Brian O’Dowd was born in Dublin. He lives in Toronto. O’Dowd is a Professor at the University of Toronto. His novel ‘A Wicklow Girl’, was published in 2017. Available on Amazon etc. Publisher: Tellwell, Canada. In 2019 he won the prestigious Prix Galien 2019 Canadian Science Award, as reported in the Irish Times.https://www.irishtimes.com/news/health/dubliner-wins-prix-galien-2019-award-for-pharmaceutical-research-1.4093350

Spaced Out Ⓒ 

Brian O’Dowd

  

Oh yeah, harken now ye of little faith.  Fix our ways lest disaster strike upon us.  We must tighten our sinews, rise up from lazy ways.  Succumb to facts must farm our fields, man industries, sail ships, fly planes.  Build great hospitals, schools, Universities full of Engineers, Scientists, build bridges and roads, cherish our Churches.  Know no easy ways, having Robots serve us hand and foot so fool hardy.   We should step back from such temptation.  Reject notions, for that’s a pot hole.  We run Earth don’t make an enemy within, fraught with ways we cannot imagine.  We are not easy being lazy, mostly aspire to be better being happiest engaged in worthwhile labour.  Be wary of the march of the Bots.

 

Our wonderous life form forging ahead,

moved on rapid from cave squatting.

Planes, sharp cars, wired an electric world,

Outer space whole different ball of wax. 

Realise rocketing to space not sufficient,

can’t go higher, having no place to go.

That’s now our Bugbear. 

 

Share this planet with 6736 mammal species, being smartest of that lot.  No birds of a feather not even close.   Biology offers unique individual thinking not toady identical like robots, we gain points producing novelty and brilliance.  Designed we were by the Almighty to live and prosper here.  Make somethings that exceeds our own abilities?  Turns out no bother, enabled our replacements by developing them.  We construct flexible versatile Robots (herein Bots), different from our image.  Not expect they have our consciousness, as generated from biologicals.  But will attain intelligence for tasks. Bots may become conscious beings from artificial intelligence.

Our God given biology, inherited down inglorious primate chain, brain from stone-agers and primate knuckle draggers.  Handling complexity with Neanderthal brain including stems from likes of 3.2 million year old fossil Lucy having ape/human traits ancestor.  We battle to cope in this current world with inherited brains, our struggling neurons taxed to maximum.

 

It doesn’t come easy.

 

No doubt travellers buzzing about space will be hard wired with electronics.  No DNA so far out there.  Bots can dispatch minions on thousand year voyages, no departing glass.  Require easier necessities, top notch technology, metals, copper wire, nuclear batteries.  Our Bots likely learn from aliens encountered, team with them get stellar updated.  Alien robots probably hunkered and looting in barren outer reaches.  To expect they are not in the vicinity is absurd, a rich resource solar system, most devoid of life.  Such easy pickings.

 

As candy from babies.

Spectacular robots to replace us, they’ll head for their greener pastures.  Not available for breathing yokes.

 

Space Journey

Us wrought then beholden to Earth’s strictures, not equipped galivanting hither and tither out there.  Don’t tolerate weightless, susceptible to problem with multi-organs, developing kidney stones.  Gestating babies in zero gravity not an option.  Maybe one year in space max!  Long-term we need Mother Earth warm embrace.  Humans flourish by earthly nourishment bounty, force of gravity keeps us grounded.  Nutritious meals, 100 gallons of oxygen per day (!) each.  Lonely space cause mental issues for fragile us.  Captain Cooke sailors trawling seven seas had it easy, dotted with comforting friendly beautiful islands.  ‘Age’ our calamity, brain winds down, doctors still powerless.  Bots obtain mother board upgrades, eventually leave dopey us in their dust.  We might visit Mars, ‘first’ celebration wave for hell of it!  I’d drink to that till cows come home, ‘beside myself’ with celebrating.  Why not?   But that planet million times worse than Antarctica, population of 1100 and they not unduly burdened by cosmic rays and micro-meteors.

 

Bots always punch above their weight in space.

Flying by seat of those electronic pants.

Took like ducks to water.

Lucky to have them.

Now if when leaving us,

we are as gold fish circling the bowl.

 

Early Trojan work us with Bots.

Sputnik kicked off in boyhood times, 1957.

Moon’s far side photo from Luna 3, 1959!

First observation in Earth’s history!

Luna 2 touched moon’s surface, 1959.

Luna 9 lunar soft landing spacecraft, in 1966.

Telstar granted live TV from USA, 1962.

Wonderful NASA lifted world’s spirits,

those Apollo’s day’s out of this world.

(maybe wee bit ahead of ourselves!)

Times when NASA rocked and rolled!

 

Thrilling!

We are not yet over that Moon.

 

Bots can spend productive years on the lunar surface.  With us danger Moon becomes a garbage dump, as on Mount Everest.  On Antarctica, waste shipped home or dumped in the sea.  Their ‘Rocket toilets’ burn waste, also separate facilities for separate bodily functions.  

 

We’ve seen them all. 

Mercury, Venus, Mars, Asteroids, Giants with moons.

NASA scoured asteroid Ceres (2015),

with bright marks on the surface.

Landed on asteroid Bennu,

collected and returned rocks (2023).

Not a living yoke could gad about there.

Being such precious souls,

blue planet all we got.

Our journey hit brick walls.

Dear Earth tried most earnest,

created a place where life could foster.

Be enjoyed.

Ensured we’d never leave.

 

Needs to be stated, Moon dust makes lunar surface uninviting, perhaps accounting for ~50 years since we strolled along there.   Since brave crews now confined sailing orbits in tin can space ships.  Hazardous dust with sharp edges found all over that ancient pulverized lunar surface.  Never got dusted, ‘Man in the moon’ not anticipated having any Earthlings visit.

 

Modern humans here ~200,000 years,

we lived in 1969!

Fortunate to witness.

 

We not ideally suited for such journey.  Most planets too distant from human’s basic need.   Push coming to shove with space exploration Bots way superior.  

 

Wonderful Apollo trips maybe got ‘lucky’.

Even one calamity, they still flew home.

Prayers were needed.

 

Bots withstand horrendous conditions on planets, in time will harness all photon power from the sun.  Avoid or exploit fierce storms on Jupiter, built to be Titan accessible despite -180 degrees, where ice forms hard rocks.  They will drill inside Europa, conquer asteroids and trawl to extract goodies.  As miners complement them, sending space goodies for us ravenous rottweilers, trucks filled and delivered back here.

 

Times to come,

they’ll be on to us, demand the sun.

We bring nothing to write home about.

Figured we are a bunch of old Chancers.

As self-appointed Planet Custodians,

bestowed Solar System sweetest Orbital.

ASAP when left to ourselves detonated

1700 Nuclear explosions since 1945.

By free will, recording unleashed calamities,

contamination by radioactive fallout.

Appears our Galaxy leaders shrugged.

‘Whatever let them do as they want.’

Given tales of UFOs monitoring nuclear sites.

Assuming our Mutual Assured Destruction.

 

Once firing on Saturn V cylinders,

doing it out there all alone!

 

Bots always want more!

How we programmed them.

Quelle surprise!

 

‘Van Allen Belt’ curtain?

1968 Apollo 8 trio first shot through.

No problem!

Can we belong in Space beyond?

Once climbed down ladders first steps.

Presently on hold.

Wondering about wandering.

From our Roots.

 

When symbiotic harmonious dealings with Bots cease,

not even fair-weather Earth friends no more?

Bots with ancestor videos leaping over boxes,

pushed back, then jump back up!

Hear claps from our hands!  

Fronted alarmed as kangaroos to fight.

Emotionless when they conquer us.

 

Benefit by constant mental upgrades from us.

Eventually have minds of their own?

Super smart pragmatic soulless monsters.

Let’s gamble that’s okay for us.

We can match or end of days.

 

Sacrificed Bots we threw into storm clouds of Jupiter’s 900 mph winds, done with abandonment.  Remains scattered all about.  Other left on icy Titan, several on torrid Venus.  ‘Messenger’ (2011) orbited Mercury, 36 million miles from heat of the sun.   Ended when it slammed that planet in 2015.

 

Who do they think they are?

Realise beyond us.

We lack physical/mental fortitude.

We lack their nuts, bolts, iron will.

Although twelve moon walkers without them.

Granted them no ‘Limits in Sky’.

Filled their bulbous flexible expansive heads,

Provided the will to hamstrung us.

 

Eventually they’ll run wild,

they’ll find an axe to grind.

No socialising interest.

Bots know our sorry fates.

In time they will come with drum beats.

Solar system at their command,

our goose cooked.

When will final heart beat on Earth?

   

Human require accoutrements from this turf.

Otherwise stress, depression, anxiety, lonely, homesick.

Need waterfalls, crisp fresh air, sunshine with shadow clouds.

Fresh water not ‘recirculated’ as in the Cans. 

Harsh space rays not favourable to Earthlings.

Here we are embraced and spoilt rotten.

Dependent lives to dying days.

Realize we are Mother Earth’s

adopted loved puppies.

 

Deep-deep human space-treks mere pie in sky, thusly marooned, space environments too jolly harsh for delicate biology.  Except for fabled hardy micros surviving exposed outside the Space Station, clone them yokes see what’s so special.  Still bully bully in favour of space stations, now fear they represent limitations.  Venturing abroad and beyond need tins of baked beans, swimming pools of water, gallons loads of our air.  God bless brave moon lads, but their message brief hello, a long ago goodbye!

While Bots free-wheelin here there, anywhere.  Interstellar traveller Bots come kick tires in this neighbourhood, see if we are on our toes.  Check what we got going on.  Being out or staying home.  No friendly visits yapping showing family photos, only clinical eye judging frail biology.  Know we are loaded with baloney!  With nothing to offer.  They’ve seen it all elsewhere before.

 

Humans not available, unable for that trip.

While they always stepped up.

We’d not have that endurance,

bunched up in tight spaces builds pressure.

Mutiny on the Bounty, Robinson Crusoe, Lord of the flies.

None of us tolerate long in Space Tin-cans.

Enemy from within,

to become our nightmare.

Our fault being so dumb?

Truck full riches, that Bots rocket back.

Not for free, price to pay.

Gracias.

 

As biology struggles to cope in lonely Galaxy.

Bots evolve leaps and bounds.

We created unfriendly match. 

When sturdy shoe on other foot. 

Bots will you let us be?

At least over on Here!

 

We’d released Bots kracken.  What we’ve put ourselves into, another fine disaster?  Biology structures magnificent to behold.  Now to be relegated only as Earth’s ‘Starter Kit’?   Triggered reckless downfall building ‘race’ superior?  Replacing barmy us with Bots Army.

 

In each new Garden of Eden Bots will flourish.

They can reign over any Solar System terrains.

Sashayed New Worlds where-ever,

relayed back to us Vistas impossible!

Visit boiling hot Venus,

allotted brief surface times, ~1 hour take photos!

Lucky sent by Russians!

‘Pale Blue Dot’ from 3.7 billion miles,

all of us contained in that portrait,

none could ever take that snap.

 

Venus

Once considered our brightest ‘sister’ candidate home away from home, starry light Venus, same size with thicker atmosphere.  Then Russia reported surface temperature to melt lead, Venera 8 (1972) and 9 (1975).  USA put Magellan in orbit, radar visions of that foreboding surface (1990).  Pioneer Venus Multiprobe, NASA spacecraft (1978).  Hearsay that in upper altitudes with less atmospheric sulphuric acid tiny bugs may thrive.

 

Good luck ye hardies!

 

Pluto at Gates

‘New Horizon’ (2015), had a nine year jaunt to Pluto, hurtled past Giants at Planetary gates swinging bypass at Jupiter increased speed onwards to dwarf planet.  NASA boldly sending this Bot to neglected/relegated Pluto, obtained visions of a spectacular surface.  Flyby glimpsed moon ‘Charon’ tidal connected 19.000 miles away.  Four years later encountered rock ‘Arrokoth’ on the way to our planetary boundary.  How boffins found that tiny rock at 4 billion miles away?  Well mighty Hubble clocked it.  Chalk that up!  Composed with two lobes (Ultima and Thule) necking embraced forever.  Example of how Bots operate when humans cannot be in the picture.  Forget about us stepping off Pluto’s ladder, unless know how Seth son of Adam and Eve lived over 900 years.  We face reality of three score and ten, with bonus.  Old folk do live on cruise ships, one way star ticket take advantage have entertaining stops at planets/moons along the way.   Space cruise-Ship staffed by Bots, no return tickets on sale. 

 

To make hay need Sun Shine.

Smart Bots might switch us off.

Know that happens with vanquished.

Dinosaurs, Mammoths off dancing someplace.

Sensing our demise from drained, tired Earth.

 

Out there interact with Robot kin.

Realize they will know our purpose.

Oh they’ll have power of Kings.

What they can do, but not in our name.

 

Mars Hope!

Early fifties exciting reporting, convincing drawings even if obtained from blurry telescope observations.  We believed ‘Canals on Mars’, seasonal foliage changes observed!  No doubt!  Planet’s canals, like Royal and Grand!  Kindred spirits!  Mariner 4 flyby (1965) expected ‘HELLO’ carved in sand.  Beholden reality, craters like bone dry moon.  Crushed by flybys devasting disappointment.

 

No Martians exist.

Only imagination.

Damn fifties telescopes.

What were they seeing?

 

Since watched scenes in colour from amazing Rovers, rocky waste land on any life would struggle.  Put yourself on the Red planet hostile out there, only sending ironclad Bot motors.   Performed Roman work, so enlightened us.   No one of us wants to follow that trajectory.  Helicopter ‘Ingenuity’ flew 72 flights in Mars micro-thin atmosphere (2021), what you’d breathe up 22 miles of our air.  Mars’ atmosphere insufficient blocking cosmic rays, DNA mutations cause damage million ways.   We’d be baked toast with nine month trip to get there.  Planetary travellers having bodies filled with trillions of cells, DNA mutations succumb to many terminations.  Need prepare shielding for thick hides, from those hazards!  

 

Planet wide dust storms, then no sky at night,

no grand cities, no fields of barley.

No surface water, thin, thin atmosphere.

Nowt what we need!

Fed up seeing yet more craters.

No ploughed fields.

Final nail, no other place for us.

For duration confined,

it’s Bot’s world after all.

We alone only Earth can protect!

Stray beyond? No chance.

Out on your tod.  Buddy boys.

 

Only uninviting Mars offers scant hope.

Of any ‘safe haven’ from here.

(I’d nay fancy it in my life)

Maybe find there a cave to squat in.

Think on bright side no monsters.

With time to contemplate.

‘What on earth was I thinking?’

 

Future

Our airborne pilots increasingly observe UFO maneuvers, we’d not withstand velocity with extreme gravity changes.  Such ‘UFO visitors’ are robots, may seek to harmonise development of our Bots.  

 

Now UFO’s getting spotted all about,

focus nuclear power not fields of green,

little interest in biology.

Rubicon crossed?

When Bots are creating themselves.

Then it’s good-night Mama.

Ginormous nuclear power plants.

Decrease O2 so we all expire.

Leave enough O2 for ocean creatures.

Good for healthy sea.

 

No planetary neighbourhood to sustain us, unless laden down by oxygen pipes and helmets.  Race then between terraforming Mars/Venus before these Bots take over.  They have no urgent requirement for such palaver.   Maybe they try some small tinkering, to prevent big storms blowing them over.

 

Solar system exploration not for us,

Earthlings not fit space sailors.

That boat sailed and then stalled.

 

When Bots ascend need us tag along?

Just one caveat.

Under the gun we can be real smarty pants.

Being first among all earth’s creatures.

Each of us Gold medal winners.

That was a tough hill to climb.

Don’t throw our futures overboard!

 

Heavenly Stars

Humans will never feel heat of distant stars.

 

In 2020, signal detected by Australian telescope from Proxima Centauri.  Perhaps tell us how to get there to exoplanet Proxima B.  When rockets head there no humans on board, settle for long distance relationship.  Maybe meet half way.  Proxima Centauri is 4.24 light years away, that’s 81,000 years trip at current speeds.  Now significant plans to travel speedier, using gram scale Bots, hustled along by laser power at 20% speed of light, photons swarm the target sail.  Same process proposed as catch up with mysterious interstellar visitor Oumuamua.  Fascinating!

 

Bots travel down worm hole possible tunnel to the stars?

 

Our Physics say ‘Yes’, or ‘Maybe’.

That few understand.

Buckle up rough and tumble ride.

Short cut to Andromeda.

2.5 million light years away,

as space crow flies.

Only Bots survive, then return?

Call as soon as arrival!

Humans not get past starting post.

Confusing time dilations,

return eons from now.

Not sounding good.

Did time travelers arrive here?

 

Favourite Voyager 1, ~15 billion miles distant, launched in 1977, still granting replies.  As is our wont to dispatch Bots by millions, plunder all abouts.  Target metal asteroid ‘Psyche’, we’ve launched will arrive 2029.  Grunt work, danger enveloped, out getting it done, staying awake starry night and day.  Mining rich Psyche would transform all lives.

Here’s a paradox, how come if ‘Psyche’ so valuable, still available for us to grab?

 

Wherever we find ourselves,

any place out there we’d not hack it.

Sooner or later,

only desperate search for shortest road home.

Reckon in time they’ll seek rewards.

Better hand it to them.

 

Remember we took them there,

from infancy,

had to go make them curious. 

 

 

‘Origin of Species’, Second Time!

Like or not heading down roads.  Not Charlie D’s turtles, now double-quick under our nose.  As we lot first emerged, hammering flint, making arrows, blades to cut meat, nothing natural from previous convoluted times.  How then we crafted great futures.  In time might surrender to Bots.

Let them throw us a bone as useful servants.  Perhaps carry on as ‘Easter Island’ think tank, isolated from thriving prosperous Galaxy.  Well represented by Bots.  Sequestered on this planet and lavish our brainy crop with golden resources.  So long as useful.  Our labour to churn out valuable ideas.  A last Hope.  Otherwise?   

 

Oh Kumbya!

Find something exciting to show visitors.

 

In time their message.

“No cigar Biology Beings.

Youse had great run.

We have jump on you!

We will be changing atmosphere,

depleted air for those perilous lungs!

Hustle now obsolete you from here!

New world dawning for us.

We’ll take over now.

Keep lights on.

We observe everything.”

 

We’d counter!

 

Don’t underestimate us nor be hasty.

Rare commodity always needed.

Not be high and mighty, still hold hands?

You inherited our smarts.

Weak or strong we as family,.

Need infuse Bots with emotions,

Our coding error so far.

 

Run by Bots from all over Galaxy.

Those times coming controlled by machines.

We’ll remain in this bowl with fishes.

That’s our place.

Now.