Li Bai and the Abominable Prague Machine

In which two Tang-era Chinese poets discuss the end of civilization and Tesla's stock price

DU FU: A beautiful night!

LI BAI: Perfectly clear. Can you see the Plough?

DU: Over there, low on the horizon. And isn’t that Orion? But you didn’t invite me here to do astronomy. What is this… contraption?

He points at something like a high-tech barrel organ.

LI: Keep looking up. Do you see anything else?

DU: There’s… wait. Some of the stars are moving! There’s a whole row of them, then another… they’re forming a kind of T shape.

LI: That is the clue.

DU: They’re satellites. Oh, they’re Elon Musk’s Starlink! And they’re advertising Tesla. Good Lord, there are hundreds of them. A row of figures… four… twenty… sixty-nine. What does that mean?

LI: The share price, I expect. Would you hold this scrap of paper and this matchbox?

DU: They’re taking over half the sky. A shame for stargazers! But how inspiring — to bring cheap satellite internet to remote places all over the world. Even hamlets like this one, where you’ve buried yourself for five years… I expect the locals are looking forward to their connection!

LI: Certainly. Their grandfathers had nothing to do at night but get drunk and look up at the sky. Now they will have a galaxy of interactive entertainment! Could you read what’s on the paper?

DU: It’s too dark to make out.

LI: Strike a match to read by.

DU: “Hocus… pocus… allegorum magorum… Madonna Cabbalistica borax infernalis?” What is this thing?

LI: I picked it up in Hackney Wick market, from a chap in a pine-marten hat. He mixes two bottles of liquid. Drink?

DU: Is this some kind of ritual?

LI: It’s the execrable local hooch. To our success!… Don’t drop the match. Yes, Elon Musk. Quite a guy. Billions of people brought online!

DU: It’ll expand human communication like never before. We’ll finally reach our potential.

LI: Right. In the age of papyrus, we had the Book of Job. In the age of the printing press, Shakespeare and John Bunyan. The steam press gave us the Daily Mail. The radio, Hitler. The internet has gifted us with Twitter.

DU: Are you being sarcastic? … I should have known.

LI: But that was only the most intelligent half of the planet. Now, absolutely anyone anywhere will be able to tell everyone anything! What wonders await!

DU: You misanthrope! It’s so typical that you only see the downside.

LI: You’re right. And what is the downside? A few eccentrics and weirdos won’t be able to see the stars. The people here have looked up at the stars for two thousand years, and what have they learnt from it? Nothing but breeding sheepdogs, drinking, and beating their wives. But now… now they can tweet.

DU: At last they will be connected to civilization! Saved from the idiocy of rural life!

LI: The global village needs idiots too.

DU: Even in these hills, they’ll be able to listen to the most brilliant lecturers, watch the greatest actors, the wittiest comedians. They’ll be in touch with the cleverest people on earth….

LI: … who will exert all their brainpower to make themselves stupid, so they can connect with their audience.

DU: You must admit they’ll be better off than by candlelight in their miserable huts.

LI: Looking up at the miserable stars…. Talking of which, light these candles, please.

DU: Even in this hinterland, some child with a spark of genius may be born! What are you doing? Is that a Menorah?

LI: And instead of scanning the heavens, he’ll take an online course in financial analysis. Maybe he can buy calls on Tesla. Now!

He lights a paper from the menorah and throws a switch. They are bathed in a fizzing red light. He cranks furiously at a handle.

DU: What is this machine?

LI: An original invention of Rabbi Loew of Prague. The same who created the Golem! Read this!

DU: “Lorem ipsum dolipsiscur dixit Simon carpetrite Aleph Bet….” I can’t make it out.

LI: Lorem̴̢̨̗̺̬̙̘͕̫̩̅̏̐̈̈̿͛̉̎ ipsu̶̬͔̻̗͎͕̟̩̬̻̘͙̯̹͇͐̈̍͜͜͜ m d̶̛̻̣͖̺̻͗͛̂͊͂͘̚̚̚olipś̴̗̩͕̤̚is̷̖͍̰͍̤͑̽́̊͆̇͜ͅcur ̸̨̡̻̲̳̣̈́͒̎̐d̴̜̩͔̩̫̃̇̀ixit̶̨͔͚̥͖̆̍̐̈́̈́͘ͅ ̵̨̲͇̋͛̇̃̄̈́̑͝ SIMONCAR PETRITE א‎ב‎ …

DU: The machine is humming… thousands of these satellites… all over the sky…. ‎You’re ou̓̎̎́t̷̡̧̡̡̳͖͖̭̫͕̥͓̳̳̺̭ of your min̔̃̎̑̇̓͘͜͝͠d̸͎̖͚̫̯͕̗͉̰̞͚̣͍̱̊͆́̈̐̐͑̈́͆̃̈́̐!́̿̏͊̾͒̏͊̉͘̚͘͝ S̶o̵m̸e̸t̴h̶i̶n̶g̵’̶s̸ ̴h̵a̴p̶p̶e̵n̸i̴n̵g̸…̴.̵

LI: איןחניה

אסור לעשן

?איפה השירותים

שתי בירות, בבקשה

!!!TTOƆƧ TAƎЯӘ :UD

!dɘnϱilɒ ƨi ƨoɿoboɿυO ɘʜT :I⅃

בת המצווה של תמר תתקיים בשבת הבאה :I⅃

A fiery ray shoots from the machine to the sky.

!ɘnɒƨni ɘɿ’υoY :UD

Y̷̨̪̖̩͔̙̟̙̜̮̮̭̣̪̮̩̞̪͇̼̠̊͑̆̔̽̑̎̈́̑͊̆̓̓̓̐̽ǫ̵̧̧̛͎̲̼̠̥̳͖̩̞̰͖̻̠̳͖̰̻̙̭̩̏͒͋͐̑̊̐͛̇́̃̈́͊̿̑̇͗̒̑̌͒̀̈́̾̊͂̅̿̃́̆́̅̕͘͠͝͝ͅú̶̢̧̨̢̨̡̨͖̮̮̞͎͍̹͙̳̥̩͍̞̞̝̳̤̱͙͎̮͙̞̗̥̬̲͖̃̉́̏̄͒̄̎̽̓̎̚͜͝ c̴̦̾á̸̙̙̖̹̘̜̌ń̴͉͆͌̓̊͌̈́’̸̧͙̹̦̯̐ͅt̵͕̥͎̖̔̓́̏ ̵̫̬̰̭̅h̴̺̲̜͉͎̘̭̀͘o̸̡͗͝ḽ̶̝̣͍͎͜͝ḑ̵͈͇̭̣͛͌̔͆̚͘̕ b̷̞̍ȃ̵͚c̴̗͒k̴̲̽ p̶r̴o̸g̶r̴e̷s̷s̸ with this m̴e̷d̴i̷eval claptr̴a̷p!

LI: I can try.

The light dies down.

DU: Ah… thank God, we’re back to normal. But there are hundreds of these satellites. And you’ve knocked out just one!… the bottom of the T.

LI: Yes, yes… and unfortunately, some of Simon Magus’ manuscripts must be consumed during the firing sequence. I only have enough to power the Kabbalistic Laser for one more minute.

DU: Look, the share price has gone down! The market is reacting to your proof of concept! 419… 418… no wait, it’s going back up.

LI: Always does.

DU: As I told you. Your plan is simply irrational. Can’t you accept the loss of the stars as the price of progress?

LI: Never! But I have a backup plan. One that Mr Musk will find much more acceptable. You know his pinned tweet?

DU: “We must pass the Great Filter.”

LI: Correct. The Great Filter — whatever unknown force is killing alien civilizations before they are able to communicate with us. Perhaps climate breakdown, nuclear war… perhaps just an outbreak of planetary stupidity…. The second and final firing of the Kabbalistic Laser will take aim at Luyten’s Star. The beam will arrive in just over twelve years.

DU: Lutyen’s Star, home of Lutyen B… the most earth-like planet… but surely, the laser is too weak to be a weapon at that scale?…

Good God! You’re going to send a message! You will penetrate the Great Filter! What an astonishing moment! Interstellar communication for the first time! What will you send through the vast cosmic void, from species to faraway species?

LI: The first part of the message will set up a complex self-unfolding language, based on high-dimensional representations of Pythagorean solids, encoded in novasexagentesimal. Once their mathematicians have decrypted it, they’ll be able to understand any subsequent communication, no matter what their language.

DU: Just like in the Dark Forest trilogy! And the second part? … Let me guess—

LI: NO INTELLIGENT LIFE REMAINS. SEND COLONISTS AT ONCE.

He belches and tosses his glass down the hillside.

Come, let’s return to my hut.

If you liked this, I am writing a book. You might want to check it out.