This is the Earth. The white dot.
Inside this space of a few micrometres, there reside egos.
Egos, that find proxies in gender, money, power, ambition, fantasy and ideologies.
Egos of race and fairness of the face, caste and cows, religion and reason, left and right, money and might, grudges that never end, and powers that never bend.
All inside this dot.
Some of those egos attempt to stretch themselves to the Saturn. Saturn stares back, first into the black, sceptical if that white dot indeed matters much. By the way, that’s the best Saturn can get to telling white from black – unaware that the littleness of the white has space for enough egos to have their own meaning of white and black.
In the whiteness, Saturn cannot tell man from woman, rich from poor, dictator from refugee, resident from immigrant, human from animal, cow from dog, bicycle from car, virgin from pregnant, naked from decent, whispers from shouts, dumb from brains,…
In the darkness of the little white dot, however, reside egos. Egos to whom these distinctions matter – and they matter the world to them. But only the Saturn knows that ‘world’ looks just about as petty as it actually is…