sun: anyone who has been there has to admit the superiority of the vegetable world to ours.  their ambassadors, in fact, betray a profound disgust that we inhabit animal forms, that we feed on anything other than the sun.  for them they are divided into the mechanical and the intelligent.  their body, the meat that moves them, is a kind of host, symbiotic partner, but without, really, a mind of its own.  Only enough to eat and drink.  the plants live on them like our flesh lives on our bones.  they send their roots down into the nerves of the animal, and from then on control its muscles, movements.  But when the animal dies the plant just sends out seedlings of itself to land and launch its grown on another host—so their spirits are immortal.  they can choose creatures of land or air or water as their carriers, depending on their whim.  their world is green, and their only food the sun.  They can think in peace while their animal halves root for food.  they themselves are vegetable, and perfect.  Without the inconvenience of an intelligence lodged in animal form, they have no fear of death.  They are left to photosynthesize, to unfold themselves and dream under the sun.