We have GPS stations anchored into bedrock all over the world To measure the rock? Well, yes, these are fixed points to define our reference systems But notice—their data shows not inert, unmoving stone but waves—a twice daily rise and fall, the pull and press of moon and sun, of ocean and atmosphere teased together. Tides, you see the crests and troughs up to half a metre apart, our GPS sailing over solid earth We fix them anyway finding formulas to flatten the breath and beat and wiggle of this bedrock, using 'love numbers'—named for their creator That it works is astonishing Our geodesists conjuring grids of space to define and divide this point from that one, holding the whole tremoring mass still enough for us to make use of it One of our gentler acts of domination I was reminded of this recently on hearing about parasitic wasps and how they capture cockroaches to feed and house their young And I wonder as she injects her formula to pacify his brain, would she, too, call it love? Would she, too, tell her young it is just a resource? Would their innocent selves, eating out his not-dead insides, ever say "But Mum—it's moving"
From: Vol.10 N.01 – Private: The Transformative Now
by Andie Hay