Shepley

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

we do

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.

I 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

or sheep,

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.

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