A story of a rose, an artist and history
It was the year 2700 AD. C. and the technological advances of humanity were impressive. By now, 99% of diseases had been eliminated and the average lifespan was around 150 years. New and innovative fields of science had been opened up and subdivided. Art found new and creative ways to express itself. People’s paths became not necessarily simple, but all aimed at fulfilling the passion of the heart, the creativity of the mind.
Bastello walked with her lover Rols, trotting smoothly across the unbroken cobblestones. Passing by a housing unit, they hear some screaming. It was his friend Casva. “Hey Bastello! Rols! I have something you want to see!”
“Here we go!” Bastello yelled. Technology had been molded with biology in this era, and many bodies included implants that helped boost immunity, strength, and other basic functions.
“What do you have for us, Casva?” Rols once asked that the two were inside his comrade’s housing unit.
“My most recent creation,” he replied, “Are you looking?”
“The flower?” Bastello asked, “What about that?”
“I’ve been tweaking your genes for the last few weeks,” Casva said sadly, “I bought a gene manipulation kit at the hobby store. With all the effort I’ve put into it, I think I’ve been able to create the most beautiful flower I’ve ever seen.” never existed.” A look at the scene at this time would reveal a flower, a computer connected to the flower, and a solar panel similarly connected to the flower. “This solar panel allows me to get more power to the flower faster,” Casva says, “Sure, sure, it’s not natural the way other hobbyists like it, but hey, it gets you to the best part faster.”
“So what do you have to show us?” Rols asked, “It’s a flower. It’s not even open. It’s very closed.”
“Okay, check this out,” Casva replies. He/she goes to her computer and presses some keys, then activates three switches connected to the solar panel.
With all that, the flower bloomed. It was a rose, but not an ordinary rose. The petals began to change color, twisting and turning orange, purple, green, blue, yellow, the colors coming in and out like waves breaking in the ocean. The psychedelic colors of the flower molded, morphed, grew, rose, shrank and receded. But, just as they had managed to be completely amazed by this flower show, something else happened. It started to spin. The flower head rotated at an extremely slow rate, which added to the immense beauty of the plant, allowing others to better appreciate its colors. And then something strange happened… In the entire room, a sound could be heard. A very soft and growing buzz could be heard coming from the center of the flower. It almost sounded like a choral voice. Very light. Very friendly. Very delicate. This flower, whose colors were constantly changing and transforming, its head was slowly turning, and now, the perfect voice of a human resounded within it… In one more minute, all these functions would stop and it would shut down again.
“Wow, that was amazing,” Bastello said, “I mean, I’ve seen some flowers do crazy things, but that was absolutely brilliant.”
“Seven thousand lines of altered genes, my friend,” said Casva, tapping on his computer, “there are billions I have yet to connect.”
“I haven’t seen anything so beautiful in all my years,” Rols said.
“Yes,” Casva replied, “It takes 12 hours of solar panel charging just to get two minutes. I’m trying to reduce that time without damaging the plant’s capabilities.”
“You know, Casva,” Bastello said, “several hundred years ago, working with things like genetics was considered a social violation. It was considered heresy, to play as a god, to do what you have done.”
“Oh, I know,” replied Casva, “and just a few hundred years before that, it was considered heresy to paint a picture of anything that didn’t include angels or gods. So many paintings were burned, so many libraries were destroyed.” And, if we also want to delve into the past, you will remember that what doctors did was considered heretical, because everyone thought that God had planned for them a date of death, and prolonging that date was considered heresy.
“Yeah, you think people would learn to live and let live,” Rols said, “if it doesn’t bother you, don’t fuck with it.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly it,” Casva said, as he unplugged some cables from his computer, then looked at his colleagues, “Actually, I think it’s learning what bothers you and what doesn’t. “Don’t mind. The Nazis could actually argue that by allowing Jews to live in peace, they were being harassed. Early 20th century homophobes argued that by allowing homosexuals to live in peace, they were being harassed. Don’t.” you would.” think about it at first, but the ‘sanctity of marriage’ has almost the same foundation as the ‘sanctity of the white race’. Most of the time, it’s the persecutor whose psychology, in fact, hasn’t grown much more than when he was maybe three or four years ago. It is the fault of the persecutor to harbor sick ideas of oppression, not the fault of the oppressed to fight back.”
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