Poem: "Hickory Lives"
Oct. 4th, 2021 01:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem is the free perk for the September 2021 half-price sale meeting its $1,000 stretch goal. Thank you for your generosity! It came out of the March 2, 2021 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from kengr, readera, wyld_dandelyon, ng_moonmoth, and Anonymous. It also fills the "Tempting" square in my 2-1-21 "Romance Book Titles" card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem belongs to the Bear Tunnels series and follows "The Hobbomak," so read that first or this won't make any sense.
"Hickory Lives"
[April 2019]
Emma and Jesse spent a week
doing research about what
they had already found.
"Northern Red Oaks live
about five hundred years,"
Emma said. "Bitternut Hickory
only reaches two hundred."
They looked at the pictures
together, counting the trees.
"I think the whole span runs
about 1400 years," Emma said.
She touched a picture showing
the forest around the hobbomak.
"Two hickory-lives would be
about four hundred years ago."
"The Massachusetts Bay Colony
was founded in 1628," Jesse said.
"Village in danger," Emma breathed.
"The white men came and then
there were fights and sickness.
Almost everybody died."
"It fits the images that we
found," Jesse said. "A lot of
villages in New England
died out that way."
"We need to go back
and see about dating
the site," Emma said.
"Even if it's disturbed,
we can learn things."
They followed the GPS
to the hobbomak and
documented the surface.
"It seems solid," Jesse said,
carefully brushing at the dirt.
"We came through here, but I
don't see a cap or a catch or --"
Suddenly there was a hole.
"Okay, so ... that just happened,"
Jesse said. "The ground was here,
and then it just disappeared."
Emma stuck her arm in the hole
and waved it around. "Yeah,
looks that way," she said.
"It must have happened
before, but we weren't
watching for it then."
"Well, we got down and
back out last time, so let's
explore more," Jesse said.
"Oh hey -- here's the ladder!"
"So whatever's going on,
it does open the hatch in
the same place every time,"
Emma said, making a note.
They climbed into the chamber,
and just as before, it lit up.
Emma studied the markings
as Jesse mapped the chamber
and its structural features.
"You know what isn't here?"
she said. "Graffiti. I don't see
any spray paint at all, and if
people came down here in
recent decades, the place
would be covered in graffiti."
"I haven't seen any either,"
Jesse said. "Also no trash."
"Let's check the floor for
garbage," Emma said.
"People drop things."
The place was oddly,
almost suspiciously clean
except for dirt and stones.
"No burnt-out bulbs," Jesse said.
"You know how, when you hang
holiday lights, a lot of times one
pops out of its socket and lands
on the ground? Nothing here."
Emma checked where the floor
met the picture wall. "No sign
of dropped writing utensils."
"Hey, I found something!"
Jesse said. "It looks like foil."
"Candy wrapper, or maybe
a ration bar?" Emma said
as she headed over to him.
"Something like that," Jesse said,
taking pictures to document
the placement of the find in
a dark corner of the chamber.
He crouched down to brush off
the thick layer of dirt that embedded
the wrapper right into the floor.
Suddenly a light flared and
strange, jangly music played.
Then a tiny girl appeared, singing
in a language that neither of them
understood while she waved
what looked like a candy bar.
Jesse jerked back and fell
on his butt. "Was -- was that
a hologram? Coming from
a candy wrapper?" he said.
"Yeah," Emma said slowly.
"We don't actually have
the technology for that."
"Or the appearing and
disappearing door,"
Jesse said, "though
that may be closer."
"We have holograms,
but the projectors are bulky,
and holographic paper can't
record sound or motion,"
Emma said. "That looked
like a commercial embedded
in a candy wrapper. Somehow."
"I agree that it resembled
a commercial," Jesse said,
recording the observation.
"So it's an out-of-place artifact,
but it's out of place even for
our time, let alone whenever
it actually got buried here."
"Military establishment?"
Emma said. "I know they
claimed to have provided
a list of former sites so
that nobody stumbles into
an abandoned missile silo,
but are we sure it's complete?"
"If this was a military site, then
it would have labels all over
everything -- the buttons,
an exit sign, that sort of
thing," Jesse pointed out.
"Maybe they're hidden
underneath the dust?"
Emma said doubtfully.
"We can check," Jesse said,
going over to the metal wall.
Emma looked at it, then
shook her head. "All I can
see is that it looks a little like
a computer, if somebody
shoved one into a wall
in an attempt to hide it."
"I see structures, patterns,"
Jesse said. "I might be able
to figure out something, even
if I can't find any labels."
He took more pictures,
poking at the wall, then
making notes, to see
if anything changed.
Emma watched him for
a few minutes, then went
back to the pictographs.
She found, underneath
the large images, sets of
much smaller dots together
that might represent groups
of people traveling the path.
A strange grinding noise
filled the chamber, like
a shovel scraping dirt.
Emma whirled around.
"What happened?" she said.
"I don't know," Jesse said.
"I was just pressing over
the patterns to see whether
anything would respond, like
... press any key to continue?"
"I'm going to check the hatch,"
Emma said. "That sounded
like something moving through
dirt, or with grit in the gears."
"Yeah, it did," Jesse said.
"I hope it didn't get stuck."
Emma climbed the handholds,
and the hope appeared just
as it had every other time.
When she stuck her head out,
though, she stared in shock.
"Jesse," she said, "come up
here. You need to see this."
He climbed up behind her.
"Holy shit," he said faintly.
All around them loomed
huge trees, taller and wider
than anything that should
be growing in this area.
These certainly weren't
the trees that they had
passed on the way in.
"Did ... we come out in
the wrong place, somehow?"
Jesse said, looking around.
"This looks almost like
Cold River Virgin Forest."
"No, that has hemlock
and red spruce along with
the red oak," said Emma.
"These are mostly hickory,
oak, and a few sugar maples."
"Sugar maples!" Jesse said,
bounding toward the trees.
He made his way around
the trunks, examining them
closely, then came back.
"Well?" Emma said. "What
were you looking for there?"
"Tapping scars," said Jesse.
"I found some, but the shape is
wrong. These are slashes made
by a hatchet, not round holes
made by a drill. I know everyone
who does traditional tapping for
demonstrations in this state, and
none of them work in this area."
"So we have incongruous trees
with incongruous holes in them,"
Emma said. "Here's another oddity:
do you hear anything right now?"
"Some birds," Jesse said,
tilting his head. "That's all."
"Yeah," Emma said. "I don't
hear any cars at all, and we're
not that far away from the road.
No planes overhead, either."
Jesse leaned back to look up
at the dense canopy of leaves.
"I can't even see the sky," he said.
"I'll climb up and take a look around
from up high," Emma said. There
were plenty of trees with limbs
low enough to reach easily.
When she reached the top,
she was stunned. She could
see clearly in all directions, and
what she saw was ... more trees.
The vast forest stretched out,
unbroken, around the hobbomak.
There was no sign of roads or
houses or any other civilization
A few dimples might have been
cleared fields or natural clearings,
but she couldn't see for sure.
The sky was empty of anything
except for large flocks of birds.
Emma climbed down. "Either
we aren't in Massachusetts or
not the one we know," she said.
"I couldn't see any roads or
structures, and no airplanes."
"Maybe if we go back down
the hole, everything will return
to normal on its own?" Jesse said.
"Like how the hatch comes and goes."
"I don't think so," Emma said. "Before,
it was just responding to us moving
around, like a motion detector operating
a door. This time you did something.
I think you need to undo that."
"O ... kay," Jesse said slowly.
"I took lots of pictures and notes.
I can deconstruct what I did."
They went back down, and
Jesse poked at the wall until
it produced the grinding sound.
Emma hurried up the ladder,
then whooped. "Yes!" she said.
"Everything is back to normal."
Jesse joined her. "So what
we have is not just a site with
with weird chronology, it's ...
some kind of transporter."
"Time machine," Emma said.
"I think that it's a time machine."
"But it doesn't look like anything
I've seen in movies or books,"
Jesse said. "It's a hole in
ground, not a vehicle."
"So?" Emma said.
"How the hell would
the writers know what
a time machine looks like?"
"Good point," Jesse said.
"I wonder why it's here."
"Maybe because it isn't
a vehicle," Emma said.
"They might have to build
this kind and just leave it."
"Or maybe they left it here
on purpose, like a lifeboat,"
Jesse said. "You read the wall
as an escape route, earlier."
"Yes," said Emma. "If this
went to the time just before
or after the colonists arrived,
then someone could have
rescued the natives."
Jesse smiled. "That's
a nice thought," he said.
"Maybe we could help too."
"Or maybe," Emma said,
her eyes narrowing, "we
could fix it so that they
don't need to escape --
unify the tribes, block
the invasion at the start."
"Free the slaves, both red
and black," Jesse added.
"And the women, any of
them who want a better life,"
Emma said. "We could do it."
"What if it can go somewhere else?"
Jesse said. "Somewhen else?"
"Maybe it does, maybe not.
Maybe we could get there
and back again, maybe not,"
Emma said. "The real question
is, do you care as much about
somewhen else as you do about
our ancestors back in 1628?"
"No," Jesse said, "not really.
It's tempting to go back
and fix what went wrong,
at least as best we can."
"So we're doing this?"
Emma said, wriggling
a little with excitement.
"You have the final say,"
Jesse demurred.
Clan mothers had led
the Wampanoag in
the past, and the tribe
still looked up to women.
"We're doing this," she declared.
* * *
Notes:
Chronological dating of archaeological sites and artifacts uses a variety of methods.
White pine, Red Maple, Northern Red Oak and Hemlock are the most common tree species.
Massachusetts's forests are covered by five major forest types: northern hardwoods, oak/hickory, white and red pine, mixed oak/white pine, and elm/ash/red maple.
Berkshires and North Quabbin
• northern red oak (+,+)
• white oak (+,+)
• eastern white pine (0,0)
• red maple (0,0)
• chestnut oak (+,+)
• black oak (+,+)
• eastern hemlock (0,0)*
• shagbark hickory (+,+)
• bitternut hickory (0,+)
• black birch (+,+)
• paper birch (-,-)
• black cherry (0,+)
Tree lifespans vary considerably; bitternut hickory runs about 200 years. Northern red oak grows fast and can live up to 500 years.
Appearing as practical electronic components in 1962, the earliest LEDs emitted low-intensity infrared (IR) light. Infrared LEDs are used in remote-control circuits, such as those used with a wide variety of consumer electronics. The first visible-light LEDs were of low intensity and limited to red. Modern LEDs are available across the visible, ultraviolet (UV), and infrared wavelengths, with high light output.
The history of spray paint combines with the history of graffiti.
Holograms are just getting started here. Holographic wrapping paper exists, but cannot do anything fancy.
An out-of-place artifact does not fit its archaeological situation.
Read about old-growth forests in Massachusetts.
Cold River Virgin Forest was designated a National Natural Landmark by the National Park Service in April 1980.
It is located within Mohawk Trail State Forest nine miles southeast of North Adams in Berkshire and Franklin counties. Cold River Virgin Forest is probably the only virgin hemlock-northern hardwood forest in New England with the hemlocks and sugar maples exceeding 400 years in age.
Old growth and tall (2nd growth) trees
Mohawk Trail State Forest is specifically known for its tall trees. A total of 612 acres (248 ha) of the state forest is classified as pre-settlement old growth by researchers.[4] Trees approaching 500 years in age have been confirmed. Most of the extremely old trees are Eastern hemlock. Other species reaching significant age include yellow and black birch, sugar maple, red spruce, and northern red oak. Specimens of examples of all these species exceed 300 years in age and numerous trees of a dozen species surpass 200 years. Trees over 150 years old in Mohawk are very common.
Maple trees can be tapped in various ways, and they all leave scars which can be seen for a time before enough new wood covers them. These scars often appear in angled lines around a tree, because each tree can be tapped multiple times without serious harm. The modern method uses a drill to make a round hole. Historically, Native Americans used a hatchet to cut a slot or V notch. So it is easy to tell at a glance which method has been used, because they leave scars of different shapes.
Very little silence remains in the modern world, so stepping into a quiet place is unusual.
The Massachusetts Bay Colony (1628–1691) played a major role in the European invasion of Turtle Island.
The Massachusett people have long lived in what is now called Massachusetts, although few remain in modern times. They include the Wampanoag tribe.
Slavery has a long history in Massachusetts.
You belong to a family clan and the leader of that clan is the clan mother, who's kind of the top elected grandma from each family clan. They actually have the final say in how our societies were run and are run today. In fact, our word for woman translates into English as, 'she who has final say', because of the clan mothers.”
kengr, readera, wyld_dandelyon, ng_moonmoth, and Anonymous. It also fills the "Tempting" square in my 2-1-21 "Romance Book Titles" card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem belongs to the Bear Tunnels series and follows "The Hobbomak," so read that first or this won't make any sense."Hickory Lives"
[April 2019]
Emma and Jesse spent a week
doing research about what
they had already found.
"Northern Red Oaks live
about five hundred years,"
Emma said. "Bitternut Hickory
only reaches two hundred."
They looked at the pictures
together, counting the trees.
"I think the whole span runs
about 1400 years," Emma said.
She touched a picture showing
the forest around the hobbomak.
"Two hickory-lives would be
about four hundred years ago."
"The Massachusetts Bay Colony
was founded in 1628," Jesse said.
"Village in danger," Emma breathed.
"The white men came and then
there were fights and sickness.
Almost everybody died."
"It fits the images that we
found," Jesse said. "A lot of
villages in New England
died out that way."
"We need to go back
and see about dating
the site," Emma said.
"Even if it's disturbed,
we can learn things."
They followed the GPS
to the hobbomak and
documented the surface.
"It seems solid," Jesse said,
carefully brushing at the dirt.
"We came through here, but I
don't see a cap or a catch or --"
Suddenly there was a hole.
"Okay, so ... that just happened,"
Jesse said. "The ground was here,
and then it just disappeared."
Emma stuck her arm in the hole
and waved it around. "Yeah,
looks that way," she said.
"It must have happened
before, but we weren't
watching for it then."
"Well, we got down and
back out last time, so let's
explore more," Jesse said.
"Oh hey -- here's the ladder!"
"So whatever's going on,
it does open the hatch in
the same place every time,"
Emma said, making a note.
They climbed into the chamber,
and just as before, it lit up.
Emma studied the markings
as Jesse mapped the chamber
and its structural features.
"You know what isn't here?"
she said. "Graffiti. I don't see
any spray paint at all, and if
people came down here in
recent decades, the place
would be covered in graffiti."
"I haven't seen any either,"
Jesse said. "Also no trash."
"Let's check the floor for
garbage," Emma said.
"People drop things."
The place was oddly,
almost suspiciously clean
except for dirt and stones.
"No burnt-out bulbs," Jesse said.
"You know how, when you hang
holiday lights, a lot of times one
pops out of its socket and lands
on the ground? Nothing here."
Emma checked where the floor
met the picture wall. "No sign
of dropped writing utensils."
"Hey, I found something!"
Jesse said. "It looks like foil."
"Candy wrapper, or maybe
a ration bar?" Emma said
as she headed over to him.
"Something like that," Jesse said,
taking pictures to document
the placement of the find in
a dark corner of the chamber.
He crouched down to brush off
the thick layer of dirt that embedded
the wrapper right into the floor.
Suddenly a light flared and
strange, jangly music played.
Then a tiny girl appeared, singing
in a language that neither of them
understood while she waved
what looked like a candy bar.
Jesse jerked back and fell
on his butt. "Was -- was that
a hologram? Coming from
a candy wrapper?" he said.
"Yeah," Emma said slowly.
"We don't actually have
the technology for that."
"Or the appearing and
disappearing door,"
Jesse said, "though
that may be closer."
"We have holograms,
but the projectors are bulky,
and holographic paper can't
record sound or motion,"
Emma said. "That looked
like a commercial embedded
in a candy wrapper. Somehow."
"I agree that it resembled
a commercial," Jesse said,
recording the observation.
"So it's an out-of-place artifact,
but it's out of place even for
our time, let alone whenever
it actually got buried here."
"Military establishment?"
Emma said. "I know they
claimed to have provided
a list of former sites so
that nobody stumbles into
an abandoned missile silo,
but are we sure it's complete?"
"If this was a military site, then
it would have labels all over
everything -- the buttons,
an exit sign, that sort of
thing," Jesse pointed out.
"Maybe they're hidden
underneath the dust?"
Emma said doubtfully.
"We can check," Jesse said,
going over to the metal wall.
Emma looked at it, then
shook her head. "All I can
see is that it looks a little like
a computer, if somebody
shoved one into a wall
in an attempt to hide it."
"I see structures, patterns,"
Jesse said. "I might be able
to figure out something, even
if I can't find any labels."
He took more pictures,
poking at the wall, then
making notes, to see
if anything changed.
Emma watched him for
a few minutes, then went
back to the pictographs.
She found, underneath
the large images, sets of
much smaller dots together
that might represent groups
of people traveling the path.
A strange grinding noise
filled the chamber, like
a shovel scraping dirt.
Emma whirled around.
"What happened?" she said.
"I don't know," Jesse said.
"I was just pressing over
the patterns to see whether
anything would respond, like
... press any key to continue?"
"I'm going to check the hatch,"
Emma said. "That sounded
like something moving through
dirt, or with grit in the gears."
"Yeah, it did," Jesse said.
"I hope it didn't get stuck."
Emma climbed the handholds,
and the hope appeared just
as it had every other time.
When she stuck her head out,
though, she stared in shock.
"Jesse," she said, "come up
here. You need to see this."
He climbed up behind her.
"Holy shit," he said faintly.
All around them loomed
huge trees, taller and wider
than anything that should
be growing in this area.
These certainly weren't
the trees that they had
passed on the way in.
"Did ... we come out in
the wrong place, somehow?"
Jesse said, looking around.
"This looks almost like
Cold River Virgin Forest."
"No, that has hemlock
and red spruce along with
the red oak," said Emma.
"These are mostly hickory,
oak, and a few sugar maples."
"Sugar maples!" Jesse said,
bounding toward the trees.
He made his way around
the trunks, examining them
closely, then came back.
"Well?" Emma said. "What
were you looking for there?"
"Tapping scars," said Jesse.
"I found some, but the shape is
wrong. These are slashes made
by a hatchet, not round holes
made by a drill. I know everyone
who does traditional tapping for
demonstrations in this state, and
none of them work in this area."
"So we have incongruous trees
with incongruous holes in them,"
Emma said. "Here's another oddity:
do you hear anything right now?"
"Some birds," Jesse said,
tilting his head. "That's all."
"Yeah," Emma said. "I don't
hear any cars at all, and we're
not that far away from the road.
No planes overhead, either."
Jesse leaned back to look up
at the dense canopy of leaves.
"I can't even see the sky," he said.
"I'll climb up and take a look around
from up high," Emma said. There
were plenty of trees with limbs
low enough to reach easily.
When she reached the top,
she was stunned. She could
see clearly in all directions, and
what she saw was ... more trees.
The vast forest stretched out,
unbroken, around the hobbomak.
There was no sign of roads or
houses or any other civilization
A few dimples might have been
cleared fields or natural clearings,
but she couldn't see for sure.
The sky was empty of anything
except for large flocks of birds.
Emma climbed down. "Either
we aren't in Massachusetts or
not the one we know," she said.
"I couldn't see any roads or
structures, and no airplanes."
"Maybe if we go back down
the hole, everything will return
to normal on its own?" Jesse said.
"Like how the hatch comes and goes."
"I don't think so," Emma said. "Before,
it was just responding to us moving
around, like a motion detector operating
a door. This time you did something.
I think you need to undo that."
"O ... kay," Jesse said slowly.
"I took lots of pictures and notes.
I can deconstruct what I did."
They went back down, and
Jesse poked at the wall until
it produced the grinding sound.
Emma hurried up the ladder,
then whooped. "Yes!" she said.
"Everything is back to normal."
Jesse joined her. "So what
we have is not just a site with
with weird chronology, it's ...
some kind of transporter."
"Time machine," Emma said.
"I think that it's a time machine."
"But it doesn't look like anything
I've seen in movies or books,"
Jesse said. "It's a hole in
ground, not a vehicle."
"So?" Emma said.
"How the hell would
the writers know what
a time machine looks like?"
"Good point," Jesse said.
"I wonder why it's here."
"Maybe because it isn't
a vehicle," Emma said.
"They might have to build
this kind and just leave it."
"Or maybe they left it here
on purpose, like a lifeboat,"
Jesse said. "You read the wall
as an escape route, earlier."
"Yes," said Emma. "If this
went to the time just before
or after the colonists arrived,
then someone could have
rescued the natives."
Jesse smiled. "That's
a nice thought," he said.
"Maybe we could help too."
"Or maybe," Emma said,
her eyes narrowing, "we
could fix it so that they
don't need to escape --
unify the tribes, block
the invasion at the start."
"Free the slaves, both red
and black," Jesse added.
"And the women, any of
them who want a better life,"
Emma said. "We could do it."
"What if it can go somewhere else?"
Jesse said. "Somewhen else?"
"Maybe it does, maybe not.
Maybe we could get there
and back again, maybe not,"
Emma said. "The real question
is, do you care as much about
somewhen else as you do about
our ancestors back in 1628?"
"No," Jesse said, "not really.
It's tempting to go back
and fix what went wrong,
at least as best we can."
"So we're doing this?"
Emma said, wriggling
a little with excitement.
"You have the final say,"
Jesse demurred.
Clan mothers had led
the Wampanoag in
the past, and the tribe
still looked up to women.
"We're doing this," she declared.
* * *
Notes:
Chronological dating of archaeological sites and artifacts uses a variety of methods.
White pine, Red Maple, Northern Red Oak and Hemlock are the most common tree species.
Massachusetts's forests are covered by five major forest types: northern hardwoods, oak/hickory, white and red pine, mixed oak/white pine, and elm/ash/red maple.
Berkshires and North Quabbin
• northern red oak (+,+)
• white oak (+,+)
• eastern white pine (0,0)
• red maple (0,0)
• chestnut oak (+,+)
• black oak (+,+)
• eastern hemlock (0,0)*
• shagbark hickory (+,+)
• bitternut hickory (0,+)
• black birch (+,+)
• paper birch (-,-)
• black cherry (0,+)
Tree lifespans vary considerably; bitternut hickory runs about 200 years. Northern red oak grows fast and can live up to 500 years.
Appearing as practical electronic components in 1962, the earliest LEDs emitted low-intensity infrared (IR) light. Infrared LEDs are used in remote-control circuits, such as those used with a wide variety of consumer electronics. The first visible-light LEDs were of low intensity and limited to red. Modern LEDs are available across the visible, ultraviolet (UV), and infrared wavelengths, with high light output.
The history of spray paint combines with the history of graffiti.
Holograms are just getting started here. Holographic wrapping paper exists, but cannot do anything fancy.
An out-of-place artifact does not fit its archaeological situation.
Read about old-growth forests in Massachusetts.
Cold River Virgin Forest was designated a National Natural Landmark by the National Park Service in April 1980.
It is located within Mohawk Trail State Forest nine miles southeast of North Adams in Berkshire and Franklin counties. Cold River Virgin Forest is probably the only virgin hemlock-northern hardwood forest in New England with the hemlocks and sugar maples exceeding 400 years in age.
Old growth and tall (2nd growth) trees
Mohawk Trail State Forest is specifically known for its tall trees. A total of 612 acres (248 ha) of the state forest is classified as pre-settlement old growth by researchers.[4] Trees approaching 500 years in age have been confirmed. Most of the extremely old trees are Eastern hemlock. Other species reaching significant age include yellow and black birch, sugar maple, red spruce, and northern red oak. Specimens of examples of all these species exceed 300 years in age and numerous trees of a dozen species surpass 200 years. Trees over 150 years old in Mohawk are very common.
Maple trees can be tapped in various ways, and they all leave scars which can be seen for a time before enough new wood covers them. These scars often appear in angled lines around a tree, because each tree can be tapped multiple times without serious harm. The modern method uses a drill to make a round hole. Historically, Native Americans used a hatchet to cut a slot or V notch. So it is easy to tell at a glance which method has been used, because they leave scars of different shapes.
Very little silence remains in the modern world, so stepping into a quiet place is unusual.
The Massachusetts Bay Colony (1628–1691) played a major role in the European invasion of Turtle Island.
The Massachusett people have long lived in what is now called Massachusetts, although few remain in modern times. They include the Wampanoag tribe.
Slavery has a long history in Massachusetts.
You belong to a family clan and the leader of that clan is the clan mother, who's kind of the top elected grandma from each family clan. They actually have the final say in how our societies were run and are run today. In fact, our word for woman translates into English as, 'she who has final say', because of the clan mothers.”
uh oh
Date: 2021-10-04 01:18 pm (UTC)Re: uh oh
Date: 2021-10-04 02:02 pm (UTC)(I mean, it's the opposite of the "kill Hitler as a baby" debate. What is worth risking to stop devastation of that magnitude?)
I feel bad about some of that stuff, and my emotions are running on empathy, ethics, and a friendship that was a thing three centuries before I was born, instead of, like, actual cultural/biological decent from survivors.
Related, if this were set forty-fifty years later, I could provide resources for contemporary characters and ask for some of them to be rescued.
Hmmm...I wonder if the machine is from a different time stream? The machine and timekeeping measure doesnt seem to match the dominant culture here. Or perhaps the dominant culture collapsed in our timestream, and this is the new culture? It would be interesting to know if future!language is Indo-European....and if not, which language family it is from. If that was a commercial, the culture might be capitalistic...
Re: uh oh
Date: 2021-10-05 08:19 am (UTC)Exactly. When you know that your timeline included horrors, it's worth trying to improve that.
>> (I mean, it's the opposite of the "kill Hitler as a baby" debate. What is worth risking to stop devastation of that magnitude?) <<
One reason I like time travel fiction is because it tends to start such interesting ethical discussions.
>> I feel bad about some of that stuff, and my emotions are running on empathy, ethics, and a friendship that was a thing three centuries before I was born, instead of, like, actual cultural/biological decent from survivors. <<
Fascinating.
>> Related, if this were set forty-fifty years later, I could provide resources for contemporary characters and ask for some of them to be rescued. <<
:D
>> Hmmm...I wonder if the machine is from a different time stream? <<
Kind of. It actually does work a lot like a tunnel. Digging back is laborious, but once dug, travel is easy.
>> The machine and timekeeping measure doesnt seem to match the dominant culture here.<<
*laugh* Good point.
>> Or perhaps the dominant culture collapsed in our timestream, and this is the new culture? It would be interesting to know if future!language is Indo-European....and if not, which language family it is from. <<
It could be Indo-European. We're in the middle of a big shift right now. A hundred years from now, this will be incomprehensible to all but a few scholars, if there are any left.
>> If that was a commercial, the culture might be capitalistic... <<
It was indeed a commercial. I'm not sure about the economy, but they sell candy bars.
Re: uh oh
Date: 2021-10-05 05:18 pm (UTC)Thanks, but why? The cross-culture thing or the temporal distance thing?
I've had a handful of cross-cultural Odd Friendships, where I think we'd try to look out for each other in a mess. I think kids should be protected, and the friend managed it for my family, but so far as I know we didn't manage it in return and I don't know why. (The one kid I know of was sent into exile; I don't know if he had other children, though there may have been one who died before the war.)
And yeah, there are a lot of unpleasant things in American history, but for some reason I have emotions stuck on that small slice of history.
I'm reminded of that quote from A:TLA: "Do you think friendships can transcend lifetimes?." (And no, I don't expect anyone to ... 'deal with' my sentimentality; my emotions exist, but I'm trying not to spill them all over everything/one.)
>> :D <<
Checked my genealogy notes - it looks like the ancestor with the Odd Friendship was actually born in 1628, and would have arrived in the area a few years later (family came over on one of the early ships). There's a couple of interesting records re: legal stuff, jobs, etc. (I think the friend was a bit younger.)
Let me know if you want me to pass along some website references, or something.
>>Kind of. It actually does work a lot like a tunnel. Digging back is laborious, but once dug, travel is easy.<<
I was thinking more if time = a road, can we 'tunnel' only along the same road, or can we 'tunnel' to roads that split off ours? (Using modern American concept of time, because otherwise I'll get lost in my own analogy...)
>>*laugh* Good point.<
Hmmm... then again, maybe someone went back, either to rescue folks or to do an inverse time capsule of sorts? I can imagine time travel would be an excellent way to revive extinct/genocided cultures and the accompanying lost skills... and that would be one h*** of an action-adventure series, pardon my language! (I sooooo want to see this!)
>>It was indeed a commercial. I'm not sure about the economy, but they sell candy bars.<<
Hologram paper would indicate advanced manufacturing at least. Alternately, are we sure the wrapper and time machine are from the same timestream? Possibilities:
a) the machine can travel to different timestreams; and they got the candy bar from elsewhere
b) whoever made the machine comes from somewhere with at least two different cultures who have highly-advanced tech bases (think HP wizarding culture vs Muggle tech...or humans tech vs dolphin tech)
c) the time machine was built to be as Low Tech as possible to limit the hazards of breakages; the candy wrapper can have more fancy pizzaz, cause ain't no-one gonna die due to a glitchy ad.
Re: uh oh
Date: 2021-10-05 08:14 am (UTC)Time travel is often trouble. How much and what kind will depend enormously on the mode of travel. If you don't know, as these characters don't, then all you can do is guess -- and go on what you do know, which is your lived timeline and whatever else you know about history or quantum mechanics.
Faced with the possibility of averting genocide, what would you do?
I actually do know that it's possible to crack a universe with mishandled time tech. Not likely, but possible. And I would take that gamble, because ... wherever you go, that's where you are. There is only the now in its own moment. All else is possibility, what was and will be are other eddies in the stream of time. Countless worlds playing out the patterns. You can only ever touch the one you're in, right now. Most people can't even feel the linchpin moments as they happen, only see them in retrospect. It's an odd gift of mine to know them as they happen, and it changes the way I do things. So what if you undo the thread tying you to that timeline? At least you tried.
For the chance to prevent the deaths of 98% of Turtle Island's people, I'd throw those dice. Even if it wasn't one of my tribes I had access to -- well, it wouldn't be, the bridgeheads were on the east coast, and I never did spend a lot of time there. But familiar enough for going on with.
Re: uh oh
Date: 2022-08-07 10:42 pm (UTC)The interesting thing is that I expect you to *answer those questions*, which is why I'm off to read more. I don't know if it's possible to change the past, but you might be able to write a future where someone did...