A fish story: gloomy thought for the day
I used to keep tropical aquariums. 10 gallon, 30 gallon, lots of different danios, tetras, and the like. I had a knack; some of my fish lived 3-5 years. Fishkeeping is half chemistry and half devotion. I changed their water faithfully and I kept the water chemicals balanced–things like the pH and ammonia levels and so on. Fish are incredibly sensitive to their environment; using soap on the aquarium might kill them all, for example.
My last aquarium in Phoenix was the biggest I’d ever kept. In Phoenix, I didn’t have a neighbor to feed the fish when I was away. I didn’t travel much, and usually it was just a weekend. For three days, I could let the fish be hungry; it wouldn’t hurt them.
But one time, I needed to be gone for eight days. I decided to try one of those vacation feeders. They gradually release food into the water so the fish can eat for a week. I went on my vacation, not too worried.
I returned to find 10 dead fish and a whole bunch of sick ones. Turns out the vacation feeders aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. It ruined the chemical balance in my water and killed a bunch of fish. A great fish tragedy indeed. Many eulogies were spoken over the toilet.
But here’s the kicker–no matter what I did to that tank afterwards, no matter what treatments I used or how I changed the water… I never got that tank healthy again. I kept losing fish. Randomly and inexplicably. They became ghosts in a haunted mansion. I had to abandon that tank.
Which brings me to my gloomy thought. Even if technology advances dramatically–even if we find a way to remove pollutants from the air or clean the oceans or cool the planet back down–it may never be able to sustain healthy humans again.
Compare and contrast
Discuss.
Hugo Reading
If anyone’s looking for stories to nominate for the Hugo, I’ve got my 2008 publications listed on my bibliography. Some are available online, and I’m happy to send the others to anyone who’s doing some reading right now. Just let me know.


