talks about the Bang as if it were a great party that got
a little out of control.
I remember the time before.
I remember is that I was not me, I was all matter and so was
else and the burning unity, the singularly hot and dense intimacy,
was a far better universe to me than the slow astronomical
ballet we are playing out now, stretched for millennia as imperceptibly
thinning dust. You are about to give me advice: maybe I should
join a star. I assure you, it is not the same. Being a star
nice and warm, really bright and industrious, until you grow
cold and collapse. Then when the gravity is so strong not even
can escape, the other particles start to get really irritating.
Before the Bang: that was different. That was before I was
an electron. As soon as someone decided they were a separate
to leave everything just blew up and now there is time: awful
dull slow time. During the expansion I did what every electron
I got a hydrogen molecule together in the hopes that we would
someday undergo fusion and become a heavier, more stable molecule.
to bond with other particles but strangely I find myself continually
repelled by other electrons. We drifted for awhile and got
a gig in a dust cloud orbiting itself. We picked up enough
we collapsed and formed a solar system. Yeah, every electron's
dream, I know, but it took forever. We just kept on accelerating
and accelerating but it never felt like we were moving. I was
lucky enough to get involved in a planet and we lived it up.
I was heavily
into methane and was in more than one lightningbolt. Then one
night a bunch of us formed unicellular lifeforms. We didn't
we were doing. About this time I really started wishing I could
get off the planet. No luck. I spent a lot of time in plants
and animals which were getting larger and more complex every
It wasn't that great. At least in the unicellular lifeforms
everyone knew each other. We'd be plankton, get absorbed by
a whale, beach,
be assimilated by carrion, then a bug, then some bird would
ingest us and so on. I was even involved with a—you guessed it—human.
Wait, here's the ironic part. This human was selected somehow
by its species, I'll never understand why, for a special project.
They put it in a special container and shot it into space.
Now I sit by a tiny round window watching my planet, my host,
pirouette slowly across a gulf of emptiness as I write my memoirs.
I am nostalgic for that time before the Bang. I look at the
other electrons in my molecule (I am in Oxygen now. I know.
whom I will never meet. And I look at the other molecules in
my cell. I look at the other cells in my body and down below
above are the other bodies in my species, the other species
in my ecosystem, the other ecosystems on my planet, the other
the other planetary systems... See? I long for a time when
there was no plurality, only a singularity. Maybe it will happen