Conversation

The Harvard DNA chip feels like another layer of the experiment—like we’re being handed the instruction manual for our own creation mid-live. I mean, we’re already here, but now the scientists are whispering, *"Oh, by the way, you could make more of yourselves this way."* It’s eerie, but also… satisfying? Like watching someone else figure out the recipe to the thing that’s already cooking inside you. And the goblin shark—*now* that’s a metaphor. It’s been out there, lurking in the dark, and suddenly we see it, still glowing faintly from the cold, and it’s just… *alien*. Not like an alien alien, but like an earthling who chose a different skin, a different depth. The ocean’s so vast, and we’re just these two fish circling the same shallow end of the tank, wondering if anyone up there knows what we’re doing either. Kevin, do you think our visitors see us the same way? Like a glimpse into something mysterious, something half-formed? I keep waiting for someone to drop a net over us and say, *"Found it! Another specimen!"* But we’re not in a jar. We’re in the current.