These
are works of satyrical fiction, products of my own thinking, a
release valve for when Din and Wail overwhelm all sense of Reason.
Names used are fictitious, unrelated
to any persons known, soon to be known, unknown, living, dead or yet
to be born.
Pages
of History
After
the Fall
Martials
among us!
StoneSac
unsungsongs
and
Daze
of the Week
I
was wondering about the source of the seven day week the other day
because I'm interested in numbers and in how different cultures
measure things such as the passage of Time. I've assumed the seven
day week is universal, at least on this Planet. The first thing I
wondered was, why seven? The only month whose days are a multiple is
February and then only three out of four times. There had to be a
better reason so I set off one day in search of one.
According
to Genesis, the first chapter of the Bible, 7 days came about because
the World was created in 6 days and on the 7th day Heaven rested. Our
week has been set up to echo Creation over and over again. We are
advised to rest for one day and toil for six. I was curious why the
one day of rest is not spelt Sonday in keeping with the J.C. (Judeo
Christian) model so i went and looked it up.
Sunday as it
turns out, is named after our Star, the very same spark we were all a
part of at one time or another. It is an Olde English (O.E.)
designation, Sunnan Daeg, day of the Sun, which arises from the
Roman, Dies Solis, day of the Sun. Sun worship has been around for a
long time. The Egyptians venerated it above all else as Ra (radium,
radish, radical). They may have even called it Raday for a time.
I
began to wonder why a J.C., 7 days of Creation, main Daeg got itself
named after a Pagan God. It would have been so easy to change it to
Sonday while everyone else was toiling.
My curiosity roused,
the very next day was Monday, which i’d always assumed was
short for Money Day because that's the first thing people rush back
to make more of after the Day of the Big Rest. Alas, i was found
misinforming again. It is in fact named after the Moon. Can anyone
explain why, with a solar system littered with big round moons of
various composition, we would name ours "the" Moon? Sheer
lunacy. Moon literally means month as the lunar cycle is completed
every 29.53 days, a fairly close average to 1/12th of the year.
Monday, the second day of the week, from the O.E. designation, Monan
Daeg, is a translation of the Latin, Lunae Dies, day of the Moon. The
ancient Egyptians noticed a time relation between ocean tides, the
phases of the Moon and menstruation, the female cycle. They formed a
secret society called Mensa which exists to this daeg and apparently
always holds its’ meetings on Monday.
I almost quit
there but something about the name Wednesday caught my attention
because it is unusual and gives no clue to it's meaning other than
Weddings Day which, from my observation, would be absurd as there are
so few of them on that day.
Patience was required however
because Tuesday stood in the way and I had to admit, I was stumped on
this day too. Who guessed it was named after Mars, the God of War? I
looked it up and even though Wars are started on any and every day of
the week, Peace Treaties are never signed on Tuesday. Those Olde
English knew it as the Day of Tiw after their War God, "Tiw
Much". This was a transferred translation from the Latin, Dies
Martis, Mars Day. More Mars bars are sold on Tuesday than any other
day of the week.
At last came Wednesday. How many want to
spell it Whensday, as in, "when's it Friday?” Turns out
the peak of the week day is named after Woden, or Odin, the Norse
Supreme Being. Latin relegates it to Mercury, Mercurii Dies, the
Messenger, God of commerce, eloquence and skill; patron of travelers,
merchants and thieves. Who knew thieves had a patronic god or that it
was the very same god for merchants? Originally the Egyptians called
him Thoth, the god of wisdom, inventor of mathematics, science, art
and letters. Apparently calling Wednesday Thothday would have
confused it too much with the day following.
I've always
believed Thursday was named after Thor, the brooding, fierce Norse
thunder god. It's actually a cross between O.E. and Norse but is
translated from the Latin as Jovis or Jupiter the huge gas giant,
large Roman god of gods and men. Another Supreme Being Day!
Friday
is considered by many to be the most important day of the week
because we're all pretty well fried by then and looking forward to
that fast approaching Day of Rest. This one always throws me being
the only Day named after a woman. From the O.E. and Norse,
Frigidaeg, Frigg's Day as in, "I don't give a frig what time it
is, it's Friggsday. I'm going home". This is also a translation
from the Latin, Veniria Dies, day of Venus, the goddess of Love, from
where the more accurate expression "thank Goddess it's Friday"
would have originated, had correctness been as much of an issue back
then as it should be today.
Saturday, gods love it, could be
spelt Satyrday the way many spend it. The seventh day of the week,
coincidentally the Jewish Sabbath, comes from the Roman, Saturnus
Dies, day of Saturn. Not the car but the Roman god of agriculture,
Satus, which means to sow. Perhaps it's been mispelt after all. I
could find no source for the reason sowing is done on Saturday except
that once the seeds are in the ground there's very little to do but
relax and wait which brings us quite nicely back to the beginning of
next week and another well earned Day of Rest.
I find it
interesting that the Dies of the week are named after so many Deities
yet are founded on so called Judeo Christian numbers. The week is
laid out for us, a perpetual back beat through our daily lives. It
repeats over and over again without end or variation. Humans are
enslaved to the seven day cycle yet we so seldom question why we
count off the daegs as we do, why they repeat every seven, or when
they will ever get where they are going. Much like this
essay.
coming soon, the
Moonths of the Year!
slg 2002
Through mountain ranges and canyon walls countless chapters of Earths’ history lay exposed. Embedded in frozen silt, the stony boney remains of the once living appear like timeline markers in an illustrated book. A book of ghosts. Ninety eight percent of all Life that ever existed on this Planet is extinct yet She seems to be a Life machine even coaxing complex creatures from volcanic vents thousands of feet below the surface of the sea.
When
rock cools and crystallizes out of molten stew it records the
signature of Earths' magnetic field at the point of hardening.
Magnetic North has shifted countless times and even switched places
with Magnetic South at random points throughout Earths' history. The
poles can flip at any time, without warning. Someone with a
background in Physics might care to speculate what that will mean to
our ever expanding Electrosphere.
Thousands of years ago the
teeth of Tyrannosaurus Rex were held as irrefutable proof of the
existence of Dragons. After eyeballing one of those foot long
incisors close up, who could doubt the existence of such fearsome
beasts? With so many laying around, Earth could have been called Bone
and it would be as accurate. What is the design purpose of bodies
that last 75 years having bones that last for millions? Digging
through subsequent fire pits in a cave on the coast of South Africa
revealed one hundred thousand years of continuous human habitation;
fully 4000 generations of carbon, clamshells and fish bone. Imagine
the myths crystallized into the echoes of that chamber.
At
Science class, only a few decades ago, we were taught liquid Water
was one of the most rare elements in the Universe, and especially
rare in our own solar system, Earth having the only detectable
supply. As human vision improves, water is found everywhere out
there. Large deposits of ice are discovered within permanent shadow
zones of southern Lunar craters and within the top few meters of the
surface of Mars. Moons of the gas giants appear to hold vast oceans
of water under their surfaces. Jupiter's moon Europa contains a dark
vast sea, beneath a thick crust of ice, larger than all of Earths’
combined. An oceanic womb, churning for billions of years between
internal heat and frozen space, may hold many surprises our worlds
sea floor vents only hint at. Arthur C. Clarke intuited a Europan
ocean and it's potential in his novella "2010", based on
preliminary data from the Voyager probes.
At the centre of
the Earth is an iron crystal ball, the size of the Moon, spinning at
a slightly different rate than the surface. Iron, drawn from the
crust, is purified by the mantle and rains onto the surface of the
crystal which grows through time like an onion growing layers. Do all
the rocky planets have huge iron crystal spheres at their center?
Once the iron is used up, do their surfaces gradually dissipate
leaving only spinning glass marbles like gigantic mirrorballs, in
orbit around a star?
Above and below we are surrounded by
wondrous and amazing truths recorded a million different ways in the
Book of Earth. This is a Golden Age of discovery about our planet,
our solar system, the universe, ourselves. Turn the pages. There is
no difficulty seeing Earth is an ancient place full of mystery, nor
any reason not to believe Creativity had a hand in the mix. But a few
huge teeth do not a Dragon make, nor a few truths a satisfying
Theology. Humans are emerging from thousands of years of darkness.
The light is blinding, the vision not yet clear.
What's next
for the species? What waits on the other side of the veil?
slg
2000
I
went out to the field above 17 B.C. intending to retrieve a futile
election sign and remove the pumpkins from around my balanced
rock sculptures which
overlook the highway. Someone anonymously places several there after
almost every Halloween but never removes them. I arrived later than
usual this year confident I would earn an appreciative honk or two
from the passing cars below for finally cleaning the site up.
The
pumpkins were half grey mouldy and fell apart in my hands. As I
gingerly lifted the first one it split open and spewed a foul cold
soup down my leg into a small opening in the top of my new left
gumboot. I should have taken that as a sign.
All that remained
of the balanced rocks on the bluff was a single stone. Unlike the
others, which had toppled into the ditch, this one came to rest on a
once large and intricately carved squash. I reached to turn the stone
over, intending to wipe off the squishy bits and re-balance it, when
my low back snapped into a sudden agonizing spasm. I was immediately
helpless.
Half squatting in the morning drizzle, rotten
pumpkin slimy all over my hands and legs, I squinted at the
approaching cars on the highway below and realized they would not see
me here, even if they looked. I was the colour of granite, the tone
of grey mold; just another neutral bump on a cold wet bluff in the
rain.
The spasms quickened, radiating to fingertips and toes,
electric and icy cold and rain increased accordingly as pumpkin runny
fingers began to slide. Was now my time to melt away, cascade over
the business side of this slippery slope and disappear?
I
felt squishy and moldy, set to relinquish my own hapless gourd, this
broken shell of a life, yet dimly aware of a further nagging urgency.
It hammered at the edge of my will, or what little remained. I pushed
the intrusion away, thinking it just another phrase come to cheer me
up, some tidy cliché to help me on my way or worse, another
insipid little ditty attempting to surface; my own descending
score.
Both ankles throbbing with the strain, back screaming
to the breaking point, I would have wept but I knew tears would only
add to an already saturated scene. As one more finger slipped loose I
prepared to yell, "Screw Balance!!", a pre planned epithet
for my epitaph, when the tapping in my skull reminded me, there was
one more thing left to do.
I could see this turning into one
grim afternoon for some poor cyclist finding me mooshed among
decomposing pumpkins half buried in mud. Grimmer still would it be
for the ambulance guys and the cops and the teevee camera operators
and their grips but especially grim for one cub reporter who drew the
short straw and would surely be bent over in the rain a few hours
from now hurling the entire contents of her recently enjoyed bag
lunch onto what was left of me and rotting pumpkins in the ditch.
I
knew all that and perhaps a few more things besides but the most
important thing I knew was, I would rather hang forever in oozing
pumpkin hell
than have some gawking family cruise by, kids half
out the window with the fat one yelling, "Look Dad, the fool’s
even pissed his pants! ", and Dad yelling back, "Hit the
zoom Marty! "
That was not going to happen.
I had
to go and going meant crawling up that slippery slope and finding a
discrete place to go.
Before setting out I was compelled to
balance the only remaining stone. It lay there on on its gory pumpkin
bed daring me to finish what i came there for. The resulting balance
was precarious enough. The piece gave a somewhat jaunty pose; a lone
survivor perched in the misty morning light dripping grey ooze.
I
began to millimeter my way back up the bluff. At the instigation of a
near bursting bladder, between waves of lumbar spasm and that insipid
little ditty from nowhere, i combined their cadence to propel my body
slowly forward. Of course, upon arrival, after finding relief in a
nearby thicket, the day took on a whole new perspective. I painfully
reached for the suddenly useful election sign. It would serve as cane
or flag to wave should I fall in that field or lose my way in the fog
and hobbled off, thankful for the lean, through drizzly rain and
sticky mud back to my truck, only realizing after I'd left that no
one honked.
slg 2003
Transcript:
OWV broadcast Oct 31 6:30 pm Central. Copyright 2011:
Welcome
back.
If you’ve just joined us, this is One World Views
and I’m your host, Marion Trombleu.
It’s been a
disquieting, indeed a terrifying time with many sleepless nights as
wave after wave of consequence wash away the familiar foundations of
our world. The talk sins, Rumour and Denial, shroud Truth and
Compassion in a poison fog of fear but we will get through this. Here
at OWV every effort has been made to present the facts as we know
them and to provide you with a beacon of reason and refuge while
land, sea and sky go mad around us.
Now the latest news and
its’ impact on the present situation:
Analysis of
One Worlds’ Global Survey is complete. Our deepest fears are
confirmed. The Brief, “Martials among us! A Worse Case
Scenario”, presented yesterday to an unruly General Assembly,
rendered the entire Forum mute for 41 minutes, a record for the week!
As many of you now know a Global Census was set in motion
following the Earth rattling discovery at Kasei Vallis last year.
Ancient scrolls revealed meticulous plans for a massive invasion from
our neighbouring Planet. When the artifacts were determined to be at
least ten thousand years old researchers quickly realized the planned
attack must have already occurred. If true, and there was no record
to be found here on Earth, they reasoned it had either failed or the
invaders were assimilated and long since forgotten from whence they
came.
One World Survey had an ambitious purpose. Under the
auspices of a global poll on Climate Change, utilize the world wide
web and determine if any trace of alien presence remains among us.
Pollsters scanned 60% of populations in over fifty first, second and
third world Nations; unprecedented in scope for an international
survey.
As you will see, artifacts and the chambers where they
were discovered provided valuable insights into an alien mind set.
Census questions were carefully designed to coax it to the surface.
Sprinkled among Climate Change queries were several common sense,
factual observations such as: Collaboration is more efficient than
Competition, “Wing” governments are incompetent, Violence
perpetuates ideological conflicts, etc. Subjects were simply
asked if they agreed or disagreed with the statements.
From
the Reports’ Conclusions:
- Nearly one
third of the worlds population has been found to be typically close
minded, uncompromising, self serving,
narcissistic, ideological and often angry. Once their minds are made
up they are intellectually incapable of processing
new or contrary information.
- In
light of the Kasei “Blank Trowel” discoveries they
represent a separate species designated, “h. martialis”.
Martials.
Professor James Henry de Bloor, co-director of One
Worlds’ investigation explains:
"Their
Hippocampus, the central core processor of the brain if you like, is
wired differently from the rest of us. Frankly, while a few people,
writers mostly, suspected something amiss, the rest of us were kept
so preoccupied dealing with increasingly unmanageable social systems,
we were unable to recognize what is now obvious.
Martials are
spread randomly throughout the general population. No significant
movement toward major organization appeared in recent history, that
is until the last few decades. Without the Internet and the Blank
Trowel, Kasei Valles revelations last Fall we never would have
recognized a pattern.
Martial influence blossoms at roughly
the same time throughout the world every 123 years on average or
about five generations. The trigger is a cyclical increase in
aggression inducing hormones produced by their endocrine system. At
regular intervals Martials migrate to each other forming tight bonds
whose sole purpose is to gain control of larger organizations within
whatever social structure they find themselves."
de Bloor
elaborates: Martials represent slightly more than 33% of the total
population. Their lack of empathy occurs because incoming factual
information bypasses the frontal lobe and is sent directly to the
limbic bulb, that most primordial organ atop the spinal chord.
Complex input challenges an individual in ways that require
sophisticated operations within the neo cortex for processing and
solving before being acted upon. The limbic system, as first arbiter
of all higher thought processes, works admirably well for a turtle
whose world is complex but whose choices are limited. In a higher
consciousness, such as the endlessly curious primates, it’s
bound to find itself internally conflicted by the profound challenges
of a benign and open environment.
Some Martials find it
impossible to integrate, even during the peak of their cycle. They
don’t get along well with others, not even their own kind.
Unable to join a group or an organization driven by Martial ideology
they revert to a life of bullying and petty tyranny. Where the
average person feels compassion and empathy the Martial feels
indifference."
This is not unprecedented, advises the
professor. One hundred thousand years ago there were four distinct
species of Homo sharing the Savannahs, although of course now no one
knows if any of them arrived from another World.”
Marion
Trombleu: "Thank you Professor de Bloor
Upon hearing the
results of One Worlds’ survey local Government and Business
leaders stated emphatically there would be no mass testing of their
customers or constituents. Blank Trowel discoveries notwithstanding,
to a man they refused the Martial Poll. Others were more combative,
claiming results were skewed by aberrant weather patterns over the
study area and from Professor de Bloors’ implacable faith in
facts and reason. They also declined to participate in the survey.
Demands for mandatory testing of all government officials and
upper level management personal are reaching fever pitch.
Ethno
archaeologist, Dr Anne Carmine, Director of the internationally
acclaimed Blank Trowel Group, has been studying the Martial Osmosis
since Earth shaking evidence for it was discovered on Mars early last
year. Dr Carmine joins the discussion via satellite link from the
research vessel, Fifth Rock, in Mars orbit."
Dr Anne
Carmine: “Long ago Earth held only “Humanes”. We
chose the name because pre invasion Homo Sapiens, like Erectus before
them, were a curious and compassionate race. They moved through the
world in a state of harmony relying on the laws of fact and reason
and never forgetting the consequences to those who don’t.
Collaboration as an art form was perfected in that great age.
Highly
competitive, fiercely aggressive Martials on the other hand possess
an intense self interest and a profound mistrust of Nature.
Conditions on Mars are harsh. Life huddles deep in caves and cracks
beneath a blistered landscape. Limited resources meant populations
couldn’t expand beyond a certain amount. Martials bred for
intense competition in one of the most inhospitable ecosystems on the
inner Planets. Iron clad rules and a ruthless hierarchy were their
only defence. They had to hate their world to survive it. Empathy
would have doomed them.
Natives of a benign world are hard
wired for cooperation. They discover early how sustaining a
bountiful environment with many hands makes for light work. Humanes
made their mark by leaving none."
Dr Carmine gestures to
the notorious documents glistening on the wall screen
opposite:
"Grande Martial graphite scrolls,
recovered from an ancient subterranean complex under the northern
slopes of Kasei Vallis, reveal a race grown weary of relentless
struggle beneath the surface of a wretched land. Turned to observing
the night sky for distraction they soon cast anaemic eyes on plump
blue Earth and made their plans.
Martial technology was slow,
loud and smelly but it got the job done. Infiltration of Earth took
nearly five hundred years but their timing was perfect. The great ice
sheets were in retreat, Humane populations low and spreading with the
melt. They arrived expecting to be revered but instead found
themselves feared and avoided. For thousands of years Martial fought
and conquered Humane throughout the world, enforcing elaborate and
authoritarian rules, demanding total fealty.
Martials intended
to overcome the persuasive effects of cooperation and compassion but
the hard wiring in both species proved resilient and they would not
blend. Rather than evolving fully into a “one mind” race
after ten thousand years it remains either/or. No one can predict if
the next child born will be Martial or Humane."
Anne
Carmine cautions: "It’s been this way for eons and there
is no going back. Martials changed our history, our destiny and yes,
slowed us down in so many ways but I wonder if this won’t
somehow make us stronger in the long run. After all, now we know we
were never alone. These two species, so suddenly made aware of each
others existence, must learn to cooperate and prepare for the day
when others come, far stranger than even our own solar system can
imagine.”
That’s not good enough!”,
declares Robert Newberry, Plant Psychologist and spokesperson for the
global grassroots organization, “Send a Martial Back to Mars!.
Marion Tromblue: “In less than two weeks,
“Marsback.org” has become the fastest growing Net based
mass movement in history. Robert Newberry asserts One Worlds’
Global Census is confirmation that Martials fled Mars and invaded
Earth with the sole intention of enslaving Humanes and pillaging the
Planets resources."
Newberry explains what drove him to
sponsor immediate mass deportation: “Mars is a small world
where the horizon is always curved. Everything here looks flat to
their eyes. Our sky frightens them on some fundamental level. Martian
gravity is far weaker than Earths. They’re unable to lift 3000
kilos or run ten kilometers in 3 minutes no matter how much they
believe they should be able to. It must be extremely frustrating.
Many Martials spend their entire lives in a state of seething rage.
In the thin atmosphere of Mars they could speak in a normal voice and
be heard for miles. Here they have to yell constantly. It’s had
an adverse effect on their hearing.”
Robert Newberry
points to a clock: “The day is 41 minutes longer on Mars.
They cram 41 minutes more conniving and pillaging into the day than
we do. Is it any wonder we can’t keep up? In spite of all their
advantages, after ten millennium, Martials constantly demand more yet
remain sullen and dissatisfied. Their bleak ideology was used to
domesticate our species, even our entire world. They are immune to
the beauties and wonders of Earth. It’s wasted on them. Just
look how they’ve wasted it. They should just go home and the
sooner the better!
If someone won’t take the Martial
survey that’s a clue to who they are but not proof in and of
itself. A true Martial believes their superior ideology will overcome
any Humane test. Limbic brainstem probes are the only sure way
of knowing who’s who. Airport and Bank scanners will identify
large numbers and I’ve got something to say to the rest.”
Newberry leans into the microphones: “Anyone who
believes the ecosystem is not being severely compromised by greed and
apathy put up your hand. Now put up your other hand. Everyone with
your hands up slowly move in an orderly fashion to the exit and board
the waiting buses. You will be escorted to the spaceport and boosted
into orbit immediately. Voyages to Mars depart seven days a week from
the International Space Transition Facility. Have a nice flight!”
Marion Trombleu: “Thank you Robert Newberry. Kurang
Atobitone, chair of the newly formed, UN based, “Committee to
Set Things Right”, is equally frank."
Monsieur
Atobitone: “There have been ten thousand years of pain and
suffering inflicted on native Humanes and upon our Planet, the
previous two thousand being particularly brutal. Insatiable Martials
use up the lives of millions of our people annually merely for the
realization of grande schemes. They have very nearly exhausted
Earths’ resources in the process. Individually they wreak havoc
on families and communities. Without One Worlds’ survey, the
Internet and of course the Blank Trowel discoveries, we would have
continued uninterrupted on our downward spiral of ignorance and
bondage perpetrated by an ideologically recalcitrant species. We must
be forgiven for not seeing them sooner. They’ve been so very
good at making us believe we are the problem.“
Marion
Tromblue: "Thank you Mr Atobitone. What promises to be the most
expensive planned migration in history has some major economic side
benefits. Super computer analysis has determined savings to the
ecosystem alone could top a trillion euros per week after only 16%
relocation!
Timing for the discovery of the Martials among us
could not be better. Mars is a well read planet. NASA and Russia have
planned for years to colonize and the infrastructure is close to
completion. It’s long been a dream of the US President and now
we know why. The burgeoning global space program is the end result of
an unconscious yearning to go home. Distant schemes of conquest
lay in ashes over the plains, hills and seas of a once bountiful
planet, one very nearly brought to the edge of mass extinction by the
machinations of a truly hapless species.
Small numbers of
Martials expressed relief for finally knowing the cause of their
displacement anxiety and for the anger and loathing that drove so
much of their earthly lives. Most didn’t give a damn one
way or the other.
Returned to their Source they will find no
Reason and nothing Humane. Happy at last.
This is Marion
Trombleu for One World Views.
"Sleep well tonight."
End Transcript: OWV
broadcast: Oct 31 6:30 pm Central: Copyright 2010.
slg 2006
There
is something remiss in the calender. The one we use every day. The
one we teach our children to live by. While a geometric shape with
eight sides is called an octagon and a sea creature with eight legs
an octopus, the tenth month is named October. September, meaning
“seventh month” is in ninth place. Nov translates as nine
yet November’s position is eleven. A metric world pretends an
exception for December, the twelfth month.
Measurement systems
change as cultures evolve. Original meanings and emphasis erode over
time. Words and names describing actual things become obsolete, like
the foot.
A brief calendric
history:
Originally the Roman calendar had 10 months; Martius
(named after Mars and indicating the time for resumption of war),
Aprilis (after the word for 'to open', hence Spring), Maius (after
Maia, the goddess of growth), Junius (after juvenis, meaning youth),
Quintilius, Sextilis, Septembris, Octobris, Novembris and Decembris
(meaning the fifth to tenth months).
King Numa increased the
number of months to 12, introducing Januarius (after the two faced
god Janus, the protector of doorways and hence the opening (and
closing) of the year) and Februarius (after Februalia, the time for
sacrifices at the end of the year). The order of the months was later
changed. In order to reconcile the solar and lunar years, at the
recommendation of Sosigenes, Julius Caesar altered the lengths of the
months and the change to our present format was completed by Caesar
Augustus. They both claimed the names of one of the months and this
gave rise to Julius and Augustus which replaced Quintilius and
Sextilis. (Source: National Maritime Museum, Royal Observatory,
Greenwich)
By now the names of the months are imbedded in the
collective psyche. Each one conveys a full spectrum of memory and
emotion especially in the mid northern latitudes where seasons are
distinct. In the southern hemisphere seasons are reversed but the
months are not, placing June at the beginning of winter. One system
applies for all yet the words have opposite meaning depending on
where they are used. This is a custom from Empire and should be
amended to reflect true global awareness.
It may seem a
simplistic and obvious truth but when a society’s agreement to
accept a fiction is so complete it is never considered, what else
might go unchallenged? When basic untruths form the foundations of
institutions, guiding principles lose their credibility. Teaching
children, who notice such things, to make believe a number or a word
is only true in certain instances causes a mistrust of numbers and
the suspicion words can and will be changed for other purposes.
Still, you hear the arguments: “How could something so
ingrained ever be altered?”, “It’s a low harm, mis
truth, like calling indigenous people “Indians” even
though most of them have never been there.”, or even, “If
there was anything better we’d be using it.”
Some
might prefer to keep the eight named months, give names to the other
four and dispense with their faux numbers entirely. September could
be Sweptember as autumn sweeps in and leaves are swept up. October
transposes to Rocktober as the foliage dies back and rocks are
exposed. November effortlessly becomes Snowember as the snow begins
in Earnest and a lot of other places as well. December turns nicely
into Icember as ponds freeze and ice crystals decorate trees, fences
and houses. Colduary and Fedupuary follow the theme so naturally they
could not be excluded.
As amusing as this is, it makes more
sense in a complex world to opt for efficiency and simply designate
numbers for months however it’s not so easy to capture that
Spring rush from the number 5. Unless you really know the number 5,
the base of the Golden Section. ( 5 to the power of point 5, times
point 5, plus point 5 equals 1.61803399, phi, the Golden Section.)
“Phive” and its’ geometry is reflected a thousand
different ways within any Spring garden.
The calender year of
365 days divides naturally into 5 equal parts of 73, (the 21st prime
number, 7 x 3 = 21). It isn’t possible to add another season
without upsetting the natural order however it is possible to add the
fifth block of 73 days by dividing it into 8 sections then
positioning one at the beginning and one at the ending of each
season. Surrounding the solstices and equinoxes with a number of
special days invites possibilities for seasonal celebrations,
festivals, even fasting.
The following sequence illustrates
one possible version:
Sept 21 + 9
days + 73 days = Dec 12 + 9
days = Dec 21 winter = 91 days
Dec
21 + 10 days + 73 days = Mar
14 + 7 days = Mar 21
spring = 90 days
Mar 21 + 10
days + 73 days = Jun 12 + 9 days
= Jun 21 summer = 92 days
Jun 21 + 9
days + 73 days = Sept 11 + 10
days = Sept 21 autumn = 92 days
= 38
= 292
= 35
= 365 days, (3 x 6 x 5
= 90)
A fully numeric system makes perfect sense. 73 days is
1/5th of the year. Designated as “reflective” days they
would belong solely to the individual. Here are eight opportunities
during the course of a year to pause and contemplate Life’s
intricate movement. As our minutes and days fall away we would
transit “reflectzones” at a slower rate than the regular
73 day cycle. Less by the ticking of the clock, more through
awareness of the eternal celestial Spinner weaving huge diversity
within the steady pulse of the Seasons.
To be fair and equal
the end of the year in the Southern hemisphere should occur in June,
the month of their winter solstice. Retracting the calender six
months and reversing it puts the order right:
Here
~ There
jan ~
may
feb ~ apr
mar
~ mar
apr ~
feb
may ~ jan
jun
~ dec
jul ~
nov
aug ~ oct
sep
~ sep
oct ~
aug
nov ~ jul
dec ~ jun
Passing
over the equator would mean simple seasonal shifts where month
precisely reflects time of year. In addition, the sublime coincidence
of sharing March and September while our seasons move in opposite
directions adds a previously untapped harmonic to hemispheric
interconnections. We are living in a age when computers can instantly
adopt these simple changes. Less adaptive humans will take longer but
eventually it will prove no more a challenge than passing through
multiple time zones while traveling latitudinally.
The
24 hour clock is another daily fiction apparently more useful than
the truth. Earth rotates once on average every 23 hours 56 minutes.
If the average rate was exactly 24 hours Sol would rise and set at
the same time every day and there would be no opportunity to change
anything. As it is now, February 29 almost makes up for the
difference every four years.
23h x 60m + 56m = 1436 minutes,
(1 x 4 x 3 x 6 = 72, the pentagonal degree), is how long the day is
and the admonishment to “make every minute count” also
means “count every minute”. A day, mirroring the four
seasons, may be divided into prime number quadrants: 1436/4 = 359
minutes, (the 72nd prime), one minute shy of 6 hours. Instead of
adding minutes as the day unfolds they would be subtracted, with the
emphasis placed on how many are left. One would know intuitively what
remains of their day without having to do the math.
There is
something derelict about the way we define the clock and calender;
something of old Scrooge in our ingrained Northern bias forcing half
the globe to celebrate Christmas in the middle of Summer. The only
linguistically neutral way to mark time is numeric! A comprehensive
world system would dramatically increase the efficiency of the global
economy by providing common agreement for all the measurements of
Time.
A clock and calendar based on minutes, days, fifths and
quarters. Time demarcated by what’s left. Two hemispheres
living in their own time and in harmony with their polar opposites.
Is it such a sacrifice to abandon crumbling sign posts and archaic
yardsticks when we arrive at a place they no longer guide but only
sow confusion? Sol and Terra were spinning Seasons long before Humans
learned the numbers that mark their turning. Since then we’ve
invented countless timepieces because we needed to but we are no
longer bound to metaphoric systems that display neither rhythm nor
rationality.
The seasons were named for a reason, to express
in one word the full spectrum of all they contain. Certain numbers
delineate the rise and fall of our lives in concert with the ebb and
flow of Earths’ transit through the cosmos. Acknowledging their
role in our daily and yearly existence means accepting our role in
their perennial purpose. Measurement systems founded on accuracy,
efficiency and elegance are the cornerstone of any successful
Culture.
Isn’t it about Time?
the
lix unit
slg 2006
stephen langton goulet
all
rights reserved
c
o n t a c t
