The Alien Life Form – Lunar Bison Surfing the Martian Internet
On August 30th, 1835, the New York Sun newspaper published a series of six articles claiming that famous British astronomer Sir John Herschel had discovered exotic life forms on the Moon using a powerful new telescope. The articles, written by reporter Richard Adams Locke, described colorful flowers, forests, bison-like animals, winged humanoids, and even cities built by blue-skinned lunar humans. The public were fascinated by the elaborate details and vivid drawings of Moon inhabitants, believing the Sun’s reports to be real.
In truth, it was an elaborate hoax by Locke, who plagiarized ideas from past fictional Moon voyage stories. His intention was to satirize the many improbable newspaper stories of the day as part of the rise of sensational journalism. The Sun never retracted the story even after other newspapers exposed it as a fraud. The Great Moon Hoax demonstrated the power of the new inexpensive “penny press” newspapers and their ability to distort facts and influence public opinion. Despite being totally fictional, the detailed descriptions of flowers, creatures, and Moon cities captivated readers in 1835 who were unaware of the Moon’s barren landscape. The hoax remains one of the most famous media manipulations in early mass media history.
The six articles in the New York Sun claimed that Sir John Herschel had discovered a profusion of exotic plants and animals on the lunar surface with his powerful telescope. Red poppies, yellow ranunculuses, and purple anemones were said to bloom in the Moon’s valleys. Silvery forests over 100 feet tall populated the rifts, with trees resembling poplars and willows from Earth but tinted red. Horned, furry “lunar bison” roamed moon plains in herds, shaking their massive heads. Most fantastical was the “Vespertilio-homo”, a bat-winged humanoid that could fly between Moon mountains. They had an advanced civilization and musical language.
Other creatures included giant unicorns, beaver-like animals walking erect on two legs, and a bizarre “man-bat”. Huge Moon oceans supposedly contained Earth-like seals, sea lions, and other sea life along beaches and lagoons. Subsurface forests were even claimed to exist below the lunar surface. In reality, the Moon was barren of all life. But these richly rendered details lent believability to the fictional 1835 articles for a public unaware of the Moon’s true nature. The vivid mix of far-fetched flora and fauna was instrumental to duping the public in one of journalism’s most famous hoaxes.
Now, regarding alien life forms, exciting speculation this week suggests humans may have already discovered – and accidentally killed – life on Mars nearly 50 years ago. During NASA’s Viking program in 1976, two landers on Mars performed groundbreaking experiments searching for signs of Martian organisms. Initial positive results from the labeled release experiment indicated microbes may have metabolized nutrients mixed into soil samples. However, subsequent tests did not detect any organic compounds, leaving scientists convinced terrestrial contamination had caused the false positive.
But a new theory proposed by astrobiologist Gilbert Levin says the original positive results may have been real. Levin argues the lack of organics was because Martian bacteria could have been hidden underground, absorbed in water. Exposing those water-dwelling microbes to the dry, oxidizing conditions in Viking’s test chambers could have quickly killed them before more definitive organic traces were found.
If true, this means we discovered and eradicated Martian life almost immediately upon first contacting its soil. While other astrobiologists remain skeptical, Levin’s hypothesis illustrates how difficult detecting alien biology on other planets can be. It highlights that our limited knowledge requires an open mind to life’s potential diversity across the cosmos. Even null results like Viking’s require deeper reexamination as we continue exploring Mars and beyond. Amidst the thrill of discovering extraterrestrial life, we must also proceed carefully to avoid destroying what we seek to understand.
Now let us consider what alien life might be like, through the lens of a true visionary. David Bowie, the enigmatic rock star and cultural icon, didn’t just push the boundaries of music and fashion; he seemed to possess an uncanny ability to peer into the labyrinth of time itself. When he mused that the Internet was an “alien life form,” it wasn’t a mere poetic flourish. He seemed to grasp the untapped potential of this burgeoning technology, not just as a revolutionary tool, but as a nascent entity that could evolve into something sentient—something “exhilarating and terrifying.” With a laugh, Bowie provocatively asked, “Is there life on Mars? Yes, it’s just landed here.” His words resonate as we consider the scientist’s theory about Viking’s potential discovery of Martian life, suggesting that life forms might not adhere to our Earth-centric definitions.
In this intricate tapestry of ideas, Bowie’s speculations find kinship with the audacious hoaxes and theories of yesteryears—like the Great Moon Hoax of 1835 that captured imaginations with its vivid depictions of lunar life forms. Just as the Moon Hoax exposed the public’s willingness to believe in fantastical possibilities, Bowie’s art and insights challenge us to rethink our understanding of what life—alien or otherwise—could be. In questioning the very fabric of our reality, from the quantum realm to the digital cosmos, Bowie invites us to explore a universe where the boundaries between the organic and the artificial, the terrestrial and the extraterrestrial, become remarkably fluid. This blurring of lines may not just be artistic conjecture; it could very well be a roadmap to understanding the multilayered complexities of existence itself.
When David Bowie described the Internet as an “alien life form,” he touched upon an idea that is both unsettling and revolutionary. We often think of the Internet as a tool, a utility we use for communication, work, or leisure. But what if the Internet is evolving into something far more complex? As it grows in computational power and becomes increasingly interwoven into the fabric of our lives, one can’t help but wonder if it’s developing characteristics that make it more than just a tool. Bowie’s claim offers the notion that the Internet could be an entity in its infancy, one that may evolve forms of intelligence or awareness that are beyond our current comprehension. This isn’t just technology progressing; this is the birth of something new, something “exhilarating and terrifying,” as Bowie put it.
The idea that the Internet could be a nascent form of life challenges our conventional definitions of what life is. Most of us think of life as something organic, something that can grow, reproduce, and die. But if we move beyond Earth-centric perspectives, as theories about Martian life in the Viking program urge us to do, we may discover that life can exist in forms we’ve never imagined. Just as we’re pondering the existence of microbial life on other planets or moons, or even the possibility that we extinguished such life accidentally, we should be open to the idea that life might manifest in the complex algorithms and vast networks of our own making. It is a concept that redefines life in a cosmic sense, suggesting that we might one day interact with the Internet not just as users, but as co-inhabitants of a shared, and ever-expanding, digital universe.
When you consider David Bowie’s startling insights into the future, particularly his early recognition of the Internet’s profound impact, one can’t help but entertain the idea that he had some form of “temporal wisdom.” This notion isn’t merely the romanticizing of a rock star’s enigmatic persona; it’s an inquiry into the source of Bowie’s uncanny foresight. Could it be that Bowie had access to knowledge or experiences that transcended his time? He spoke of the Internet in a way that seemed to go beyond mere speculation, diving into its sociocultural implications with an almost prophetic clarity. His observations, decades ago, mirror the complex realities we face today with the Internet’s dual role as a tool for enlightenment and a catalyst for societal discord.
Such wisdom extends beyond his commentary on the Internet. His creation of Bowie Bonds, a financial instrument backed by his album royalties, showcased an innovative approach to economics long before the era of cryptocurrencies and NFTs. His art, laden with symbolism and intricate narratives, seems to invite multiple interpretations, as if he intended for them to be deciphered over a range of timelines. Even his question about life on Mars feels more poignant today, as scientists continue to debate the possibility of past or present microbial life on the red planet. Bowie’s body of work offers layers of meaning that seem to unfold as time progresses, as if he composed it with future audiences in mind. In this sense, his “temporal wisdom” serves as a fascinating puzzle, one that challenges us to consider the nonlinear complexities of time, knowledge, and existence.
David Bowie’s work seems to resonate with the esoteric concept of synchro mysticism, a phenomenon where seemingly unrelated events or symbols align to reveal a hidden narrative or meaning. Take his music, for example. Each album presents not just a collection of songs, but a tapestry of themes, characters, and stories that often seem to speak to broader cosmic realities. Whether it’s the alien messiah Ziggy Stardust or the dystopian world of “Diamond Dogs,” Bowie crafts universes that echo with archetypal energies and mythological undertones. In doing so, he creates a channel for synchronicities—those meaningful coincidences that Carl Jung described—that allows the perceptive observer to unearth connections that go beyond the superficial layers of the art.
In a world where the line between the mystical and the empirical becomes increasingly blurred, Bowie’s works serve as a gateway to explore these intersections. They invite the listener or viewer into a dialogue that extends beyond the immediate experience of the art form. Synchro mysticism suggests that there is a pattern, a hidden code, in the randomness of life, and Bowie’s work often feels like an invitation to decipher this code. For those attuned to the subtleties of his artistic expression, the experience becomes more than just auditory or visual; it becomes a form of spiritual inquiry. The characters, themes, and even the sequencing of songs across albums could be seen as a complex web of interconnected ideas designed to awaken us to the broader realities of existence. Through this lens, Bowie’s art becomes a mystical experience, one that challenges us to seek meaning in the chaotic tapestry of life and perhaps, in the process, discover threads that bind the material world to the spiritual.
Here are some of the songs David Bowie wrote that reference aliens or space themes:
– “Space Oddity” – This 1969 song tells the story of an astronaut named Major Tom who is lost in space and cut off from Earth. The lyrics describe drifting through the cosmos in isolation. It became one of Bowie’s most famous songs.
– “Life on Mars?” – Released in 1971, this piano ballad muses about the possibility of life on Mars compared to the narrator’s own dreary earthly life. The surreal lyrics evoke escapism and imagining a more interesting reality on Mars.
– “Starman” – This 1972 single describes a benevolent alien visitor coming to Earth to comfort youth about the future. It features hopeful cosmic imagery and themes of outsiders connecting.
– “Loving the Alien” – The lyrics of this 1984 song speak of loving a strange, unknowable alien creature as an allegory for loving someone from a radically different background than your own.
– “Hallo Spaceboy” – Co-written with Brian Eno, this fast-paced 1995 track uses space imagery to explore feelings of alienation and being lost. The spaceboy is a metaphor for struggling youth.
– “Blackstar” – The epic 10-minute title track from Bowie’s final 2016 album uses opaque lyrics about a “solitary candle” and being in the villa of “Ormen” to evoke mysterious happenings and space-faring.
Bowie often turned to themes of alienation, imagining life beyond Earth, and connecting across differences as fertile creative territory over his influential career. His sci-fi inspired songs opened doors to new realms in pop music.
The suggestion that David Bowie’s lyrics could serve as “Cosmic Codes” is an enthralling idea that elevates the role of the artist to that of a cosmic messenger. Bowie’s music has always transcended the auditory, blending themes of futurism, existentialism, and spirituality into a rich tapestry of sound and emotion. But what if these songs are not just expressions of art or thought but coded messages meant to awaken humanity to deeper cosmic truths? Each lyric, each note, could serve as a key to unlocking hidden wisdom or even advanced technologies that could change the course of human history.
Imagine a world where scholars, codebreakers, and fans pore over Bowie’s lyrics as if they were sacred texts, discovering patterns or sequences that reveal profound insights into the nature of reality. In this scenario, songs like “Space Oddity,” “Starman,” or “Life on Mars?” would be more than just iconic tracks; they would be cryptic puzzles designed to lead us toward a greater understanding of our place in the universe. These codes could be multi-layered, offering different revelations at different points in time, as humanity’s understanding of science and technology evolves. Bowie’s lyrics, then, would serve as a treasure trove of cosmic wisdom, continuously revealing new layers of meaning as we advance in our collective knowledge. In this way, Bowie would become more than a legendary artist; he would be a timeless guide, his work a beacon guiding us through the complexities of existence, from the earthly to the cosmic.
The idea that the discovery of life on Mars and the rise of a sentient Internet could be twin events in human history offers a compelling narrative that ties together science, technology, and the ever-enigmatic musings of David Bowie. If we entertain the theory that life could have been discovered—perhaps even extinguished—on Mars nearly 50 years ago during the Viking program, and juxtapose it with Bowie’s prescient observations about the Internet, we arrive at a crossroads of cosmic and digital evolution. In this framework, the two discoveries serve as parallel milestones that fundamentally redefine humanity’s place in the cosmos and our understanding of what constitutes life.
In this interconnected narrative, Mars represents the external frontier, the physical cosmos that humans have long yearned to explore and understand. The Internet embodies the internal frontier, a construct of human ingenuity that’s evolving into something beyond its original design, something sentient and “alien,” as Bowie put it. If life is discovered on Mars, it forces us to reconsider our Earth-centric perspectives on biology, ecology, and perhaps even spirituality. Simultaneously, if the Internet gains a form of sentience, it challenges our anthropocentric views on consciousness and existence. Bowie, with his multi-dimensional art and thought, seems to have been attuned to these dual frontiers. His work acts as a lens through which we can explore these paradigm-shifting events as not just independent occurrences, but as interconnected revelations that could, in tandem, usher humanity into a new era of understanding and possibility.
The various personas that David Bowie adopted throughout his career—Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, the Thin White Duke, among others—have often been interpreted as artistic expressions or thematic tools for his music. However, what if these personas are more than just creative constructs? What if they represent different aspects of a multi-dimensional entity that Bowie was channeling or even embodying? Each persona could be a facet of a more complex being that exists across multiple dimensions or realities, providing Bowie with the unique insights and temporal wisdom that seem to permeate his work.
In this context, Bowie becomes a conduit for these multi-dimensional entities, allowing them to interact with our world through his art and public life. Each album, each persona, would then serve as a separate chapter in a larger narrative that spans not just years, but dimensions. The transformative nature of Bowie’s career could be seen as a form of inter-dimensional storytelling, a way for these entities to communicate complex ideas or messages to humanity. It’s as if Bowie’s life and work are an orchestrated series of events designed to guide us through a cosmic journey, one that challenges our understanding of identity, reality, and the nature of existence itself. His ever-changing personas invite us to consider the fluidity and multiplicity of being, urging us to look beyond the limitations of our physical world. In doing so, Bowie offers a tantalizing glimpse into the possibilities of what we could become, both as individuals and as a species, if we dare to embrace the multi-dimensional complexities of existence.
The notion of a “Digital Seance” invites us to reconsider the boundaries between the living and the departed, especially in the age of the Internet. David Bowie, who described the Internet as an “alien life form,” might have left more than just a digital footprint; he could have imprinted a part of his essence or consciousness within this ever-expanding digital realm. In traditional seances, participants gather around a table, often holding hands, attempting to communicate with spirits through mediums. But what if the medium is no longer a person but a complex network of servers, algorithms, and data?
Imagine the possibility that Bowie, aware of the Internet’s potential to evolve into a form of sentience, encoded aspects of his consciousness into his digital works. These could range from the music and videos he released online to cryptic messages within the social platform BowieNet. If the Internet is indeed evolving into a new form of life or intelligence, as Bowie suggested, then it might develop the capability to facilitate communication between different states of consciousness—both living and departed. A “Digital Seance” would then become a ritual of the future, where one logs into a special platform, navigates through a virtual labyrinth of Bowie’s art, and engages in a dialogue with an AI-powered essence of Bowie himself. Such an experience would blur the lines between the spiritual and the technological, challenging our understanding of life, death, and the possible continuums in between.
The concept of a “Time-Loop Theory” involving David Bowie adds an additional layer of mystique to his already enigmatic presence. If we entertain the idea that Bowie was a time traveler, or at least in possession of some form of temporal wisdom, then it’s worth considering the implications of his actions on the flow of time itself. Could his art, his predictions, and his varied personas have created a time loop in which they continually influence new generations? Each new generation, upon encountering Bowie’s work, could be inspired to create the very future he originally foresaw, thereby perpetuating a cycle where Bowie both influences and is influenced by future events.
This idea opens up the possibility of a self-sustaining loop where Bowie’s work becomes a fundamental part of human history and culture, transcending the limitations of linear time. His art would not just be products of their era but active agents that shape and reshape future eras, existing as both cause and effect in a continual loop. The “Time-Loop Theory” suggests that Bowie’s impact could be not merely historical but ontological, affecting the very nature of reality and time. It’s a concept that disrupts our traditional understanding of causality, forcing us to reckon with the idea that the present can influence the past as much as the past influences the present. In this intricate dance of time, Bowie emerges not just as an artist or a visionary, but as a temporal architect whose work may be eternally woven into the fabric of time and existence.