“I am sick, old, and tired,” said Anuniaq, “honor me now by putting me on a great ice mountain and letting me go to sea. I would see the ocean again before I die.”

“Oh NO! honored one!” cried the Others, “Do not say such things.  We never tire of your wisdom.  Do not deprive your family of your knowledge.”

“Phah,” said Anuniaq, disgusted, “I have told those stories so many times that I have forgotten to believe them myself.  Your young poets correct me when I exaggerate and remind me when I forget.  Let me walk the white road as my fathers did before me.”

“Father Anuniaq, may it never be,” said the Others, “From you we learned to sail, we learned the ways of the sea and the waters great and small.  We would not know how to make the simplest coracle but for your teaching.  Do not leave us without your knowledge.”

Anuniaq replied, “If that were so, perhaps I would have to suffer on, but it is not!  Why the youngest among you can make for themselves any number of craft better than anything I could ever make.  Would you have me suffer for no reason?  Let me at least be a man on the last day of my life.”

The argument went on and on, but though the Others had surpassed Anuniaq in wisdom and knowledge and craft and hunting and wind knowing and wave reading none could surpass him in stubbornness.  So it was that Anuniaq sat upon the great back of a sea going ice mountain.

For days they had given him gifts which lay piled around him and they kept bothering him, pestering him with questions they knew the answers to and begging him to stay with them.  His guts hurt more now then ever they had before and he guessed his time was short.

“It is well,” thought Anuniaq, “I have lived a good life, At last I can die in peace as my ancestors did.”  He sat and watched the clouds slide by overhead, but this was fairly boring, he had to admit it.  He imagined that there aught to me something more to this going to sea for the last time.

“Phah!” he said to the world in general, “They spoiled it with all their gift giving, and “oh don’t go Grandfathering”, and their goings on have made a mess of what should have been a meaningful and dignified end.

Instead of dead he was just cold.  They had made him an ice seat so he wouldn’t have to lie down where he couldn’t see the world go by.  But just like them, all it was giving him was a cold pain in the ass.  Pretty soon Anuniaq was shivering.

He sighed heavily. “There must be a cancer in my gut, the way it twisted at me, Oh, to be done with that pain.” Anuniaq thought, “Indeed, why would you torment an old man with feasting who’s guts were ruined with cancer? Oh they didn’t care about him, just the idea of him.”

“It wasn’t their fault really. He had enjoyed the feasting and a bit too much to tell the truth. It was just that this dying thing would be a lot more dignified if he didn’t have to get up and go purge his canker riddled bowels again.” He staggered to his feet, not just cold, but he was wet now. “Would the humiliation ever end?” He tottered off to find a new place to empty himself.

On his way back he dug through the gifts and found a fine seal skin to wrap around himself while his breeches dried. In his explorations he also found more of the wonderful stuffed leaves boiled in sauce and so full of wonderful goodness he could not resist eating them until they were gone. They were his favorite, even cold. Well fed he returned to his ice throne.

He could see now where the wetness had come from. His body, sitting as it had for so long and on such a remarkably warm day, had melted the seat of his throne. Well, there were wraps and gifts of embroidery and this and that enough so that he piled up a fine lot of them and had many more to cover himself while he watched the sun descend into the sea.

“Perhaps this moment is much more the sort of thing one ought to see before he goes.”  Thought Anuniaq.  He watched the sun die in fire, setting the whole of the sky alight with red and gold.  He was well pleased to see the stars come out after that and He watched the moons rise as well before nodding off to sleep.

He awoke in sweat and agony.  “Oh mercy, why could he not have died with that marvelous sunset.” He ran off a ways and spilled his bowels, glad that he wore a skin around his waist and not his breeches. After that he felt a bit better.

*  *  *

“Surely he was cursed.  He had been stranded on the damn ice-flow for a week now.  The blue skies and fluffy clouds had been boring that first whole day alone, but that was as nothing to day after day of nothing but sun and his chair.  Worse, now, he had eaten anything even remotely edible among his gifts days ago.  He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it,” Anuniaq thought.

Anuniaq pondered, “Would it be better to starve or freeze?” For the hundredth time he rummaged through the things strewn around his ice chair, though there were hides aplenty there was not enough other material to form a frame. Even if there was he had nothing to grease the joinings. “And nothing, nothing, nothing to eat,” fussed Anuniaq.

 Defeated, Anuniaq slumped in his skin covered ice throne.  He gazed out over the sea, quiet and boring really, it was nearly still from his ice flow to the horizon beneath the clear blue of the sky. “There were very slight whispy clouds far off, perhaps some interesting weather would come his way.  Likely rain to add misery to his bordum.  There was also something else at the very horizon. 

“That’s a sail!” shouted Annuniaq, leaping to his feet on his ice throne.  And surely as he could feel a slight breeze pressing against his face, low on the horizon rose a boat, sails full of that whisper of a breeze. 

It’s approach seemed interminable, but at last a very fine sloop rigged wooden boat drew up and hailed him.  When Annuniaq shouted who he was there was a great furor aboard, a row boat was put out, and rowed to get him.

“What are you doing out on the ice Grandfather?” asked the Others. Annuniaq noticed that this group of his “children” avoided calling him “wise one”

 ”Oh, my people often do this,” lied Annuniaq. ”Haven’t I told you tales of great wandering by my folk on these mountains of ice?”

They all shook their heads, honest to a fault, “No. Never.”

“Ah, well you must have missed that night’s storytelling, because it is a good way to think and so common among my old people, the Ice-folk. Haven’t you wondered why we are called that? Surely you don’t think we are made of frozen water.” Annuniaq commented reproachfully. Slightly disturbed murmerings followed, drowned out by a loud rumbling from the region of Annuniaq’s empty stomach.

“Well none of that matters now,” said Annuniaq as he was hauled aboard the sloop. ”Do you have anything to eat?”

“Oh yes grandfather! We will bring you refreshment,” said the Others.

“That is well, then I can relate to you my thinkings and the way of my people, the Ice-folk… ” And so it was that a new tradition of the ice-folk was created that none of them, save Anuniaq, was aware, “  …say would you have some of those leaves stuffed with…”

“Humble apologies Grandfather”  

“ No? Well that’s probably for the best, come to think on it.”

This is not the first tale about Annuniaq (formerly Mamute) that could be told.  I will see if I can find some of what is already imagined to add to what is known about this character who figures into the westward expansion of the UiUilsen and their transformation into the folk called Wanderers whether they were found on the waters or on land as in the story of “The Man Who Forgot Himself.”

 In the story I will need a few Inuit names: The hero of the story (formerly Mamute) / Amak – tag (play), Annakpok – free (not caught), Anuniaq – one who hunts for food or knowledge, Illiivat — a person young or old who is learning something, Ipiktok – keen, sharp, Pakak — one that gets into everything,

Father’s Friend / Ataninnuaq– one who counsels/one who has lived and knows things, Illiivat – a person young or old who is learning something, Itigiaq — weasel, Nagojut — friendly, Oogrooq – bearded Seal, one who has a long life,

Hero’s remembered first love / Anana – beautiful, Iyaroak – apple of the eye, Buniq – sweet daughter, Nigaq – rainbow, Yuralria– dancing one

Work in Progress  –  Expect change

Re-thinking the Time Line  — I will need to work out some birth rates and distributions of different genetics.  The 2 and 5 womb duty is planned for honest randomness, but three factors work against the plan. 1) The original designer,  Bridgit Collins, is not there to administer it 2) Dana Bailey focuses on a pure Celtic breeding program for her core which forces the Sinoese and Russian reactions and 3) the ice-age causes technological losses.

-2   -   The great ship of the Gael sailed swift through the tightening grip of star light.  The Tuatha de Dana all slept.  Then ship master Bailey alone was awakened, he sensed the fearful threat.  The great tuath ship rushed above the clouds, toward the shores of the new country, Tir na Nua.  Looking ahead, it was barren of life, in chaos and storm, but the great magics of the Tuatha de Dana would put it right.

-1   -   With their far sight the Druids of the Tuatha de knew that there was a good land here.  What had seemed a clear in their seeing was made more difficult as they approached.  There were two lands that seem to be inhabitable.  One is sparse, a wasteland, but stable and at peace. The other seemed to be a fair land, but it was moon struck, star crushed, mountain whelmed, a great shaking of earth, a vast cascade of waters.  For the brave Celts it is ideal.

0   -   Driven by a fierce wind, Bailey took the steering oar and made to split the nine waves.  No doubt the landing place is rough and inhospitable, rocks on every hand, but the great oarsman god of the Tuatha de steered their ship through the nine waves.  Each wave roared its displeasure, each howled its resistance, each washed the deck in fury seeking to carry away the unwary.  So it was that the leech, Bridgit Collins, was carried away. In fear, three gods defy Bailey and fled to the quiet land.

Others would have lost heart, but ship master Bailey was undetered.  He mounted the nine waves and rode out the nine troughs to steer the great Tuath ship to rest upon the face of Tir na Nua between the great height of Slieb na Gael and the expanse of the Mountains of the West.   (DB 37 yrs.)

1   -   Then the Oak men blessed the land, the Druids of the Tuath de made formings and green places.  First the birch and the alder grew in the meadows of grass, then the willow held to the streams, then too the oaks set down roots and sacred woods were formed by the Oak men of Dana.  Then too salmon were brought forth and the red deer and swine roamed among the seedlings. In the West, in the fair plain away from the burning of the ship of the de Dana the wise men and stewards made a habitation for the Tuath.  Not to be outdone Dana herself births Llyr (1).

2   -   More and more the people of Dana go out on the plain with the craft of the druids, of the oak men. There grows food for man and for beast in abundance.  It is a pleasant land and children are born to the Tuatha de Dana.  (25 wombs four fold as they say, 100 at the end of the generation.

3  -  Lugh (2) is born.  He is remembered first for his many skills and that he did good.  (40 yrs. and he took up arms. I would lay my weapon there)

6   -   This is the way it was with the Tuatha de.  Each wife with her husband had a first born, but second, Dana gave a child.  The women bore this womb duty so that children of the gods were born.  Second and Fifth were borne as womb duty for the Tuatha de Dana.  But Dana favored the bright celtic stocks for her kings and queens.  Dana herself bare Brigid (3) not the betrayer who fled, this was the true born daughter of Dana herself.  Rus and Sinoese did not do their duty to the De Dana but selfishly made children of their own.  

8  -  Teutates (4) is born

9  -  Morrigan (5) is born. Difficult birth for DB.

11   -   Terra-forming party encounters All-Mind.  Interaction through dead party member causes alarm, sterilization.

12   -   Much time and effort is devoted to assessing and senario problem solving the issue of Alien life.  The All Mind withdraws and avoids contact and the violent reaction that usually follows.

13  -   Weyland, known as Loki (6) is born

16  -   Gwynn (7) is born.  Dana Bailey nearly dies in child birth, she is 53 years old.  Meds warn her that she can not carry anymore babies.

20  -   First generation of births begins to breed.  There will be about 100 pairs

19  -  Curious about DB’s special embryos and her upset that she can’t carry anymore, a bio-tech administering womb duty emplants one of the babies in the remotest host she can find, a terra-forming party member.  The Bio-tech is 17, a first generation Sinoese named Mitsuko.

20  -  Soon after birth, Tuan goes with his Norfolk family well away from DB and her Celts.

20  -  Llyr and Brigid are handfasted. It is clear that they are maturing at a different rate. Llyr is developing almost normally, but Brigid and Lugh both lag.

30  -  Most first gen families begun.  100 pairs will eventually yield about 400 pairs.

39  -  Capt. Baily dies at 84.

40  -  the first of the  Second Gen pairs begin to breed. Population nearing 250 individuals. * need to work out population expansion rate *

42   -   Rus attempt a take over of the colony, but are thwarted by Llyr (41) and his Gaellic military group.  Celtic security force formalized and Rus excluded from vital, technological, or military areas.

43  -  Weyland/Loki focuses his efforts on finding and exploiting mineral wealth.  He begins the exploitation of a giant extinct volcano and the surrounding foot hills. His mines and underground conveniences will be the basis of Sliebe na Gael.

45  -   Brigid finally reaches sexual maturity and a wedding is prepared. Lugh elopes with Brigid, but after a few weeks she is found and returned to Llyr. For his part Llyr has been a very strong advocate for Dana Bailey’s vision, but he is very upset by the elopement and Brigid’s dislike of him.  DB is extremely upset with Brigid too, she is ruining her plans for a Celtic godhead.

46  -  Brigid gives birth to Mannanan (Mac Llyr).  Having given Llyr an heir she rejects him.  DB and Llyr are both furious, Llyr coldly so.  He dissolves their bonding and seems likely to murder Brigid who seems willing to egg him on to that point.  DB removes Brigid to islands of the inner sea and begins to use her to birth more of her uber celts. 

49  -  Brigid gives birth to Epona (8)

50  - 

51  -  Brigid gives birth to Scota (9)

51  -  Slow developing Mannanan is finally weened and DB sends him to Llyr at his insistance.  Llyr is defacto leader of the colony, but very much at odds with his mother, DB. 

52  -  Same Sinoese biotech who planted uber-celt in a Norfolk family, Mitsuko, emplants one in herself.

52  -  A dispondent Brigid attempts suicide.  Hearing this Lugh, who has been avoiding Llyr, haunting the fringes of the world, makes his way to Eire and frees her.  Before she will leave she destroys the remaining super-celt embyos.  Lugh wants Brigid to roam with him, but she is angry with him almost as much as DB and Lir and goes off on her own.

53  -  Bio-tech’s uber-celt is born, named Kazuki.  Mitsuko is 51.

56   -   Success in Terraforming beyond all anticipation leading to wild lands.  A dedicated group of ecologists scramble to foster diversity/add elements to eco-systems.  This group will become the Norfolk also known as Briarwood elves, the Deer Riders, the Sidhe.

59  -  Warm seas and unusually active volcanism combine to initiate an ice age.  Ice builds rapidly at the North polar region.

63  -  Norfolk focus on trying to maintain biomes at the leading edge of the ice.  Their work groups range east and west of the colony.

65  -  Advancing ice forces colony to displace to the South. The original colony location is abandoned in favor of Mount na Gael.  Rus with some Inuit flee north onto the ice-sheet.  Llyr with his security forces pursue but are defeated by the ice and snow. 

66  -  Even limited access to old colony is lost to advancing super-glacier. Technology loss requires realignment of colony focus from expanding a technological society to bare survival.  Dana Bailey, mother of gods, driving force of the Celtic Colony dies at 103.

67  -  Llyr is in total control. He begins to overtly oppress non-Gaels.  He actually intentionally restricts the use of technology in favor of simpler agriculture and traditional crafts. 

70  -  Weyland/Loki establishes Western mountain mines so he can preserve some technological base and have a base of operations away from Llyr’s madness.

70  -  People (Umircens) begin to defuse out into the plains and east and west along the glacial face up to the Western Mountains and the disputed lands.

98  -  Sinoese defection (led by 96-year-old bio-tech Mitsuko who had an Uber-Celt baby, Kazuki) and Llyr’s response establishes a Warrior Aristocracy.  Opponents begin referring to Llyr as Balor a corruption of Bailey.

100  -  Scots establish colonies over the Yellow, but try to differentiate from Llyr (Balor) who is setting up camps to raid against Sinoese.

126  -  Llyr/Balor and his warrior aristocracy begin to oppress brown skinned folk.  Along with bringing in Sinoese as slaves he pressures and manipulates until all are reduced to servitude if not out right slavery.

145  -  End of gen 5 births, estimate 100,000 – 150,000 individuals.

158  -  Ice sheet reaches maximum and an extraordinarily warm summer begins rapid recession.

164 -  Diffusion out from Sliebe na Gael and Llyr/Balor’s privation continues. Chip Wilson finds his passage across the mountains.  Balor formally establishes slaver bases in the disputed lands to the sea.

173  -  Balor/Llyr’s permanent slave bases begin to raid Scots and even some in central Gaellic peoples.

175  -  First incursions of Darklings and Gobli in the disputed lands against Balor/Llyr’s permanent slave camps, his Fomorians.

176  -  Browns and Blacks defect to the South across the Freedom River. Not as well known is that Billy Two-Feathers leads an AmerInd and Umircen contingent into the mountains.

180  -  Great Darkling Wars begin in earnest.  Hordes empty Central Gael except for the Horse folk who will become the Scythians.

187  -  Darkling war high tide: only Mount na Gael, Scots wall, Fomorians at sea and in a few coastal forts, Horse folk (Scythians), Gaels who move out into the Oceanic Islands and south to become the Southern Gael and the Sinoese on their pinnacle forts remain.

This begins a rough first draft of a timeline for the world of the All Mind and the Celtic Colony world.

It is part of my nature or nurture that I am a sucker for a lost city story.  I believe that man has achieved heights that current thought would say is impossible.  Richard C. Hoagland can say there are cities on the Moon and Mars and I’m with him.

He thinks they might be the work of extra-terrestrials from distant star-systems or perhaps our fore-fathers who came to Earth after their stays elsewhere. Me? I think we started here and that if their are human habitations out there they were made by us. That is the us that made cities on Mars before we tumbled into the dark.

All that because I want to reveal the degree of my credulity.  Tonight on Coast was an interesting interview with an author and researcher, David Hatcher Childress  who looks into just that sort of thing and prepared as you are with my earlier admissions you can rest assured that I buy it all.

I wish I could buy a few of his books too. I DO love this stuff. Anyway, it seems there are all sorts of ancient, gold laden, cave cities doting the Southwest and in particular Death Valley. Apparently before it was a valley it used to be a big lake with sub-terranian condos all along the edge, stuffed with gold and 7 to 8 foot mummies. No word on whether these mummies are the 6 fingered variety or not.

Supposedly many people have found these things and one fellow even started to build a big castle there in Death Valley. His name was Death Valley Scotti.  Here is a picture of his castle. pic.

Sorry, mostly just posting the links for future reference.

LSO

Two Son’s of the UiNiall, Eremon and Crimthan, were returning from battle training on an island near Alba. These two had always been rivals, brothers they were, and always seeking to best each other and liking it not at all if his brother was viewed as superior in any sense. They had been sent to sharpen their battle skill, but ruth to tell also to see if one might better the other and so be clearly more fit to lead the clan.

The sly one, Crimthan, brought up the subject that runs thick between them, “At some point we will be forced to fight each other if one or the other does not yield.” Then followed a long recitation of all the arguments and counter-arguments that both know well and have heard all their lives, but always they lead to this impasse. “If only there was a way…” The sly fellow mused.

The ship master feared to land his boat lest it be dashed on the rocks and they all be lost, so they ride at anchor on a storm tossed sea. And such a ride, even the sailors, veterans all, looked a bit queasy. The two sons of clan Niall are impatient. Their training and their pride will not let them show anything but exasperation at the delay.

“What if we agree to a race?” Crimthan eyed his brother, gauging him, “First one ashore will rule the clan?”

Eremon sighed, “Truly? A race? Is that a fit way to decide so great a question, I wonder?”

“Isn’t it as good as any? Better than most, for I do not have to raise a hand against you my brother, and you do not have to raise a hand against me.”

“What if we both perish in this fool contest? “ asked the stronger.

“I’m surprised by you, Eremon, I’d have not thought you would give into fear. I’ve never known you to lack courage.” And this he said knowing that whether geas or just willfulness his brother would die rather than have his courage put in doubt.

Eremon growled deep in his throat, “Courage…”

Crimthan fought hard to hide his excitement as Eremon mulled but for a moment, “If we do this fool thing, and I win will you support me? There can be no turning from this course if we decide, this is far too important a thing. I know you think you are wiser than me, but I think you trust yourself too much. I will want your advise, but I do not think you would be the best to rule. Will you swear to support me if I reach shore before you?”

“You know that I will.” Crimthan promised.

“Let us have witnesses then, Ferdiad, Eochaid come witness.”

The witnesses gathered with the brothers, “Let the one who’s right hand touches shore first lead the clan with the full support of the other, setting aside concerns and trusting to fate and blood. Swear it Crimthan as I swear it now before these witnesses, the one who’s hand touches first will rule.”

“I swear it. The one who’s right hand touches first will rule.”

Prepare you then, I will speak to the captain and ask him to carry us closer into shore that we may not both parish for your impatience.  Eremon turned to the captain, but his brother was already in motion.

“You should prepare, but as for me I have prepared all my life. Wit should lead bravery. He ran to the rail dropping his cloak, revealing his body stripped for swimming and greased against the cold. With not a word more  Crimthan dove into the heaving sea.

The boat approached as Crimthan labored in the waves and for a moment he feared he had miscalculated. Had Eremon taken command and decided to dash the boat on the rocks? It sounded like the kind of direct action that he would favor, but Crimthan didn’t think he would risk so many lives.

The boat turned parallel and the waves crashed over him so all he could do was fight for his life. As he thrashed he felt the sand beneath him, then the wave slammed him into the bottom.

Crimthan struggled out of the surf. His body was numb he was shaking, and his teeth chattered, but that meant nothing. He was elated, he had done it.

“Save my hand!” The shout rang out over the roar of the waves, but the words meant nothing to Crimthan until he staggered out of the surf and  saw the ghastly lump, like a fat white spider, on a smear of red.

“That, is the right hand of the chief!” shouted Eremon.

Crimthan crawled to the hand. He’s mad he thought. Crimthan grabbed the cold dead thing and clamored to his feet. An urge to throw the thing into the surf came and just as soon left him, washed away in peals of laughter. Exhausted he collapsed, but couldn’t stop laughing. “I have it!” He laughed and couldn’t gather himself for a moment. “That was a long reach my brother, but I think you will need a new right hand!”

“You always were the wise one, good thing for me I favor the dexter. But a chief ought to have a strong right hand,” Eremon called from the boat.

“I have what you lack my brother,” He waved the grizzly trophy above his head.

“Instruct me. Do I lack wisdom?”

“No, not that. Now I see you are wiser than I am.”

“Surely not courage.”

“No brother, I risked my life to cheat you, but no one can doubt your courage this day.”

“Strength then?”

“You know as do I, you are the stronger.”

“You will have to tell me then, what do I lack?”

“I told you, but perhaps you need ears.” Crimthan could hear his brother Eremon laughing, “You will need a strong right hand, and that I have.”

“Better at my side than at my throat! eh brother?”

And ever after that clan wore the hand gules as a badge of courage.

This is an adaptation or reimagination of a legend that explains the Red Hand on our arms.

LSO

I have been bothered by our economy for some time. Granted, I’m not an economist, a policy maker, or even particularily well educated, still, it seems to me that wealth creation must involve the finding and securing of resources, the refining of resources, and the creation of some useful item or at least desired item. This seems to be an idea that is not shared by the leaders of our country.

I think that people and organizations unfriendly to the United States or at very least unfriendly to our way of life have been agressively obstructing the securing of resources and for whatever reason we have fallen farther and farther behind in manufacturing the items that we use and therefore need.

Ultimately we need food, water, and shelter. As Americans we have become accustomed to having private transportation and a ready and varied supply of entertainments. The first things truly are necessary, but the other two things seem culturally to be very nearly so.

But that is today, and what I want to talk about how the past is similar to today or perhaps to America in its golden age.

In the past, golden ages involved a surplus of items necessary for sustaining life. Usually it was easy to get these things, long fruitful growing seasons securing abundance of food, unexploited raw materials, items that may not have had a use in the past, that could be gathered without difficulty, water running near by, easily aquired and reliably abundant.

These are things that may not be long so easily found for Americans. As such, unless we can develop means to create abundance again, we are leaving a golden age for a darker period.

In fiction as in real life, as we see from history, we remember the golden times. Perhaps there is time for such entertainments as remembering, perhaps artistic elements can grow and amplify, from abundance, the lives of folk who can spend their time being heroic without being forced to scrape for sustainence.

Yet perhaps these are the times that are truely the most heroic, when men must be more than they are at other times. Art is not reality, it pretends it is. Securing bare survival isn’t the stuff of legend, but if there is no survival then there can be no story either.

What a mess. I’m going to post this. I will be so humilated to see this drek I will be forced to revise and improve it. Forgive me dear reader.

LSO