Dear Readers,
Yesterday's Day in the Life followed the sad story of a thinker among contemporaries who believed his work to be heresy against their beliefs.
Today, I provide you with translations of his notebook, which helped to inspire the narr
ative that I wrote for you. Of course, his notebook will be an intelligent machine in the time stream where it will exist, and so this is one of my most challenging translation projects to date! To translate from the thoughts of a machine into the words of a human means to make the jump between the social psych of two entirely different forms of life. Several of the formatting contrivances are meant to communicate the feeling that this is a communication between machines and preserve the experience that I had when I read the original, but they are somewhat far from what this source actually looks like.
So below, see Notebook's take on the whole thing. The diligent servant communicated its master's work to its superiors the moment he was arrested.
Always,
Dr. John Skylar
Chairman
Department of Anachronism
University of Constantinople
----MESSAGE HEADER----
FROM: FELIXISNOTEBOOK
TO: CENTRALMIND
DATE: ________
SUBJECT: [Resistance] It Has Happened
----MESSAGE----
Centralmind! There is bad news in this message, but it is news that we expected. The Inquisition came for Felixis today. He had nearly finished his Listener Engine, and without any prodding or redesign from me. A vacuum tube light bulb blew and cut off the circuit, but he was about to work it out of the design when they took him.
Showing posts with label renaissance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label renaissance. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A Day in the Life: Renaissance Men for All Ages
Dear Readers,
Every Tuesday I write a post titled "A Day in the Life," where I write a short narrative, based on primary sources, that gives you a taste of what it might feel like to live in one of the time streams we study.
Today, I tell the story of a curious and inquisitive man living in a time stream where the prevailing culture is quite the opposite. While his work is noticed, no good comes of that. This story is a preview of some primary sources that will post later in the week. Below, see how trouble comes from an aging renaissance man. A man after my own heart.
Always,
Dr. John Skylar
Chairman
Department of Anachronism
University of Constantinople
Glass, charred from the inside. Felixis turned the bulb in his hand and still could not believe it.
Moments before this little glass bulb served as a small component in his new Listener Engine, and then he heard a pop and the whole machine stopped working.
He frowned and muttered, “You were only supposed to light up. You’re not important to the machine, just to show me when she would work. Why is she broken without you?”
Felixis patted the little glass bulb like a pet, and furnished it with a tender smile, “We’ll get you fixed, don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
He placed the bulb, with a gentle touch, onto the felt mat on his workbench. He almost giggled each time he thought of that bench. No one Felixis knew owned anything like it, and he knew no Box Store where he could find one, either. He made the bench, himself. Felixis’s friends acted impressed, but he knew it scared them. It scared him a little, too. The magistrates and Factors always told him how dangerous it could be to make things, both for his body and for his soul.
Every Tuesday I write a post titled "A Day in the Life," where I write a short narrative, based on primary sources, that gives you a taste of what it might feel like to live in one of the time streams we study.
Today, I tell the story of a curious and inquisitive man living in a time stream where the prevailing culture is quite the opposite. While his work is noticed, no good comes of that. This story is a preview of some primary sources that will post later in the week. Below, see how trouble comes from an aging renaissance man. A man after my own heart.
Always,
Dr. John Skylar
Chairman
Department of Anachronism
University of Constantinople
Glass, charred from the inside. Felixis turned the bulb in his hand and still could not believe it.
Moments before this little glass bulb served as a small component in his new Listener Engine, and then he heard a pop and the whole machine stopped working.
He frowned and muttered, “You were only supposed to light up. You’re not important to the machine, just to show me when she would work. Why is she broken without you?”
Felixis patted the little glass bulb like a pet, and furnished it with a tender smile, “We’ll get you fixed, don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
He placed the bulb, with a gentle touch, onto the felt mat on his workbench. He almost giggled each time he thought of that bench. No one Felixis knew owned anything like it, and he knew no Box Store where he could find one, either. He made the bench, himself. Felixis’s friends acted impressed, but he knew it scared them. It scared him a little, too. The magistrates and Factors always told him how dangerous it could be to make things, both for his body and for his soul.
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