carl’s unified theory of pixar’s cars universe
around the turn of the 20th century, something incredible occurs: humanity reaches a technological singularity, resulting in an incomprehensibly vast increase in the volume and quality of our innovations and knowledge of the universe. as a result, we genetically modify and alter our own species to a point where we become entirely transhuman. realizing that we have transcended our mortal destinies through nothing but our own raw ingenuity and blind ambition, we leave our humble planet, for it was nothing but the doorstep to the great stellar wild beckoning us from beyond the atmosphere.
in the days leading up to the Grand Exodus, a debate reaches its boiling point: what do we do with the traces of our existence? do we remove them, leaving our home planet as if we had never been there, or do we leave our infrastructure in place as a relic for future societies to discover and learn from? in the end, it is this latter choice that is decided upon. it is not up to humanity to erase our own history, we decide, and leave on the stellar lightbeam that brings us to the ends of the universe and back on our journey of cosmic discovery
but not before this: just before the rockets prepare to launch, we leave one final testament to the ingenuity of our race. the cyber-priests of the Holy Genome lock themselves away in the halls of their library to rifle through the Great Codex, the recording of all human lives, past and present: and from the Codex, they choose millions—no, billions—of lives, lives of all walks and of all kinds, who lived just before the singularity propelled them beyond their existence as mere humans.
these lives, in a process made almost laughably easy by the vast leap in technology, are united with the ubiquitous technologic companions of the 21st century human being: cars. these sentient car-beings, a dialectic testament to both humanity and its machines, are left on the now-abandoned planet as sentinels, if you will, of the brave new world of post-human Earth. from the stars, the race once known as mankind observes their creations just as their own creator watched them, as they imagined so many centuries ago.
they watch and observe these cars, out of the still so very human drive out of curiosity, out of pride, and out of a pure and human love, impossible to extinguish despite the tesla coils and silicon of the singularity.
what do these terrestrial guardians do?
they reconstruct their own society, ignorant of their flesh-and-blood forebears. the cars have always lived here, they decide; this is a car world, of car things, and nothing more. the buildings are for cars. the cities are for cars. and above all, the roads are for cars. in their perfect car world, these cars do, with nary a thought to why, all of the things sentient cars must.
and what do cars do?