P. 257 of "There Will Come Soft Rains," Ray Bradbury 4 🌟
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Sara Teasdale, 1918
P. 278 Eastward Ho, William Tenn 5 🌟
Palefaces are treated the same way they treated Indians, by the Indian tribes that are now the rulers of the United States. Lol
P. 295 The Feast of Saint Janis, Michael Swanwyck, 4 🌟
The shithole 3rd-world country that the United States is, now, and in this story, needs an icon to get the rabble roused enough to make as many babies as possible, in the hopes that a few of them won't have mutations, and will make it out of the delivery room. Americans only live to ~42, so every year a new Janis Joplin Is engineered to rouse up the peasants.
P. 374 My Life in the Jungle, Jim Aiken, 4 🌟
A metaphor for human overpopulation and the destruction of our planet.