What if the Avatar sequel does give the milwankers and Sarevokerritches what they want? What if the humans DO return and DO glass the shit out of Pandora with orbital Tunguskoids and strafe the fleeing blue people with Space MiGs with cockpits enclosed in corrugated sheet metal instead of glass canopies? H'okay. They do this because might makes right, because Jake Soolly and the Blue Bitch and the Eywah and the Na'vi don't have anything that can stop them. And because we're such big bad guys that we get hardons for killing defenseless blue people who we hate because they defeated our big awesome toys and mercenary Mareens with bullshit copouts.
Whatever survivor there are end up being placed in reservations or plantations or tarnations. The Earth gets all the precious minerals and unobtaniums it needs, because apparently it is a debatable life or death scenario, and so the ends do justify the means, and all that jazz. All the pesky locals are marginalized and whittled down. Biochemical warfare blankets (haha) the land. The human reigns supreme. It is the fairy tale ending for Spacemerica and we can all sleep soundly in knowing that the right thing has been done.
Then, because it's no-shit obvious that the Pandoran ecosystem is unnatural and perhaps artificially-induced, the actual makers of Pandora - great beings capable of shaping an entire world and engineering the minutiae of an entire impossibly complicated sentient ecosystem heretofore unknown to mankind (and which will remain unknown since they bombed the shit out of all those stupid trees) - return from their sojourn beyond the nine vectors of the known and unknown universe, and find out that the living biotech organic planet they were using as a laptop just got trashed by some piddling little monkeys who can barely make it off their planet to reach other worlds, dumb little mouthbreathing apes who just broke their stuff with crude primitive technoshit that shoot little pieces of metal from their ends.
They're pissed. This beautiful world they crafted is gone. But they won't get angry. They'll get even.
So they come to our world, Earth. This miserable polluted little planet with a ravaged environment. Filled with warmongering little shits who're drunk on victory, celebrating the violent destruction of the hated world Pandora and all the loathsomely peaceful primitive naturalistic nature-worshipping Na'vi in it.
The sight of this horrifies the alien Pandora-makers. Yet they feel pity. For the people of this world, so hateful and warlike, were shaped by such miserable and grotesque environs into the monsters they are now.
Instead of revengeance, the Pandora Makers instead do us a service.
They come to our world and destroy all of our militaries with one fell swoop. Their living technologies, mighty enough to sculpt whole worlds, rend our warmachines asunder with a destrucity incomprehensible to our primitive minds. We regress to mere apes huddling in the darkness of the cave at night, by the firelight, in fear of the thunder and lightning shattering the bleeding sky. For to them, that is all we are.
After mere minutes of wasting our pathetic attempts at resistance, at bravado, they begin giving us the blessings of their kind. They reshape our polluted planet into the form of that moon we just despoiled. They turn Earth into a new Pandora. Sculpting its continents, intelligently designing its ecosystems.
And then, at the head of it all, they come for us.
Wicked creatures fat with greed and envy and hate and rage. They see us and pity us. Their anger gives way to a genuine desire to... make us better. For they, like gods before us, with all their knowledge of the cosmos and universal truths - do these not make them righter than us, do these not allow them to judge us and decide "what is best for us"?
As we do to the poorer and more primitive peoples kneeling before the sword, so do they too do unto us.
The great whaleships that fill the sky with their vast immeasurable bulk sifts through the teeming masses of humanity as though we were but microbial mollusks floating in the sea. They sort the wicked from the good. The just from the unjust.
As they remake the world into a new Pandora, complete with a new Lifa Tree reaching into the heavens with tendrilous branches like the extended fingers of a hand, so are we ourselves - mankind, humanity - remade into new forms.
Those few found to be just and worthy are remade in new forms to be optimally harmonious with the Pandora'd Earth. Cerulean in complexion, with the organic appendages needed to organo-spiritually commune with the world-spirit of the Second Eywah. They have been turned into Na'vi.
And those many whose mind-souls were found lacking are instead turned into lower forms. Minds more primal, more animalistic, consistent with their base desires and the impulses that led them astray. They are turned into the creatures that inhabit the ecosystem of this new Pandora, with the neural-dendrites needed still to interface with the Second Eywah, but the world-soul will only accept their communion when they have become worthy.
For these wretches must live a thousand lives in these lower forms, until their soul-minds are purified of the ills which brought the wrongs of the past. As they attain higher awareness, the Second Eywah grants them higher forms in their next incarnations, on and on until they finally become men - blue men - once more. This is when they have become truly pure of heart and spirit, and thus worthy to live in tranquility and in commune with the world-spirit.
It is Samsara and Karma on a cosmic scale. These great progenitor aliens have come to bring balance and harmony, through the cycle of life, of desire and suffering, of enlightenment and awareness. For the inhabitants of what was then Pandora too were wicked in their ways, before they were remade into the Na'vi. It is ironic then, that their destroyers be given the same fate - the same chance at redemption and salvation.
The aliens would ask themselves. Are we right to dictate the wills and fates of these peoples? But perhaps they would say, We are but gods to them, with our knowledge of the cosmos. They are but infantile children and must be taught a lesson by their betters, by their elders. As we ourselves so ignorantly judge others less than us, so too are we judged by those greater than we - and thus we become humble, and better.
And, shit. James Cameron filled his movie with "avatar" and "reincarnation" and blue-skinned people. It's a huge ass reference to Hindu mythology, and the next movies should totally involve these psycho-spiritual whatsits involving entire planetary populations undertaking the cycle of death and rebirth until they make final communion with an intergalactic Brahman.
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- PeZook
