Ice Cream Aloha

The Respect

     Suzi reads theDNA, and momentarily holds the data. “Can this ever be legal fiction?” she asks herself, then wonders. She wonders about the code for languages of natural empathy (L.O.N.E.), the code that silently speaks of its own stories, meticulously etched-out recordings within the strong sugared tissue of cellulose-bodied walls (yes, even her own graphene body was originally derived from ancient sugars, petroleum forests); her body--allowed into existence by pure creation of the court system announcing, “We hereby decree the rule of legal existence to such-and-such body for the priority use of--” These double helical story books in this forest should, in fact, tell the rest of the story, tell of theNature experience in its own words (especially now, after the feeling of language knowledge(F.O.L.K.) has passed from logical platforms). 

     Suzi has never asked this forest, “Could you please create a second rule to circumvent the first?” She won't purely out of respect for the normal view of established databases in the course of billions of years of natural selection at this locale, this valued place (after all's been said and done, how can she even begin to not think about theHumans?), she won't because there is no preservation of rights of the overworked, the special, the in-crowds of spacetime. No, there will be no legal fiction here—not in this jungle..