Shepley – Old English name meaning meadow of sheep.
Questioning humanity. Do
people have some sort of superior ownership on life, on living? Androids
could be envisioned to be like us, dream
like us; have flaws like us; the best of
us, the worst of us. Our bodies are all run by electric
currents. Our memories, intangible. Like sheep
we follow. Like sheep
things to each other, like sending electric
volts into brains in the name of a cure. We regard each other like robots, androids,
automatons. Minds numb, no thoughts of
different–ness, which is only embraced in a dream.
of the future, my children grown; of sheep
with no grass, only chemically processed dirt to eat; of
muted blue–grey skies, like a cat sees the world. Do
you know if you could be sure I was not one of those androids,
one of those false electric
beings? Would you clone me, if you could? My eyes would be electric,
fervor searing for you, for us. “If two people dream
the same dream it ceases to be an illusion,” Dick says. Androids
we are not hallucinations. We have consensus gentium. We do
not suffer idios kosmos. “We are beginning to see the plastic,” he says, of
the koinos kosmos, of
the distorted sameness. Replicant or not, does it matter? Electric
skies, bright static, illuminated lightning. They do
not reveal the secrets of our shared dream
or our nightmares, or those of the sheep
in the field. So why not androids?
Why not build androids
to help us be free of
the tasks that kill us like sheep
in line for a summer slaughter. Like electric-
ity lights up a bulb, it is not just a dream.
It is tangible real-ness. Reality? I do not know. But it is what we must think to do.
You and I are lonely sheep in a flock, repeating androids buzzing. Stillness in our motion, going through life do-ing what is expected of us. Let us now have
electric dreams to brighten how we build our future – for us all – to live without fences.