Something New

Good News From Elsewhere

You and I know there have to be plenty of other inhabited worlds out there. I recently learned that while none of them are perfect utopias they do have one structural advantage over us here on earth: everyone out there knows they are eternal consciousness inhabiting temporary avatars.

They still argue. They still mess things up. They still struggle with power, pride, fear, desire, and all the familiar complications of existence. But they argue about those things while remembering that they don’t actually die.

We humans, as a general rule, do not remember this.

I learned that these many “elsewhere” civilizations are bound by something they call the Prime Resonance, which citizens describe this way: “I am not my body, I am not my biography, and who I am will never end.” That knowledge doesn’t solve everything for them, but it does prevent certain kinds of catastrophes from getting out of hand.

We humans, on the other hand, seem to have missed that memo. We fear death as if it were the end of us. And we identify with our human avatars, trying in vain to become who we’ve forgotten we already eternally are.

Oddly enough, that may be exactly why Earth has been chosen for a rather extraordinary event that’s brewing in the celestial heavens, scheduled for 2041, which I’ve described as “something wonderful is happening.”

But that’s for later.

For now, here’s the first three brief dispatches of good news from elsewhere. They will be coming regularly now; as soon as I have them, you’ll have them. Displays will improve as I’m given more precise locations. And for those interested, we’ll be developing detailed histories and descriptions of planets and inhabitants.

Why am I introducing this for 2026? Earth seems to be poor in good news so I figure we might get inspired by finding out the positive things that are happening… elsewhere!

The Council of Moored Cities has officially reclassified resentment from a “civilizational threat” to a “temporary weather condition.”

Under the new protocol, no grievance may be carried longer than a single tidal cycle. Citizens found clinging to anger after the waters turn are required to enter the sea with the person involved and remain there until one of them laughs, forgives, or admits exhaustion.

Early data shows no reduction in conflict. There has been a measurable increase in swimming proficiency, lung capacity, and public apologies delivered while treading water.

Philosophers attached to the Council continue to broadcast the same reminder at each tide change: “You are not this mood. You are just visiting it.”

NOTE TO READERS:

Eryndel is a water-dominant world where cities float, drift, and occasionally collide. Emotional states have long been observed to synchronize with tidal forces, an effect the Eryndelians stopped resisting generations ago.

Because all citizens are trained from early childhood to perceive themselves as eternal consciousness occupying fluid forms, emotional intensity is treated as information rather than identity. Storms pass. So do tempers.

Visitors often describe Eryndel as peaceful, though residents insist that is incorrect.
“Peace,” they explain, “would imply stillness. We specialize in motion.”

Public health officials report that shame is no longer spreading at epidemic levels.

The shift followed a widely attended address by Elder Marneth Sol, who began her speech with the statement: “I have been wrong about nearly everything, and I am still here.”

The announcement caused a brief system-wide pause as citizens recalibrated their self-concepts. Medical sensors recorded elevated heart coherence, followed by collective relief.

New social customs have since emerged. Citizens now greet one another not by listing accomplishments, but by sharing the most recent belief they have abandoned.

The customary response is: acknowledgment, mild laughter, and tea.

Productivity metrics have declined slightly. Wellbeing indicators have spiked dramatically.

NOTE TO READERS:

Hesh-Var evolved inward. Its dominant lifeforms developed rich internal ecologies long before they built outward-facing civilizations. As a result, perfection once became a social currency, and misunderstanding oneself was considered a private failure.

That model persisted for centuries, producing remarkable art, architecture, and quiet despair.

Because the population is fully aware of their eternal nature, the recent shift did not provoke existential panic. Instead, citizens appear relieved to treat self-correction as a communal activity rather than a moral flaw.

A popular phrase now circulates through the gardens: “Clarity is what happens after you stop pretending.”

The High Strategium has released a statement confirming that domination has been classified as “energetically inefficient.”

Following a multi-century analysis of conquest-based stability models, Concord analysts concluded that maintaining enemies requires more resources than maintaining relationships.

As a result, all command-level officers are now required to inhabit civilian avatars for one full cycle every seven rotations. During this period, they may not issue orders, command troops, or invoke lineage authority.

Initial resistance was strong. Compliance is now… enthusiastic.

The official communiqué reads: “We are eternal beings. There is no honor in winning a game that never ends.”

Morale indicators remain high, though researchers note widespread confusion regarding what to do with unspent aggression.

NOTE TO READERS:

Kael’Torr was forged in extreme conditions near the galactic core, where radiation, scarcity, and competition shaped a civilization built on hierarchy and control. For millennia, evil was not denied but managed, formalized, and weaponized into order.

The changes are described less as enlightenment and more as practical maturity. A retired general summarized it succinctly: “War kept us organized. Rest keeps us sane. We should have tried that one sooner.”