Every living thing on this planet has found it perfectly habitable, and they just hunt or graze. We think we’re special because we can envision doing either of those things more effectively for ourselves. And maybe we are, the likelihood of us being on a very habitable planet teeming with life, versus everything else we know is one out of every space rock we’ve ever witnessed. Or it’s not special at all, and yet we make the choice of thinking we are anyway, and that we must “conquer nature” as some sort of testament to, who or what end, exactly? To defy god, to procreate our special seed, to prove that we can? Shall we manifest destiny all the other barren rocks to make them habitable too, just because we can?