in a way that would really throw them off. The amount of profanity that echoed from the executive suites left his ears ringing for days on end.
Joe didn’t think he’d end up getting that job, but since he led the team that developed it, he basically got shoved into the role. That didn’t exactly inspire confidence throughout the company. It certainly didn’t help that Rich was his brother-in-law, having married his older sister several years ago. It didn’t just send a message of blind nepotism. It implied that he wasn’t qualified for the job.
He understood that sentiment and didn’t necessarily disagree with it, at least in full. He still took the job, believing he could pull it off in the long run. He just didn’t expect the stakes to be so high so soon, having to fly to Las Vegas and launch a product that was critical to the company’s success.
“You always loved jumping into a challenge, Rich,” Joe said under his breath, “and you just love having me jump with you. That may work for skiing, but what makes you think it’ll work here?”
Joe kept asking himself that question as he followed the driver out the main doors of the airport and towards the limousine parked along the curb. It was one of many that had lined the road in the early morning hours of Las Vegas. He’d been to Vegas before. It was a 24/7 city where everything had to run at full capacity all the time. It was not exactly consistent with his meticulous, organized style.
“I checked the traffic and the schedule for you, sir,” said the driver as he loaded Joe’s luggage into the trunk. “The early morning rush-hour has already set in and there’s significant activity downtown, due to the ongoing Desert Drive Festival. I estimate it’ll take approximately 50 to 55 minutes to reach the convention center.”
“Too short for a quick nap,” Joe said, “but not nearly long enough for me to get mentally prepared. Figures.”
“I was also informed of the limited timeframe with which you are working, Mr. Riverston,” said the driver, “which is why Rich also paid for some additional luxury that he hopes will prepare you.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what kind of luxury are we talking about here?”
“I apologize, but it is not my place to say. Please enter the vehicle and you shall see for yourself.”
That came off as somewhat ominous, but Joe was in too much of a hurry to make much of it. He assumed that whatever Rich planned for him would give him more reasons to bust his balls when he got back to Denver.
Trying to focus on the task before him, Joe followed the driver to the passenger’s door of the limousine. Still professional in his demeanor and poise, he opened the door. Joe, not giving it much thought, entered in hopes of stretching his tense limbs. That was when he encountered his second major surprise of the morning.
“Good morning, Mr. Riverston,” said a very feminine, distinctly seductive voice. “Your associate, Richard Oak, sends his regards and his appreciation.”
“Whoa,” he said distantly. “Rich, you crazy son-of-a-bitch.”
For a good several seconds – which might have been the most awkward several seconds of his life, thus far – Joe sat in the plush leather seat with his mouth hanging open. Sitting across from him, wearing the kind of attire that seemed out of place for the early morning hours, was a beautiful woman who looked like she’d come from one of Las Vegas’ fanciest strip clubs.
She was like a monument to the city, having bleach blond hair, flawless skin complemented by fancy makeup, a perfectly curvy frame, and breasts that were about as natural as his watch. She also wore a tight-fitting red dress, the kind that looked like it cost a small mortgage payment and rode halfway up her thighs. Everything about her exuded beauty, elegance, and sex appeal. Now, she was his company during his ride to the convention center.
“My name is Cindy,” she greeted, sounding almost as formal as the driver. “I’ll be keeping you company between now and your arrival at the convention center.”
“That’s…very kind of you, ma’am,” said Joe, trying his best not to sound foolish.
“It’s not just kindness, I assure you. I’ve been tasked with preparing you for your speech at the launch ceremony, which – if Mr. Oak’s message is accurate – will commence in less than two hours.”
“He’s right, for once,” he said with an awkward grin, “but just how are you going to prepare me?”
“Settle in, get comfortable, and I’ll show you.”
There was no ambiguity in her tone. It was so overtly sensual that Joe felt the air in the spacious limousine get warmer in an instant. Still in a state of shock, he turned towards back towards the driver, but he’d already shut the door and made his way to the driver’s seat. As soon as he entered and strapped himself in, he pushed a button to raise the window that separated the front seat from the back area.
“I’ll give you and Ms. Cincy some privacy, sir,” the driver said.
“Much appreciated,” Cindy replied. “We’ll be needing it.”
Joe felt his heart jump and his face blush at those words. The implications, along with the way she said them, had so many connotations. At the very least, though, he wasn’t that tired anymore.
As he sat in his seat, trying to process the situation, Cindy got up for a moment and retrieved some drinks. She even leaned over in a way that gave him a perfect view of her ample cleavage, something Joe doubted was an accident. He continued staring, taking in her voluptuous curves as she poured a cocktail in the complementary drink dispenser. The view of her heart-shaped butt was enough to wake any straight man, regardless of the early morning hour.
“I know you must be tense,” Cindy said. “I certainly would if I were in your position.”
“I can only partially believe that,” Joe said under his breath.
“You fly in at the crack of dawn, tasked with doing a job that you didn’t think you’d have to do, and are still expected to do it well.”
“Just out of curiosity, just how much did Rich tell you about my predicament?”
“Enough for me to understand why you’re so tense and why you need specialized care.”
She was so overt with her tone, as though she wasn’t even trying to hide it. For a moment, Joe cursed his brother-in-law again for doing something so outrageous. At the same time, though, he wanted to thank him with all his heart.
Rich knew as well as the rest of his family that he was single. He’d actually been engaged at one point a few years back, but his former fiancé broke it off after too many disputes about their work habits. She thought he worked too much and he thought she didn’t work hard enough. It was a dispute they never resolved, but as time went on, Joe suspected she might have been right to some extent.
After completing the cocktails, Cindy handed him one and sat down next to him. She sat extra close too, so much so that he could smell her perfume, which exuded every kind of sexiness imaginable. Joe almost dropped the cocktail, his hands trembling as he felt her body so close to his.
“Relax, Mr. Riverston,” she said to him. “It’s a light martini, I promise. It’s not going to get you hammered before your big moment.”
“That’s not what worries me,” Joe said.
“Well, I’m here to limit those worries so take a deep breath. Relax. This may very well be the most enjoyable commute you’ve ever had.”
She made it sound so tantalizing. Joe ended up sipping his drink, gulping it down quicker than usual. Even if it wouldn’t get him drunk, he needed something to settle his nerves.
Cindy remained much more relaxed, casually leaning on him as the limousine started moving. It was slow going, just getting out of the airport. They were heading right into the morning rush-hour. Usually, that was the most frustrating part of Joe’s morning. Today, though, felt different.
“A lot of powerful, confident men come through this town,” Cindy said after finishing half of her drink. “I’ve met plenty of them. Seen quite a few of them naked too. In my line of work, you tend to pick up on things along the way…things like whose power is weak and whose confidence is false.”
“Sounds like an interesting kind of work,” Joe commented with an awkward grin.
“It is, for the most part,” she said, “although, it gets downright inane when that false power and phony confidence falter. It tends to separate the men who are genuine from those who are frauds.”
“Oh? Just out of curiosity, what kind of man am I?”
The beautiful woman laughed and smiled, her expression lighting up the limo like the Las Vegas strip. Setting aside her drink, she proceeded to climb onto his lap, snaking her arms around his neck and draping her shapely lags over his thighs. The way they rubbed against him got his blood flowing in directions that he wasn’t used to at this early morning hour.
“Even without knowing your story or why you’re here in Sin City, I’ve got a knack for seeing men for who they really are,” she told him, “and you, Joe Riverston…you’re no fraud.”
“That’s…a relief,” he said, swallowing nervously.
“And it makes my job that much easier,” she said. “I’ve found that when it comes to providing therapeutic company to men, the genuine ones are much easier to work with than the frauds…easier and rewarding.”
Cindy whispered that into his ear as though it were the greatest turn-on in the world. There was no way a woman so beautiful could be that aroused by a man who’d been shoved into a position of power at his job. Even if she were some sort of escort or showgirl, that couldn’t possibly appeal to her. Could it?
Joe wasn’t sure what to think anymore. He ended up gulping down the rest of his drink before locking his eyes on Cindy, not even noticing whether the limo was moving.
“Genuine men don’t always have confidence, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t capable,” she went on. “Some lack the opportunity. Some lack the grit. Some just lack the drive.”
“Well, I’ve got the opportunity part down,” Joe said. “To be honest, it kind of found me and I almost didn’t accept it.”
“And yet, you did,” she pointed out. “You’re here in Las Vegas, you’ve got a chance to do something special with your career, and you wouldn’t have gotten that opportunity if you hadn’t worked for it.”
“Which is ironic,” he said, “because a lot of people say I work too hard.”
“And that’s perfectly respectable, so long as you find a way to balance it out. That’s why places like Las Vegas exist and why women like me have a job.”
That sounded so logical and insightful, something Joe hadn’t expected from an escort/prostitute, if that was what she truly was. The way she rubbed her thigh against his groin, though, causing more blood to flow to his lower body, made him reconsider his expectations.
Whatever her job, she took it very seriously. With a determined glint in her eye, she shifted her body so that she straddled his lap, both knees resting at his side while she held onto his shoulders. Those big, surgically-enhanced breasts of hers were in his face again. It helped him forget his anxiety about the upcoming conference, but supplemented a different kind of tension that was growing by the second.
“If you’re up for it, I’d like to be the one who gives you that balance,” Cindy said. “You’ve worked so hard for everything you’ve had. You should enjoy the fruits of your labor.”
“I…I want to,” Joe found himself saying, “but is that something I should do mere hours before a big conference?”
“I’d argue that’s the best possible time. It’s only when we balance work and play that we can appreciate both. For a genuine man like you, Joe Riverston, I believe it’ll give you the confidence and strength you desire.”
Being the analytical person he was, Joe questioned that approach. However, he promptly ceased such doubts when Cindy pulled him into a deep kiss. As soon as he tasted those sweet, succulent lips of hers, a wave of relaxation and calmness overcame him. All that stress and restlessness he felt earlier just melted away like ice in the desert.
As he settled into that mood, Cindy lightly grasped his wrists and guided them around her waist. Her womanly curves felt so good to touch, as though doing so shielded him from doubts and distractions. As she wrestled her lips with his, she felt him unbuttoning his blue dress shirt. Since he’d been feeling hot anyways – and not just due to the desert heat, for that matter – he didn’t mind in the slightest.
“There’s a strong, confident man in you, Joe,” Cindy said upon placing her hands on his chest. “I can feel it.”
“Yeah…feel it,” he said in his deepening daze.
After removing his shirt completely, Cindy affectionately kissed down his face and neck, slipping off his lap in the process and dropping to her knees. Inch by inch, she tasted his flesh. It felt good, like the touch of an angel healing his distressed state. Eventually, her lips passed by his abdomen and reached the hem of his pants. In short order, showing the skill of a true professional, she undid them with ease and pulled them down to his ankles, boxers and all.
As soon as his dick popped out, it was already semi-hard. Between the stunning presence of this woman and her talented touch, he’d already gotten more aroused than he’d ever been before nine in the morning. She didn’t waste time making use of it either, grasping the base of his member with both hands and sensually trailing her tongue over the tip.
“Oh Cindy,” Joe said, now leaning back further on the plush leather seat.
“You see? Your confidence is already growing!” she teased. “Here, let me help it grow a little more.”
Joe offered no resistance. What she was doing was clearly working, so to speak. He already felt more confident, as most straight men would in the presence of a beautiful woman.
He felt even more when she took the full length of his growing member into her mouth, those sweet red lips of hers making contact with his manly flesh. He let out a deep moan of contentment, a feeling he thought impossible after he boarded his plane several hours ago. Closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the seat, he took in the breadth of the feeling as this beautiful woman gave him oral sex.
“Oh my God!” he moaned. “Cindy…that feels so good.”
“Mmm…feeling more confident, Mr. Riverston?” she purred while stroking his cock.
“Hell yeah!” Joe said without hesitation.
With focused intent, like a professional showing off their skill to rank amateurs, Cindy sucked his dick. Up and down, her lips slid along his length while her tongue slithered around his hardened flesh. That hot, warm feeling that followed send shivers of pleasure coursing through his body, the kind that did much more than relief anxiety.
It also had the effect of getting him fully erect with an efficacy that made Joe rethink his understanding of general male biology. Even his ex-fiancé hadn’t been that effective, even at their most passionate. Then again, she hadn’t been a professional like Cindy.
Flushed with contentment and bliss, Joe opened his eyes and admired the beautiful woman’s work. He softly ran his fingers through her platinum blond hair, enjoying the silky smooth feel. He also noticed pulling down the top part of her dress, exposing those large breasts of hers. After giving his manhood a few thorough licks, she mashed his cock between them, creating that extra tight feeling that sent him to a new level of desire.
“What do you say, Mr. Riverston? Feeling more ready for your presentation?” Cindy asked with a lurid undertone.
“I’m definitely feeling more energized. That’s for sure,” Joe replied with a goofy grin.
“Then, there’s still room for improvement. Lucky for you, I have other skills to help with that.”
Joe didn’t dare speculate on the nature of those skills. He didn’t have to because Cindy showed him.
Like skilled performer putting on a show, she pulled back briefly – while the limousine was still in motion, no less – and turned around. As Joe admired that ample buttocks of hers, she reached behind and zipped her dress. Then, with the grace of an angel and the sex appeal nothing short of divine, she slid it off. In doing so, she rendered herself completely naked.
“My God…Cindy,” Joe gasped.
“Oops! I forgot to wear panties this morning,” she said playfully. “Oh well, it happens.”
Joe would’ve laughed hysterically if he hadn’t been so in awe of the sight before him. Cindy, a woman with a voluptuous body right out of a dirty magazine, was completely naked. She even bent over, as if to give him a better view of her butt. She then turned around, giving him an eyeful of her big breasts and cleanly-shaven pussy. She gazed at him like a woman on a mission, one that involved her being naked and him having a raging boner.
“I’m going to ride your cock now,” Cindy told him. “Then, when you get ready to come, I want you to shoot it on my tits. Understand?”
“I understand,” Joe instinctively said, too dazed to give it a second thought.
“Good! If that doesn’t give you sufficient confidence, then nothing will.”
He had no idea what kind of logic she was using. He was beyond caring, though. He was going to have sex with this woman. That was the only thing on his mind now.
Remaining in his seat, he watched as Cindy crawled back over to him like the perfect embodiment of female sex appeal. Upon reaching him, she reached for something under the seat. It was a condom. She and the driver must have prepared ahead of time. Being a meticulous, organized person by nature, he could respect that.
In short order, she opened the package and put it on over his throbbing cock. Then, she rose up, crawled onto his lap again so that she straddled his waist, and aligned the wet opening of her pussy with the tip of his dick. Joe, lost in her seductive gaze, could only grab onto those toned hips of hers and hold on. With burning anticipation, he braced himself as she lowered her hips, guiding his dick up into her pussy.
“Ooh Cindy!” Joe gasped. “It’s so hot and tight!”
“And you’re so hard and strong,” the beautiful woman purred, now cupping his face with her hands. “Hard, strong, and powerful…and don’t you forget it!”
A part of Joe sensed what she was doing, using sex to make him feel stronger and more powerful than he would have otherwise. Rich must have thought it would help him take on a job he didn’t think he could do. At that moment, though, he didn’t care for the reason. Joe just embraced the power and strength that came with fucking this beautiful woman.
Like a skilled dancer carrying out a routine, Cindy skillfully worked her hips, riding his cock with a focused intensity. There was nothing crude or callous about it. She wasn’t just some whore riding a dick, trying to get a client off. She put actual work into it, another trait that a hard-working man like him could admire. Hard work had always paid off for him, but it had never paid off like this.
“Strong…powerful…so good! Strong…powerful…so good!” Cindy repeated, chanting it like a mantra.
“Oh Cindy!” was all Joe could get out.
Even as the limousine stopped and started, navigating the rush-hour traffic, neither he nor Cindy lost focus. They kept their sex going, establishing a steady, but thorough rhythm. There was no hurry, but there was still a sense of urgency, as though they both sought to maximize their work to get the best possible results. For the work he had ahead of him, Joe couldn’t think of anything more fitting.
As Cindy put in the effort, Joe sought to do his part as well. He showed off his own strength, slipping his hands to her butt and using his arms to guide her gyrations. She really seemed to enjoy that, grinning and purring at his displays of strength. He also elevated his hips slightly, allowing her to ride him at an angle. It helped her really work her pussy along the full length of his cock, ensuring a perfect melding of his flesh with hers.
At one point, he kissed her and she eagerly kissed back. Showing a sense of power and initiative seemed to encourage her, another lesson of sorts in strength and confidence. Together, the mutual motions of their naked bodies fully complemented one another, making for an extra hot, extra empowering feeling.
It was so powerful that Joe didn’t want it to end too quickly. He exercised more restraint than most men would during sex with such a beautiful woman, holding back his release in an attempt to maximize the pleasure. Cindy rewarded that approach with more intense motions, planting both feet on the seat and really working her hips hard, the wet smacking sounds of their flesh echoing throughout the care.
Eventually, though, Joe’s capacity for restraint reached its limit. His body craved its release. Seeing Cindy’s big tits bounce in accord with each motion made him want desperately to spray his cum onto them. He was almost ready and so was Cindy.
“Cindy, I…I’m close! I’m getting…really close,” he grunted.
“Mmm…yeah, I can feel it,” she purred. “My pussy loves strong, powerful cocks. I’m so hot right now. I’m ready to feel your cum on my tits!”
With reflexes and cunning that would’ve put any professional to shame, Cindy rose up off his cock and dropped to her knees again. Then, in a swift motion, she removed the condom and guided his throbbing cock between her tits. The feeling of those fleshy mounds around his member sent him past that special threshold from which there was no return.
“Oohhh I’m coming!” Joe exclaimed.
“Yes! Give it to me!” Cindy urged.
At that fateful moment, a surge of white-hot ecstasy erupted from his core. Joe, now clinging to her shoulders, let out a deep moan as he achieved his release. His cock throbbed hard in between her breasts before shooting out a thick stream of fluid that splattered onto her tits and face. It was an even bigger load than he’d expected, possibly the biggest he’d released in his adult life. It might have also been the most satisfying.
Even as Joe immersed himself in the ecstasy, Cindy kept putting in the work, pressing her breasts together and sliding his cock between them to extract every drop. She didn’t seem to mind how much of it ended up on her face. She even licked some of it up, as though it were her favorite treat.
She left no part of the job unfinished when it came to bringing him to ecstasy. It felt like a mix of sex appeal and professional courtesy. It proved quite potent. Even after the orgasmic sensations subsided, Joe felt immensely satisfied.
“Wow!” Joe said breathlessly. “Cindy, I feel…”
“Happy? Content? Confident? Strong?” she offered as she extracted the last drop of cum from his dick.
“All of the above,” he said with a grin.
“Then, it’s official. You’re ready for the conference!”
His grin grew wider as the realization sank in. Looking out the window briefly, seeing the big buildings and opulent resorts of the Las Vegas strip pass by, he felt so ready to face what lay before him. Whether it was the afterglow of having sex with a beautiful woman or some deeper lesson that Cindy taught him, he was ready for a new set of challenges.
Confident in his newfound strength, he turned his attention back to Cindy, who had sense separated from his cock and began wiping the cum off her breasts with a nearby napkin. She was still naked and she still looked so damn good in the early morning hours of a busy day. As he admired her, Joe decided that the time had come to mix things up with his overly-organized approach to work. It had worked so well thus far. He might as well see how far he could take it.
“From the looks of it, we’ve still got time before we arrive at the convention center,” Joe commented.
“Yeah, I’d say we got a good fifteen minutes or so,” Cindy said with a content sigh. “That’s plenty of time to get dressed and have another drink, if you want.”
“Actually, I’m wondering if that’s enough time for me to eat your pussy out until you come as well. You did say I’m a genuine man. Well, let me prove it to you.”
Now, it was Cindy’s turn to smile and laugh in amazement. He doubted she expected such courtesy. She said it herself. She dealt with plenty of men who were phony and frauds. Joe refused to be one of them.
“So confident and driven,” Cindy said. “I love it! I can’t say it’ll help you with your presentation. But if you’re that determined to be that good a man, then I sure won’t stop you.”
“Good!” Joe said confidently. “Because if I’m going to get the job done while he was in Las Vegas, I might as well start with satisfying a beautiful woman!”
Filed under Sexy Short Story
The following is a review I wrote for PopMatters for Ms. Marvel #31. Enjoy!
Milestones, Achievements, and Slumber Parties: Ms. Marvel #31
Is The Human Race Ready For Contact With Alien Life?
In general, I tend to have a high opinion of the human race. I believe that, in general, people are inherently good and will do the right thing in the long run, even if it requires mistakes and missteps along the way. Some of my personal experiences have fed this belief, as well as stories of incredible acts of compassion.
I say that as a preface because my faith in humanity does have limits. There are certain issues where those limits become a critical factor in answering major questions about where we are, as a species, and where we’re heading. I’ve tried answering some of those questions before, such as humanity’s readiness for advanced artificial intelligence. Now, I want to try to answer another where I feel humanity’s limits are a real issue.
It has to do with whether or not humans are alone in the universe. It’s probably one of the most fundamental questions our species has ever asked, inspiring heated debates, famous equations, and Hollywood blockbusters. I’ve certainly asked that question a time or two when looking up at the stars. I imagine there are few people who haven’t.
At the moment, the sheer size of the universe and the ever-growing number of planets we keep finding, the raw numbers make it almost certain that there’s other life outside our planet. It may even be within our own solar system. Just finding some microbes on one of Jupiter’s moons would be pretty profound, but I doubt it would bring that much change to the human race. Some might just brush it off or call it fake news.
It’s the act of discovering intelligent extraterrestrial life that has far greater implications for humanity. I would even argue that those implications could determine whether the human race will survive beyond the destruction of Earth, which is inevitable. Even advanced artificial intelligence wouldn’t compare because at least humans would create that. An intelligent alien civilization would be much less predictable.
In confronting this existential issue, I don’t believe movies or TV shows have come close to getting it right. “Contact” made a commendable effort, but never gave more than a half-answer. Movies like “Independence Day” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” were overly simplistic in their approach. That’s to be expected because, logistically speaking, there’s no way to fit all the implications into a single two-hour movie.
I believe that to answer the question of humanity’s readiness to confront an extraterrestrial species is multi-faceted. There are plenty of factors to consider, but before I get too bogged down by the particulars, I want to offer my personal opinion on the issue. Then, I hope to demonstrate why I have this opinion.
No, the human race is NOT ready for contact with intelligent extraterrestrial aliens, but we’re getting there.
I know that isn’t a straightforward answer. It may sound like I’m trying to stand on both sides of the fence, but like I said, the question is inherently complex. As such, it’s hard to offer a simple answer.
Part of the complexity comes from circumstances. In an instance where scientists on Earth identify an advanced alien species, possibly by detecting an alien mega structure like a Dyson Sphere around a distant star, I think the human race could handle that, for the most part.
Such a discovery would be, by far, the greatest ever made in the history of humanity. It would be the story of the millennium and confirm, once and for all, the answer to one of the most fundamental questions our species has ever asked. Getting an answer to that question would change how we see ourselves in the universe, but the extent of the impact would be limited.
Sure, it might cause some disruptions with respect to major religions, although some denominations already preparing for that. It might also cause some ripples in the social fabric of society. If we know there are alien civilizations in the universe that are more advanced than us, then suddenly we have fewer excuses to impose petty divisions within our own species.
There would be upheaval. There would be tension, as well. I still believe that society would adapt in that scenario. Once the shock wears off, we may very well go back to how we were before. Future generations would just shrug off the notion that advanced aliens exist and focus primarily on the issues directly affecting them on Earth.
There’s another instance, however, that has far more profound implications, as well as greater danger. In that scenario, the advanced alien civilization contacts us directly. Moreover, it effectively announces that it’s coming to meet us and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
In that scenario, I don’t think the current order will remain intact. If we found out tomorrow that intelligent aliens exist and they’re on their way to greet us, I believe that society, as we know it, will fall apart under the weight of fear, uncertainty, and outright dread.
My reasons for believing this have less to do with my faith in humanity and more to do with my understanding of basic human psychology. It’s proven science that the human psyche is adverse to uncertainty. From a purely survival standpoint, that makes sense. Not knowing whether there’s a hungry lion hiding in the bushes is detrimental to our survival. We have a legitimate evolutionary reason for avoiding such situations.
An advanced alien civilization isn’t just a possible threat. It’s the ultimate uncertainty. Even if those aliens are peace-loving hippies who want nothing more than to create a utopian world for every species they encounter, we won’t know for certain. Even if they try to articulate their peaceful intentions, we may not believe them because assuming wrong would be more dire than any hungry lion.
If an alien civilization is advanced enough to both contact us and traverse interstellar space, then it’s highly likely that we wouldn’t stand a chance at stopping them. Despite what “Independence Day” might have you believe, there’s just no way we would be able to counter technology that could carry another species across the stars.
On top of that, we wouldn’t even know if these aliens were biological creatures, like us. More than a few scientists have speculated that it’s the natural path of all advanced life that it transcend its biology to become machines in part or entirely, which makes sense for any species that wants to survive in the vacuum of space. I would agree that any initial encounter humans have with advanced aliens will come in the form of a probe.
Even if that probe is no bigger than a basketball, its arrival on Earth would trigger so much panic that our society, economy, and political institutions wouldn’t survive in their current form. That’s not to say civilization would completely collapse. Some areas might descend into anarchy, but most wealthy countries would remain intact.
However, I believe they’ll remain intact through strict martial law. I also believe that, in the face of incoming aliens, there would be a huge scramble among nations to put together some sort of defense plan. Anyone remotely experienced with science or engineering would suddenly become incredibly valuable for their skills and likely be required to work on this issue.
No matter what recourse humanity takes, though, I don’t think it’ll matter once intelligent aliens arrive. The worst case scenario is that people are so afraid that a few become too trigger happy and attempt to attack. In that case, if the advanced aliens are the vindictive type, they would probably wipe humanity out with the same ease that we would use to step on an ant.
While I don’t think that scenario is that likely, I can certainly see fear dominating the discourse. It would probably extend beyond the initial contact. Even if the aliens present themselves as friendly visitors, I imagine there will still be plenty of paranoia that it could all be a trick. Given how eager some people are to embrace conspiracy theories, I think this will cause plenty of problem, even in the best case scenario.
There’s still a chance that the human race could adapt to this encounter and be stronger because of it. However, if I had to bet money on the ultimate outcome, I wouldn’t wager much on that outcome. I think, at the moment, it’s more likely that fear and uncertainty will lead to the kind of irrational behavior that would prevent humanity from benefiting from an encounter with intelligent aliens.
As it stands, humans can’t even prevent conflict when encountering one another, especially if they look and act differently. I can’t imagine it would be much better if we encountered a species that was so different that we just had no way of relating to them. At least with minorities here on Earth, we share the same basic human template. For all we know, aliens will look, think, and feel things that are beyond our abilities.
Now, I know that scenario sounds bleak, especially for someone who claims to have more faith in humanity than most. However, there’s one last caveat that further complicates the issue and it has to do with the last part of my answer.
When I stated that the human race is not ready to encounter an advanced alien species, I mean that within a specific context. In the same way I don’t believe humanity is ready for advanced AI at the moment, I don’t think the collective psyche of the human race is to a point where we can accept the idea of confronting an intelligent alien civilization.
That, I do think we’re more ready today than we were 30 years ago. Humanity has made remarkable progress with respect to technology, society, and general welfare. Being more connected through media, the internet, and globalization has helped us better see ourselves as one species, at least to the extent our inherent tribalism will allow.
I believe that in the coming decades, especially as we augment our brains and our bodies, we’ll be more prepared to encounter an extraterrestrial intelligence. I’m not sure we’ll ever be completely ready, but I do think we’ll get to a point where we, as a society, will be able to handle it.
Whether or not that point comes within my lifetime or that of the kids being born today is hard to say, but given enough time and continued progress, I believe we’ll get there. For now, though, the prospect of encountering an intelligent alien civilization would incur some pretty detrimental effects on our species and our world. Even if aliens come in peace, we just not be ready to accept it.
Filed under Aliens, human nature, media issues, philosophy, psychology
