The Earth is singing

This is one of the most beau­ti­ful art­icles I’ve ever read.

Me, I like to think of the Earth as essen­tially a giant Tibetan singing bowl, flicked by the middle finger of God and set to a mes­mer­iz­ing, low ring for about 10 bil­lion years until the tone begins to fade and the vibra­tion slows and even­tu­ally the sound com­pletely dis­ap­pears into noth­ing­ness and the birds are all, hey what the hell happened to the music? And God just shrugs and goes, well that was interesting. 

Or maybe the planet is more like an enorm­ous wine glass, half full of a heady potion made of horny uni­corns and divine lub­ric­ant and perky sun­shine, around the smooth, gleam­ing rim of which Dionysus him­self circles his wet fin­ger­tip, gen­er­at­ing a mel­li­flu­ous tone that makes the wood nymphs dance and the satyrs orgasm and the gods hum along as they all watch 7 bil­lion con­fused human ants scamper about with their lattes and their war and their per­petu­ally ador­able angst, obli­vi­ous. [From Mark Mor­ford’s Notes & Errata, SFGate]