This is one of the most beau­tiful art­icles I’ve ever read.

Me, I like to think of the Earth as essen­tially a giant Tibetan singing bowl, flicked by the middle finger of God and set to a mes­mer­izing, low ring for about 10 bil­lion years until the tone begins to fade and the vibra­tion slows and even­tu­ally the sound com­pletely dis­ap­pears into noth­ing­ness and the birds are all, hey what the hell happened to the music? And God just shrugs and goes, well that was inter­esting.

Or maybe the planet is more like an enormous wine glass, half full of a heady potion made of horny uni­corns and divine lub­ricant and perky sun­shine, around the smooth, gleaming rim of which Dionysus him­self circles his wet fin­gertip, gen­er­ating a mel­li­fluous tone that makes the wood nymphs dance and the satyrs orgasm and the gods hum along as they all watch 7 bil­lion con­fused human ants scamper about with their lattes and their war and their per­petu­ally ador­able angst, obli­vious. [From Mark Morford’s Notes & Errata, SFGate]