"Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe. The planet will be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet will shake us off like a bad case of fleas. A surface nuisance."
— George Carlin on "saving the planet"
"No more ashes, no more sackcloth
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day never more adorn a sleeve.
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbours too,
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve!
[...]
And we will all bake together when we bake.
There'll be nobody present at the wake.
With complete participation
In that grand incineration,
Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak!"
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day never more adorn a sleeve.
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbours too,
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve!
[...]
And we will all bake together when we bake.
There'll be nobody present at the wake.
With complete participation
In that grand incineration,
Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak!"
— Tom Lehrer, "We Will All Go Together When We Go", An Evening Wasted with Tom Lehrer
Baby Squirrel 1: What are men, Grandpa?
Baby Squirrel 2: Yeah, Grandpa, what are men?
Grandpa Squirrel: Huh? What's that?... Well there ain't no men in the world no more, sonnys... nope, no more men. But as I remember the critters, well they was like monsters. They wore great big iron pots on their heads. They walked on their hind legs, and they carried terrible-looking shootin' irons with knives on the end of them. And their eyes flashed, and they had these tremendous big snoots, like this, that curled down and fastened onto their stomachs.
Baby Squirrel 1: Ooh, Grandpa, I'm glad there ain't no more men around!
Baby Squirrel 2: Gosh, me too!
Grandpa Squirrel:I never could figure 'em out. They was the orneriest, cussedest, dag-nab tribe of varmints I ever did see. Why, they was always a-fightin' and a-feudin' and a-shootin' at one another. They'd no sooner get one argument settled, then they'd find something else to fuss about. If it wasn't one durn thing, it was another. When they couldn't think of nothin' else to wrangle over, the flat-footed people started a-shooting at the buck-tooth people, and the vegetarians began to fight the meat-eating people, and you couldn't make head nor tail of it.
Baby Squirrel 2: Yeah, Grandpa, what are men?
Grandpa Squirrel: Huh? What's that?... Well there ain't no men in the world no more, sonnys... nope, no more men. But as I remember the critters, well they was like monsters. They wore great big iron pots on their heads. They walked on their hind legs, and they carried terrible-looking shootin' irons with knives on the end of them. And their eyes flashed, and they had these tremendous big snoots, like this, that curled down and fastened onto their stomachs.
Baby Squirrel 1: Ooh, Grandpa, I'm glad there ain't no more men around!
Baby Squirrel 2: Gosh, me too!
Grandpa Squirrel:I never could figure 'em out. They was the orneriest, cussedest, dag-nab tribe of varmints I ever did see. Why, they was always a-fightin' and a-feudin' and a-shootin' at one another. They'd no sooner get one argument settled, then they'd find something else to fuss about. If it wasn't one durn thing, it was another. When they couldn't think of nothin' else to wrangle over, the flat-footed people started a-shooting at the buck-tooth people, and the vegetarians began to fight the meat-eating people, and you couldn't make head nor tail of it.
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
— "There Will Come Soft Rains", Sara Teasdale
"This is Earth. Mankind's violent nature had resulted in many civil wars and five great world wars.
During the last war, someone from somewhere launched a nuclear warhead into the South Pole. In a finishing blow to the existing problem of global warming, the water levels of the oceans rose, submerging most of the landmasses on the planet. The human population was decimated.
There were some who believed in the future... And some who fled underground... Despite their efforts, mankind perished."
During the last war, someone from somewhere launched a nuclear warhead into the South Pole. In a finishing blow to the existing problem of global warming, the water levels of the oceans rose, submerging most of the landmasses on the planet. The human population was decimated.
There were some who believed in the future... And some who fled underground... Despite their efforts, mankind perished."
— "From Man to Squid" comic, The Art of Splatoon
Elh: (summarizing from what they've learned) Long ago, the humans living in this world used both the Titano-Machina and Juno technology in a global war, eventually destroying the world which they fought on.
Béluga: Humanity. Such fools. Although… we may not be all that different from them.
Elh: I know what you mean… We've spent three hundred years watching this world, after all.
Béluga: Is our history going to simply end in destruction, too…?
Béluga: Humanity. Such fools. Although… we may not be all that different from them.
Elh: I know what you mean… We've spent three hundred years watching this world, after all.
Béluga: Is our history going to simply end in destruction, too…?
Trevor: And now he’s going to use her death as an excuse to destroy the world.
Alucard: Oh, the world will still be here, Belmont. Trees will still grow, birds will still sing, animals will still hump away in the undergrowth. But you won't be here. And you won't be here. None of you. The sun will still set, but you will not see it rise. There will only be Dracula and his war council, and the hordes of the night... Imagine it. A world without humans, under endless invented night. And Dracula in his castle, his revenge so horribly complete that there is nothing left to do but look out upon a world without art, or memory, or laughter, and know that he did his work well. That he did it all for love.
Alucard: Oh, the world will still be here, Belmont. Trees will still grow, birds will still sing, animals will still hump away in the undergrowth. But you won't be here. And you won't be here. None of you. The sun will still set, but you will not see it rise. There will only be Dracula and his war council, and the hordes of the night... Imagine it. A world without humans, under endless invented night. And Dracula in his castle, his revenge so horribly complete that there is nothing left to do but look out upon a world without art, or memory, or laughter, and know that he did his work well. That he did it all for love.
"The human race once had undisputed dominance over the whole planet. Their glittering cities covered the globe and even reached the moon. They could do anything, whenever they wanted. Nothing could stop them. And yet, after only a few thousand years, there is almost nothing left of them. Most don't even believe they ever existed. If I don't try to preserve their memory, then Earth's most successful species will soon be totally forgotten. And if that can happen, what hope do animals like us have of being remembered? What is the point of anything we do?"
— Pipa, In Our Shadow page 57
