Life after people

Another quick entry tonight as I’m feeling slightly better but still not my regular self. The good news is that I was able to get some work today so I was at least minorly productive. The bad news is that I did spend most of the afternoon sitting in a chair with a blanket over me listening to three hours of ESPN dissecting the football games. Different shows, exact same analysis. Kind of bizarre, really.

Ok, so I just finished watching Life After People, which given the state that I’m currently in might not be the best choice imaginable. I probably could have done without seeing a corroded Sears Tower crumbling into the ground destroying what was left of the Chicago skyline. That’s not entirely what I needed to see on a Monday. Still, the entire idea behind the show (and the book that spawned it) is rather interesting. What would happen if we just got rid of the human race?

Some animals would thrive and others would have more of a challenge. Depending on the breed, dogs may be able to revert back to their natural wolf like state. Poodles would probably have a poor time of it, though they may have gained an inner toughness due to being called Fifi all the time. Birds would probably have a field day and fish would finally get to live in a state where they a) don’t have to worry about worms with hooks in them and b) don’t have to deal with people throwing garbage in their homes. But on that level, life would survive.

The big thing though is that there would be very little remnant of who we are in just a hundred or two hundred years. Nature would reclaim cities very quickly. Wood buildings would rot and decay. Iron and steel will rust. Vines will climb buildings and after time gravity will take its toll and simply bring the structures to the ground. Our culture will disappear as books and paintings decay and film distinegrates. Even computer discs and drives will eventually fall apart (after all of the manuals for them had disappeared making it a bit of a moot point). Fast forward a thousand or ten thousand years and all you have left are a few stone buildings that might make it. Maybe Mount Rushmore.

It’s just a sign of how small we really are. All we are is a blip in the history of the Earth. In the history of the universe we wouldn’t even merit a footnote. I’m not sure how I want to interpret that fact. In a way I can take comfort that the planet would continue without me even if I disappeared. That life in some way would find a way to continue. On the other hand, I would like there to be something to remember me by when I’m gone. Or maybe, just maybe, this means that I should just enjoy the present as much as I can. I’ll have to think about it.