stephen langton goulet:

These are works of satyrical fiction, products of my own thinking,
a release valve for when the 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
annual mythmatical

and

Daze of the Week

planet jupiter

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




Pages of History

hisstory, ink drawing, stephen langton goulet

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 and 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 crystalizes 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 crystalized into the echoes of that chamber.

At Science class, only a few decades ago, we were taught 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 frozen 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 now to hold vast oceans of water under their surfaces. Jupiter's moon Europa holds an ocean of water beneath a thick crust of ice, a dark vast sea, larger than all of Earths’ combined. An oceanic womb, floating billions of years between internal heat and frozen space. It may hold many surprises this Earths 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


After the Fall

halloween stacks, stephen langton goulet

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 spewing a foul cold soup down my leg and into a small opening in the top of my new left gum boot. 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 squish 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 on 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 a 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 millimetre 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




Martials Among Us

Mars


Transcript of OWV broadcast Oct 31 6:30 pm Central. Copyright 2007:


"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 2007.


slg 2006


stonesac
  stephen langton goulet
all rights reserved 
 rock a tier at hot meal dot calm


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