Sunday Report (1) with Blob the Marsporter

The single Homo Sapiens specie is accountable to more diversity than any of the remaining million species of the planet combined together.

My first observation was that humans are in a hurry. They need machines to save their time. But the creators of these machines fell in love with their creation and transferred all their abilities to them. Now their creation controls them with puppet strings. Humans know this, but find it too late to reverse.

Their architecture is impressive. They have far exceeded the days of mud and straw. But every tower I see seems to have something in common. They're all trying to be higher than the previous ones. They're all racing for the end of the skyline; wonder how many still have contact with the ground. There seems to be a concept that bigger is better.

Inventions renowned today will be overrun by their better models tomorrow. Perfection becomes insufficient all over again.

Most Humans struggle to look attractive. Very few remain beautiful. Wonder why they took the trouble. They looked just fine to me.

Many shout, few speak. Many listen, few comprehend.

All are at war. Against disease, a natural disaster, temptation, a threat to a possession or opinion, plain intolerance of another's existence, or just fighting for peace itself. These battles don’t stop. It would be a waste of skill and weaponry. According to some, purpose. Earth is the leading battlefield of this cosmos.

They have labelled everything into classes, putting things under microscopes, watching things through telescopes.

Wonder if they knew some day they'd be the specimen under the glass slide.