Snippets
BOOK 3/2, shaping
snippet 6
11/12 November
The town planners and Alice talked a little longer because Mika, the head of the Berlin Team, was late for her appointment.
Mika brought a loaf of chewy wholegrain bread and quark with linseed oil and chive, a kind of sour cream. ‘I baked the bread, and I mixed the quark, as a parting gift. The bread is still warm. I brought a breadboard and a knife.’
Alice smiled broadly, and they each had a thickly spread slice of deliciously warm bread while discussing the Berlin Team’s central role in connecting the project to Europe, both with respect to the project businesses and regarding the future town.
‘Or towns,’ Mika said. ‘I admit I was a bit sceptical about building a single town. It sounded like one of these prestigious projects that are just for a select few and have no connection to the real world—’ Mika chuckled, seeing Alice’s raised eyebrows. ‘I know. The real world doesn’t exist. Everything around us is invented. Except the ingenious natural world. Which reminds me: Could it be that humanity simply went through puberty over the last millennia, and that’s why humans rejected nature’s perfections and had to do everything better than their original parent?’
Alice laughed. ‘That’s a thought!’
Mika grinned. ‘What I wanted to say is, a single town felt cheesy, but a whole network of towns, towns in different countries, each with their own focus and purpose, each a piece of unique art, each perfect for their kinds of people, each a breathing, living organism which keeps evolving — now, that’s something I could talk about for weeks.
© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping
snippet 7
26/27 November
‘You might have a point. But you should phrase this carefully or it could easily go sideways.’
Alice chuckled. ‘Maybe it helps to add another question that’s been on my mind — as a kind of counterweight. Because I’ve been wondering why humans have so much sex?’
Any shook his head, laughing. ‘A counterweight, indeed. Go ahead.’
Alice smiled. ‘Why do humans have so much sex? Could thinking have something to do with it?’
‘Thinking? Sex and thinking? How do these two go together?’
‘Think about it,’ Alice returned, chuckling. ‘Allegedly animals follow some kind of annual routine: eat a lot in summer, rest in winter, travel, find food and a mate, mate, have kids, teach the kids, repeat: eat a lot in summer, rest in winter and so on. But as far as I know, animals don’t have sex all the time. And they don’t rub themselves. And how would a cow or a hen do that anyway?’
‘Hm.’
‘It would be interesting to find out whether apes pleasure themselves. Don’t dogs and cats lick their genitals? Is that a pleasure thing?’
‘Hm.’
‘We know for sure that humans have sex for pleasure. But why?’
‘Because humans think?’
‘That’s what I’ve been wondering about. The pre-humans followed one of these living-creatures routines, I guess, probably until they became more aware of what they were doing. I mean, imagine a cow started to think, and one day after mating, a bull thinks: boy that was fantastic! I wish I could stay up here a little longer, keep my legs wrapped around her wonderfully fury body. Oh, I miss her already.’
Any laughed.
‘That’s thinking which overrules the usual routine and opens the door to repetition. Advances in communication might also have played a role because language allowed people to express their desire for more sex. But who knows? Maybe more sex happened accidentally. Two humans had extra sex and thought: Wow, we should keep doing this.’
Any grinned. ‘And then some other humans got nervous about all the humping, and they put an end to it by inventing marriage?’
Alice laughed. ‘Yes! And then they saw someone pleasure themselves and invented the devil to put an end to that, too. It’s strange — all of it: that humans tend to have more sex than necessary, that humans tend to like to pleasure themselves, that they have sex when having children isn’t even remotely on their minds, that they objectify attractive people, that they pervert something as natural as sex, that they get nervous and paranoid about their sexual activities and all the other weird, harmful, incomprehensible and occasionally beautiful and extremely satisfying human sexual excrescences.’
Any smiled, shaking his head. ‘It’s fascinating to see you puzzle over something. And where did you pick up excrescences?’
Alice grinned. ‘In the dictionary. Not sure I’ll remember it for long. We’re still a bit shy with each other.’
Any laughed. ‘But tell me, why is it important that humans have sex for pleasure, or that they have more than an annual mating appointment?’
‘I don’t know. But I intend to find out. It might be relevant for Raha’s research. The mind plays a major part in our sexual decisions and in the act itself. All our sexual screw-ups happen there, too. Finding out why sex became so ubiquitous in humans and has led to so many damaging excrescences, might help us to evolve into a species which can enjoy physicality and reap all its benefits while freeing itself from all the sick behaviours that destroy the connections we could otherwise enjoy.’
Any smiled. ‘You’re right, it is interesting. But tell me, what brings you to me on a Saturday afternoon?’
Alice’s smile disappeared and she exhaled noisily. ‘Gloom, panic, uncertainty. All the What-ifs.’
Any nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about those, too.’
Alice shook her head. ‘The Monday after the farewell party, we all sort of woke up — with a major hangover, the hangover from weeks of enthusiasm, creating and discovering. And the hangover said: “Boo! No matter how brilliant you are, no matter how much money you have, if you want to stay true to your principles, then this is the end of the road.’
‘No!’ Any returned. ‘You are too stubborn for something like the end of the road.
© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping
snippet 8
2 December
‘Ooh, here is an interesting remark by the Psychology Team,’ Alice said and read aloud: ‘“We all feel lost at times and like we don’t belong. This seems to be a common human condition. The question is why? Because, while it is a common condition, it doesn’t seem to be natural. Can we find out why feeling lost happens and whether we, as a town, can find a natural state of belonging?”’
‘That’s big,’ Andy said thoughtfully.
Alice nodded. ‘Lost. Belonging. I keep coming back to stories. What if the stories early humans invented with their developing brains got things wrong, and that’s why humans lost their natural connections — with themselves, with each other and with their habitat?’
Andy nodded. ‘And since no one challenged the stories and humans constantly reproduce them, we are still disconnected.’
‘Could we find the kind of stories which allow us to reconnect?’
‘And not be lost any more?’
‘Yes.’
Andy smiled a little. ‘It’s worth a try.’
‘And it’s all in our minds. The mess we’re in and the ways out of it.’
‘Now, I wish we had something to drink. I’d love to raise my glass to that.’
‘I almost brought a bottle of wine.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I wasn’t sure it would do any good — if you were angry at me.’
Andy sighed. ‘I love you, Alice. And I don’t mind saying it. I’m so glad you’re back. And I’m glad you didn’t bring the wine because right now I want to get drunk.’
Alice smiled. ‘Funny enough, me too. Let’s jump back into work before—’
‘—we get too sentimental?’
‘Yes. But I’m glad we’re back.’
‘Me too.’
Some time later, Alice smiled. ‘Look at this. The Society Team suggests an experiment where we forego competition for a period of time and see how this affects us.’
‘That should be fun.’ Andy said.
© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping
snippet 9
14-16 December
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© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping
snippet 10
24 December
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© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping
snippet 11
28 December
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© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping
snippet 12
6 January
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© Charlie Alice Raya, book 3/2, shaping