Dear son,
I write these words in acute physical pain, as you can probably already guess. I chose to write them myself, rather than dictating them to the young man you employed for that specific purpose, for the sole reason that my mental anguish outweighs any weariness of joints I might be experiencing. It saddens me to know that I will be shortly leaving you; I know you are well-equipped for the journey of life, but a father can never be too cautious.
I address you now as a young man, full of hope and faith and optimism. As a child you were exactly the same, save for the added feature of intense curiosity. You wanted to know how we came about to live on Neptune and why we'd done so, whether there was life on other planets and if so, why we'd left it. I found it a staggering feat to keep up with your questions, especially since I felt that detailed explanations might be too complex--better yet, too corrupt for your pure brain. I tried to shield you from the truth, and you gradually let the matter drop--whether that was as a result of forgetfulness or deliberate abstinence, only you and God shall know--but I feel that, with death so hot upon my heels, I had better explain what it is only fitting for you to hear from me.
Years ago, my son, the majority of the population of the Solar System was concentrated on a tiny ball of green and blue called the Earth. (I suppose you can already guess how self-centered the inhabitants of this planet were just by its name.) They did not look like us; God created them in different colours and shapes, as he has us, but most of these Earthlings strived to achieve a uniform appearance. You may have come across the terms "fashion" and "mass market" before; these were things the Earthlings in power used to control those below them. The division of power itself upon the Earth was quite intriguing. Being rich was almost always a guarantee to regency; however, other factors could come into play as well. You could be powerful just because you had a powerful relative! Most fascinating, I know. What is even more remarkable is that you could be respected for things you had no hand in, and which everyone knew you had no hand in--these feats ranged from simple things like eye colour to greater things like ghostwritten novels. It was quite a social structure, this Earth was--which brings me to my next point.
The Earthlings were of a strange mix. Some of them pledged steadfast allegiance to science while others held complete belief in myth (for they believed them to be two completely different things). Others still dabbled in both. Most Earthlings, despite their declarations, believed in a theory that stated that their world would come to an end on the twenty-first of December on the year two-thousand-and-twelve. Now, my son, you must understand that these Earthlings had a flair for the dramatic. They believed the end of their world would come in the form of a magnified natural disaster or a swerving comet or some such thing. They were also, as I mentioned above, extremely self-centered; they believed the end of their world meant the end of the entire universe.
As it was, time passed--as it is prone to do--and the fated day came. Some Earthlings hid in fear in their homes, while others put on shows of bravado, walking with more gusto with each passing second. These people did not know the secret. Those who did, however, were busy getting onto the vehicles that would transport them here, to Neptune. They were a mixed crowd. They did not believe in the term "misfit". Everyone was a misfit, hence the theory annihilated itself. They believed in the uniqueness of everyone, and most of all, they believed in everyone's right to be respected for that uniqueness. The Earthlings had called them "idealistic". Perhaps they were; the life we live now was but a mere dream on the now-abandoned Earth. But they took a stand. The first voyage was made up of about ten thousand people, but the spread of the news ignited hope in most Earthlings' hearts, and they too desired transportation to Neptune. There was a key factor of differentiation, however: only those with a sincere desire to repent, to change their ways, to live by peace and love and equality were allowed to board the shuttles. I shall not bore you with the technical details of the test the first voyagers devised; you can find that out on your own, if you search thoroughly enough. Eventually, the only life left on the Earth was that of the souls that had no desire to change; those who only wished power, and would have it at the expense of corruption. You'll notice that throughout this narrative I have used the past tense, but the truth is, they might still be there now, and we would never now. We do not want to know.
Excuse me if my handwriting is a little faulty, or my explanations a little defective, for I am an aging old man, and although that is no reason for me to fail you, it shall have to suffice. I hope this letter reaches you after news of my death does, for I fear lest you should abandon your promising career in the false hopes of nursing me out of sickness. Some sickness you cannot be nursed out of, son. But that, that is not sickness. That is life fulfilling its ultimate promise, its purpose. It does not lie or cheat, and I hope that, by bringing you to this planet, I have allowed you to experience an existence where humans do not either.
Your loving father
I write these words in acute physical pain, as you can probably already guess. I chose to write them myself, rather than dictating them to the young man you employed for that specific purpose, for the sole reason that my mental anguish outweighs any weariness of joints I might be experiencing. It saddens me to know that I will be shortly leaving you; I know you are well-equipped for the journey of life, but a father can never be too cautious.
I address you now as a young man, full of hope and faith and optimism. As a child you were exactly the same, save for the added feature of intense curiosity. You wanted to know how we came about to live on Neptune and why we'd done so, whether there was life on other planets and if so, why we'd left it. I found it a staggering feat to keep up with your questions, especially since I felt that detailed explanations might be too complex--better yet, too corrupt for your pure brain. I tried to shield you from the truth, and you gradually let the matter drop--whether that was as a result of forgetfulness or deliberate abstinence, only you and God shall know--but I feel that, with death so hot upon my heels, I had better explain what it is only fitting for you to hear from me.
Years ago, my son, the majority of the population of the Solar System was concentrated on a tiny ball of green and blue called the Earth. (I suppose you can already guess how self-centered the inhabitants of this planet were just by its name.) They did not look like us; God created them in different colours and shapes, as he has us, but most of these Earthlings strived to achieve a uniform appearance. You may have come across the terms "fashion" and "mass market" before; these were things the Earthlings in power used to control those below them. The division of power itself upon the Earth was quite intriguing. Being rich was almost always a guarantee to regency; however, other factors could come into play as well. You could be powerful just because you had a powerful relative! Most fascinating, I know. What is even more remarkable is that you could be respected for things you had no hand in, and which everyone knew you had no hand in--these feats ranged from simple things like eye colour to greater things like ghostwritten novels. It was quite a social structure, this Earth was--which brings me to my next point.
The Earthlings were of a strange mix. Some of them pledged steadfast allegiance to science while others held complete belief in myth (for they believed them to be two completely different things). Others still dabbled in both. Most Earthlings, despite their declarations, believed in a theory that stated that their world would come to an end on the twenty-first of December on the year two-thousand-and-twelve. Now, my son, you must understand that these Earthlings had a flair for the dramatic. They believed the end of their world would come in the form of a magnified natural disaster or a swerving comet or some such thing. They were also, as I mentioned above, extremely self-centered; they believed the end of their world meant the end of the entire universe.
As it was, time passed--as it is prone to do--and the fated day came. Some Earthlings hid in fear in their homes, while others put on shows of bravado, walking with more gusto with each passing second. These people did not know the secret. Those who did, however, were busy getting onto the vehicles that would transport them here, to Neptune. They were a mixed crowd. They did not believe in the term "misfit". Everyone was a misfit, hence the theory annihilated itself. They believed in the uniqueness of everyone, and most of all, they believed in everyone's right to be respected for that uniqueness. The Earthlings had called them "idealistic". Perhaps they were; the life we live now was but a mere dream on the now-abandoned Earth. But they took a stand. The first voyage was made up of about ten thousand people, but the spread of the news ignited hope in most Earthlings' hearts, and they too desired transportation to Neptune. There was a key factor of differentiation, however: only those with a sincere desire to repent, to change their ways, to live by peace and love and equality were allowed to board the shuttles. I shall not bore you with the technical details of the test the first voyagers devised; you can find that out on your own, if you search thoroughly enough. Eventually, the only life left on the Earth was that of the souls that had no desire to change; those who only wished power, and would have it at the expense of corruption. You'll notice that throughout this narrative I have used the past tense, but the truth is, they might still be there now, and we would never now. We do not want to know.
Excuse me if my handwriting is a little faulty, or my explanations a little defective, for I am an aging old man, and although that is no reason for me to fail you, it shall have to suffice. I hope this letter reaches you after news of my death does, for I fear lest you should abandon your promising career in the false hopes of nursing me out of sickness. Some sickness you cannot be nursed out of, son. But that, that is not sickness. That is life fulfilling its ultimate promise, its purpose. It does not lie or cheat, and I hope that, by bringing you to this planet, I have allowed you to experience an existence where humans do not either.
Your loving father
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