Once upon a time, many ages ago, a race of Octopodes spread far and wide across the ocean. They expanded their reach not through the length or strength of their tentacles but by the brightness of their mind, for these Octopodes were the most gifted of all creatures beneath the waves, and neither fish nor whale could match them in wits.
One tribe, a stock exposed to the grueling and savage waters of the North Sea, grew even cleverer than the rest. These Octopodes banded together in a vast Kingdom where they made machines, powered by thermal energy from the ocean floor, to work for them. They built great cities made of reef and coral, where surface-scrapers stretched from the deepest and darkest trenches to the edge of the known world. They conquered North and South, East and West, and spread their molluscan monarchy over the globe. All marine life, and all other Octopodes, were cast down to become their chattel or cattle.
Like many of their kind, though, these Octopodes were semelparous – meaning their females reproduced once and died immediately postpartum. Few rejoiced at this fate, but even fewer questioned it: it was the way of life and the way things had always been and the order which the God of the Sea had set. Besides that, the female Octopodes were weaker and smaller than their male counterparts, and altogether dependent on them. Much like the water in which they swam, they never really gave it any thought.
However, one day, when the opulent and powerful Kingdom had reached a new height of opulence and power, the female Octopodes petitioned the King for redress. Many social issues had been solved through careful statecraft, they argued, yet there still remained the question of just compensation for semelparity. Surely the female Octopodes deserved greater recognition and freedom for this ardous service which they had rendered? A little equality, that could not be too much to ask given their contribution? The King was a reasonable octopus, and every reform proposed was backed by arguments founded on well-recognized principles of justice. He therefore gave his consent. Year by year the Octopodettes were emancipated from every social constraint that had once bound them and from every aspect of what they once were; and the Kingdom and its treasury became more of a husband to them than their own husbands ever were or could ever be.
Gradually and subtly, in a shift that caught many off-guard, the female Octopodes in the Kingdom stopped reproducing. ‘Why,’ they replied when questioned by dismayed suitors, ‘should we bear forth children in sorrow and pain? Would you if you were us? We are free now to choose our own fate. Who are you to question our choice?”
Some of the more simple-minded Octopodes were alarmed by this sentiment. ‘Shouldn’t we do something?’ they asked the King when he held court. ‘Clearly something has gone awry. At this rate, we’re headed for extinction!’ The King was unnerved by this warning, but his most elite Octopode experts, advisers whom he had come to hold in the highest of regards, were of a different mind.
‘That’s absurd!’ they rejoined. ‘It’s evidently impossible for a species to drive itself extinct through non-reproduction: the laws of evolution and demography forbid it. Our population might shrink for now, but in the long run the most fertile female Octopodes will outbreed their barren sisters. The daughters and sons of the fecund will then issue forth as a new generation of Octopodes more fertile than any before it. The future is bright!’
The supreme Octopode thinkers were, of course, quite right. There were indeed many Octopode children still born – born to the most insipid and least conscientious mothers, the select few so feeble in mind or lacking in impulse control that the prevention of their own misery was too challenging an intellectual goal. In a generation or two this subset swelled its numbers beyond count, overwhelming whatever elderly remnants of the smarter Octopode stock remained. The Kingdom, with its splendorous cities and meticulous order and marvelous technology, all of which had taken many centuries of effort to build, was lost to ignorance in three or four short decades; and the Age of the Octopodes came crashing down.
–
The descendants of these eight-armed overlords still roam the depths. They live much as any other marine animal, eking out a living as best they can. If you glimpse them from a distance it is exceedingly hard to tell them apart from any other mollusc. Yet look closely and you can spot a keen glint in their squinting eyes, like a spark of truth from a tale long lost – a spark in remembrance of a realm that once was.
Hence, I say
यः धर्मम् परित्यज्य श्रिसुखम्हितेच्छय स दुःखं गच्छेत् न संशयः अष्तबहुभर्तामुढयथा
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Notes -
Meh. Lovecraft did it better. 0HP Lovecraft also did it better.
There’s not even an obvious connection between giving
womenoctopus the vote and, uh, erasing all social constraints. You just sort of import the talking point.Then when everything goes to shit, it’s taken for granted that preserving the
whiteNorth Sea race is totally worth killing thewomenfemales. Why? Is the right to life, to self-determination, actually worth less than the need to control future generations?3/10, maybe stick to reporting on your hobbyhorse.
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