What if there was an insane, Class X solar flare on December 21st of this year, the kind that sent ions that would change our evolutionary make-up?
For you Creationists out there, I guess this isn’t a worry. You’ll all be on the Rapture Express before anything of this sort could happen but for the rest of us, if this did happen…ye gods.
Maybe some people would find it good.
Well, I’m not going to off on some Bradbury tangent and describe the science, because knowledge is boring in the land of Information. Let us just assume that it happened. Here is my opinion of what human beings would become if their genetic make-up was affected in such a way that it brought forward their truest selves.
THE POLITICIAN: A funny looking fellow. He waddles, hunched forward so he can see. His head no longer sits upon his shoulders, for it has dropped backwards and fired straight up his puckered, starfish bunghole. He is hairless, and his nipples have turned into eyes. His bellybutton is now his mouth, a yawning gap that resembles a stretched anus, because it is. He defecates and speaks through the same orifice, often simultaneously, and the sound is pure bass. His breath smells like rotting corpse.
THE PEOPLE: Most of them look the same as the Politician. The main differences are that the People are constantly drooling from their bellymouths and they are hairy. They carry an endless supply of tissues. They fart and belch in deflating-balloon whines and jump up and down to have their voices heard. NOTE: Some people are still normal, and they have fled to the mountains, where the Ass-People fear to tread. No creature-comforts (structures, air-conditioning) in the mountains.
THE POLICE: Of course, they look like swine. As with the People, there are some left normal but they are in the minority, and those cops who did not run with the groups of normal humans to the mountains have been slaughtered.
THE SOLDIER: They are stone creatures with the power of regeneration. They must regenerate, for if they do not they will become piles of cement-dust. Gray, and rough to the touch, they crunch when they move. They leave several inches of their dust in the street when they march in rallies for the Politicians. They cannot speak. Their main function in this future dystopia is to keep people out of the post office. (Communication with other communities is illegal for any who are not Politicians, and the Internet is illegal as well. The Pols blame the Internet for what has happened to almost everyone. Something about so much magnetism in the air…it makes sense to them.)
THE PROLES: Normal humans who stayed behind because certain members of their families underwent the change, and they cannot bear to leave. Many of them are young mothers. They shovel feces and dust out of the street with bulldozers, collecting the mess for Processing (fertilizer, cement).
THE DOCTORS: They are Mugwumps, fish-people with webbed-bone constructions on either side of their heads. They dispense a substance from a long proboscis that extends in a slime-covered rope-length from their mouths (it is a highly evolved intestine). This proboscis is not merely for eating, but to secrete a panacea the Ass-People line up to suckle. The effect of the Doctors’ secretions is similar to opium, a lackadaisical dream-state that keeps people from farting too loud or returning to normal, and keeps their internal organs in perfect working order. Thus, stress-levels are low and there is no sickness (what Sick Folk come to light – always Proles - are exterminated rather than healed). The Doctor’s sole purpose is to dispense this Drug, though they occasionally provide a sort of hand-relief to the Politicians.
THE WRITER: He is a zephyr-headed grotesque. The community keeps him in a sandbox, buried up to the waist, and he is not allowed to leave. Since ink is prohibited, he uses sharp rocks to draw his own blood and write subversive statements on his forehead and chest. The Police send Proles along to hose him down. Sometimes the Police come themselves to kick him in the face. He keeps insisting that there are others like him in the communities, and that people should all get away from the Doctors and the Politicians. He says if they did, they would all return to normal. This makes him dangerous but he can be occasionally entertaining to the Proles, which keeps the Proles working. Therefore, he has a purpose and is worth tolerating.
And this is as far as I have thought about my Brave New World. It is ghastly, as it should be. Why do I think this is what would become of humanity if there were a fast, thorough burst of evolution? It isn’t because I like mountain people.