SM: A Kind Of Grace
Title: A Kind Of Grace
Theme: Prejudice
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Characters: Serenity
Mother says the Terrans are a warring civilization. They're constantly going at one another (especially the Eurasians and the Oceanics; oh they do love a good massacre) over territory and gold and whose prince is shagging whose princess in the temple of whose Virgin Goddess. So very human in their mindless hatred for one another, birthed from the loins of their simple minds.
Right now, there is a border dispute in a land called Babylonia. Mars is the only one who's seen it firsthand, and she says it's all blood and rotting flesh under the overbearing sun. Not sure I'd want to drop in for a visit. Humans, she says sometimes, were bred to fight, to wound, to maim. To puncture the hearts of foes with blades of silver.
In my studies, I've read of a people that celebrates-yes, celebrates, you read that correctly-those of its kind who have passed on. They're called the Aztecs, if my memory serves me. They take the skulls of ancestors and adorn them with orange marigolds (we don't have those here in Mare Serenitatis) and the families clean the graves and replace the dust with offerings. They light candles and drink tequila and pray and laugh at fond memories. And it's all about rebirth instead of death, and it's colorful and there is only the soft swell of love in their hearts as they dance. And I think there's a kind of grace in that.
It's not that I don't believe my people when they say Earth is a haven for criminals and barbarians. It's just that... I look at the Earth, and I see life. It's all blues and greens and yellows and reds-a cacophony of passion and beauty and yes, sometimes pain and bloodshed. But isn't that better than passivity and boredom?
Theme: Prejudice
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Characters: Serenity
Mother says the Terrans are a warring civilization. They're constantly going at one another (especially the Eurasians and the Oceanics; oh they do love a good massacre) over territory and gold and whose prince is shagging whose princess in the temple of whose Virgin Goddess. So very human in their mindless hatred for one another, birthed from the loins of their simple minds.
Right now, there is a border dispute in a land called Babylonia. Mars is the only one who's seen it firsthand, and she says it's all blood and rotting flesh under the overbearing sun. Not sure I'd want to drop in for a visit. Humans, she says sometimes, were bred to fight, to wound, to maim. To puncture the hearts of foes with blades of silver.
In my studies, I've read of a people that celebrates-yes, celebrates, you read that correctly-those of its kind who have passed on. They're called the Aztecs, if my memory serves me. They take the skulls of ancestors and adorn them with orange marigolds (we don't have those here in Mare Serenitatis) and the families clean the graves and replace the dust with offerings. They light candles and drink tequila and pray and laugh at fond memories. And it's all about rebirth instead of death, and it's colorful and there is only the soft swell of love in their hearts as they dance. And I think there's a kind of grace in that.
It's not that I don't believe my people when they say Earth is a haven for criminals and barbarians. It's just that... I look at the Earth, and I see life. It's all blues and greens and yellows and reds-a cacophony of passion and beauty and yes, sometimes pain and bloodshed. But isn't that better than passivity and boredom?