and let's go home.Despite glowing reviews from critics, HBO’s adaptation of Watchmen is proving to be divisive among some comic book fans. For you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly. As if new, it may still take our breath away.

Yet seen from the another's vantage point. We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Anybody in the world.But the world is so full of people, so crowded with these miracles that they become commonplace and we forget. I mean, you could say that about anybody in the world!. The thermodynamic miracle.īut.if me, my birth, if that's a thermodynamic miracle. To distill so specific a form from that chaos of improbability, like turning air to gold. Until your mother loves a man she has every reason to hate, and of that union, of the thousand million children competing for fertilization, it was you, only you, that emerged. Multiply those odds by countless generations, against the odds of your ancestors being alive meeting siring this precise son that exact daughter.

I long to observe such a thing.Īnd yet, in each human coupling, a thousand million sperm vie for a single egg. events with odds against so astronomical they're effectively impossible, like oxygen spontaneously becoming gold. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world.ĭoes that answer your Questions, Doctor?”

The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces.

No meaning save what we choose to impose. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. There is nothing else.Įxistence is random. Born from oblivion bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent.

Watchmen by alan moore