Excerpt
from
Needs to Know
About
Australia"
1999
The First Australians
From the arrival
of the British,
it's been a fast ride
downhill
for Australia's
indigenous population.
There were half a million
[500,000]
Aboriginal people
here in 1788.
Now there
are 353,000,
about 70 percent
of whom
live in towns and cities.
They fell victim to slaughter
by settlers,
in the course
of "clearing" the land,
diseases
introduced by the new arrivals,
loss of their traditional food
and water supplies,
and
neglect by the authorities.
They were not citizens
and they had no right to vote.
Section 127
of the Australian Constitution,
drawn up in 1900,
said:
"In reckoning
the number of people
in the Commonwealth,
or of a State
or
other part
of the Commonwealth,
aboriginal natives
shall not be counted."
There were
two breakthroughs
in the 20th
century.
In a referendum in 1967,
white Australians
voted overwhelmingly
to include Aborigines
in the census
and give
the federal government
power to make laws
to improve
their conditions.
Then, in 1982,
Eddie Mabo
and
four other people
of
the Meriam tribe
in
the Torres Strait Islands
asked
the High Court
to confirm
their traditional
right
to their land.
It was a challenge
to the legal fiction
on which
the British
had occupied Australia:
that the continent was
terra nullius
(no-one's land)
because
the Aborigines
were not
capable
of ownership.
Arguing the case
took ten years,
during which
Eddie Mabo died,
but, in 1992,
the High Court
ruled in his favor.
The decision
had huge implications
for the land rights
of
all Aboriginal people.
It threw state governments
into confusion,
and
panicked mining companies
and farmers.
To clarify the situation,
the Federal Government
passed
the Native Title Act
at the end of 1993.
It said, in effect,
that Aboriginal Australians
who could establish
that they had
continuously
occupied an area
since
the arrival of the whites
would be entitled
to own the land
or
be compensated
for infringements on it.
A
Native Title Tribunal
was set up
to rule
on claims
and
compensation.
But then
in 1996,
the High Court,
in a ruling
called
"the Wik decision",
said native title
could apply to
pastoral leases
(land used
by private businesses
for grazing sheep
and cattle,
but actually owned
by the Government).
Pastoral families
and
companies
pressured
the government
of John Howard
into changing
the Native Title Act
so that
Aboriginal rights
were
reduced
and
pastoralists
were given
more control
over the land
they were leasing.
+++
[from
pages 29 and 30,
Chapter 13,
"Pioneers"]
+++
Faith
More Australians
believe
in space aliens
than believe
in God,
despite the fact that
more Australians
have been to church
than
have been abducted
by UFOs.
A 1995 survey
of
religious beliefs
by
the
Saulwick research organization
found
74 per cent
of adults
saying they believed
in God,
while
20 per cent
described themselves
as atheists
and
6 per cent
as agnostics.
This fits
with the 1996 census,
wherein 25 per cent
of Australians
wrote
"no religion"
or
left the religion section
blank.
The census shows
27 per cent
of Australians
as Catholic,
22 per cent
Anglican
and
8 per cent
Uniting Church.
Only 3.3 per cent
of the population
belong to
a "non-Christian" religion,
of whom
Muslims
and
Buddhists
are
a third each,
and
Jews
are 13 per cent.
But regardless
of any allegiance
they nominate,
only 22 per cent
of Australians
describe themselves
as
regular churchgoers.
The survey suggested
New South Wales
citizens
are
more devout
(78 per cent
believers
and
25 per cent
churchgoers)
than
Victorians
(67 per cent
and
19 per cent).
In 1995,
a national survey
by
the Perth-based magazine
REVelation
found that
80 per cent
of Australians
believe aliens exist
somewhere
in the universe,
and
70 per cent
believe
UFOs
are real.
Further good news
for extraterrestrials:
63 per cent
of Australians
believe
they have the technology
to visit earth,
47 per cent
believe they are friendly
and
contact is desirable
(that film ET
has a lot to answer for),
and
40 per cent
believe some humans
have been
abducted by them.
About one in ten
Australians
say they
have had
unexplained experiences
that
might be connected
with UFOs.
Spooky.
+++
[from
pages 106 and 107,
+++++++++++++++++++
Excerpt
(below)
from:
"The Time Machine",
by
H. G. Wells,
Aerie Books Ltd.,
1895,
page 57:
",, a queer notion
of Grant Allen's
came into my head,
and amused me.
If each
generation
die
and leave ghosts,
he argued,
the world at last
will get overcrowded
with them.
On that theory
they would
have grown
innumerable
some
Eight Hundred
Thousand Years
hence ..."
+++++++++++++++++++
Excerpt
from
"2001:
A Space
Odyssey",
by
Arthur C. Clarke,
based
on
a screenplay
by
Stanley Kubrick
and
Arthur C. Clarke,
New York,
1968.
Behind every man
now alive
stand thirty ghosts,
for that is the ratio
by which the dead
outnumber the living.
Since the dawn
of time,
roughly
a hundred billion
human beings
have walked
the planet Earth.
Now this is
an interesting number,
for
by a curious coincidence
there are
approximately
a hundred billion stars
in our local universe,
the Milky Way.
So
for every man
who has ever lived,
in this Universe
there shines a star,
But every one
of those stars
is a sun,
often far more
brilliant and glorious
than
the small, nearby star
we call the Sun.
And many --
perhaps most --
of those alien suns
have planets
circling them.
So
almost certainly
there is
enough
land
in the sky
to give
every member
of
the human species,
back to
the first ape-man,
his own
private,
world-sized
heaven --
or hell.
How many
of those potential
heavens and hells
are now inhabited,
and
by what manner
of creatures,
we have
no way of guessing;
the very nearest
is a million times
farther away
than Mars or Venus,
those still remote goals
of the next generation.
But the barriers
of distance
are crumbling;
one day
we shall meet
our equals,
or
our masters,
among the stars.
Men
have been slow
to face this prospect;
some
still hope
that it
may never
become reality.
Increasing numbers,
however, are asking:
"Why have such meetings
not occurred already,
since we ourselves
are
about to venture
into space?"
Why not, indeed?
Here
[in
the novel
or
film "2001"]
is
one possible answer
to
that
very reasonable question.
But please
remember:
this is only
a work
of fiction.
The truth,
as always,
will be
far stranger.
+++++
[I read
this
piece
first
at the age
of 14,
(in
the summer
of 1969),
when
it was
handed out
to
accompany
a
screening of
"2001:
A Space Odyssey",
when
that film
first came
to Texas.
My life
has never
been
the same
since!
-- sh]
++++++++
"Galactic
Cultural Exchanges"
It is possible
to speculate
on
the very distant future
of
advanced civilizations.
We can
imagine
such societies
in excellent harmony
with
their environments,
their biology,
and
the vagaries
of their politics,
so that
they enjoy
extraordinarily long
lifetimes.
Communications
would long have been
established
with
many other such civilizations.
The diffusion of
knowledge,
techniques,
and
points of view
would occur
at the velocity of light.
In time,
the diverse cultures
of the Galaxy,
involving a large number
of
quite different-looking
organisms,
based
on
different biochemistries
and
different initial cultures,
would
become homogenized --
just as
the diverse cultures
of Earth today
are
in the process
of homogenization.
But such
cultural homogenization
of the Galaxy
will take a long time.
One round-trip
communication by radio
between us
and
the center
of the Milky Way Galaxy
requires 60,000 years.
Cultural homogenization
of the Galaxy
would require
many such exchanges,
even if
each exchange
involved
very large amounts
of information
conveyed
very efficiently.
I find it
difficult to believe
that fewer than 100
exchanges
between
the remotest
parts of the Galaxy
would be adequate
for
galactic
cultural homogenization.
The minimum
lifetime
for
the homogenization
of the Galaxy
would thus be
many millions
of years.
The constituent
societies
must,
of course,
be stable
for
comparable
periods of time.
Such
homogenization
need not be
desirable,
but
there are still
strong and obvious
pressures for it
to occur,
as is
also the case
on the Earth.
If there exists
a galactic community
of civilizations
that
truly embraces
much of
the Milky Way,
and
if we are right
that
no information
can be
transmitted
at a velocity
faster
than light,
then
most
of the members --
and all
of
the founding members --
of
such a community
must be
at least
millions of years
more advanced
than we are.
For this reason,
I think it
a great conceit,
the idea
of the present Earth
establishing radio contact
and
becoming a member
of a galactic federation --
something like
a blue jay
or
an armadillo
applying
to the United Nations
for
member-nation status.
These
velocity-of-light
limitations on the speed
of
communication
can also
be applied to
the homogenization
of the cultures
of
different galaxies,
after
a hypothetical period
of millions of years
in which
the stellar civilizations
of a given galaxy
achieve
a common culture.
We can imagine
attempts to make contact
with such
galactic federations
in other galaxies.
The nearest
spiral galaxies
are
several million
light-years
away.
This means that
a single element
of the dialogue --
a message
and
its reply --
would take
periods of time
of
several millions
to about
ten million years.
If
a hundred
such exchanges
are required,
the time scale
for homogenization
of
a group
of nearby galaxies
is then
of the order
of a billion years.
The galactic societies
would have to be
stable
and preserve
continuity
for such periods of time.
This would mean
that
an immensely old
civilization
within our Galaxy
might have
strong
learned commonalities
with
similar
galactic federations
in other members
of what astronomers
modestly call
the "local"
group of galaxies.
These
homogenization
time scales
are beginning
to reach a point
that strains credulity.
There are
sufficient
natural catastrophes
and
statistical fluctuations
in the universe
that
a stable society --
even residing
on
many different planets
simultaneously
for
more than
a billion years --
begins to sound
unlikely.
Also,
during these
immense
periods of time
the communicating
galactic societies
will
themselves
be evolving;
many
contacts
will be required
to maintain
homogenization.
The galaxies
are so distant
one from another
that
they will always
retain
their cultural
individuality.
In any case,
all bets are off
beyond
the local group,
To have
cultural homogenization
with
the next such cluster
of
galaxies like our own,
and
engage in
a hundred
message-exchange pairs,
would require a time
longer
than
the age of the universe.
This is not
to exclude
long individual
messages
from one galaxy
to another.
It may be
that
enormous amounts
of information --
about
the history
of
a given
galactic federation,
for example --
may be well known
to
civilizations
in other galaxies.
But there will not be
enough time
for dialogues.
At most,
one exchange
would be possible
between
the most
distant galaxies
in the universe.
Two exchanges
of information
at the velocity of light
would take
more time
than there is,
according to
modern cosmology.
We conclude
that
there cannot be
a strongly cohesive
network
of communicating,
unifying
intelligences
through
the whole universe
if
(1) such
galactic civilizations
evolve upward
from
individual
planetary societies
and
if
(2) the velocity
of light
is indeed
a fixed limit
on the speed
of
information transmission,
as
special relativity requires
(i.e.,
if we ignore
such possibilities
as
using black holes
for fast transport:
See Chapter 39).
Such
a universal
intelligence
is
a kind of
god
that
cannot exist.
In a way,
Saint Augustine
and many other
thoughtful
theologians
have come
to
rather
the same conclusion --
God
must
not live
from
moment to moment,
but
during all times
simultaneously.
This is,
in a way,
the same as
saying
that
special relativity
does not apply
to Him.
But
super-civilization
gods,
perhaps
the only ones that
this kind
of scientific speculation
admits,
are
fundamentally limited.
There may be
such gods
of galaxies,
but not
of the universe
as a whole.
[Above,
from:
"The Cosmic
Connection:
An Extraterrestrial
Perspective",
1973,
pages 241 - 243]
++++++++++
Cosmology"
One
of a number
of
sophisticated
cosmological models
that have been
constructed
within
the broad purview
of
the big-bang account
of cosmic history,
this theory,
proposed
by
J. Richard Gott III
of
Princeton University,
postulates
the existence
of not
one
universe
but
three.
It envisions
that
the big bang
gave rise
not only
to
our universe,
where matter
predominates
over antimatter
and
time runs forward,
but
a second universe
where antimatter
predominates
and
time
moves backward,
as well as
a tachyon universe
where
everything moves
faster
than
the velocity
of light.
Our universe
and
the
antimatter universe
are segregated
in terms
of time.
Both
are segregated
from
the tachyon universe
in terms
of space,
since tachyons
in the first instant
of creation
fled
beyond
the light cones
of all observers
in both
the matter
and antimatter
universes.
Excerpt
from
"Galaxies",
by
Timothy Ferris,
Stewart,
Tabori & Chang,
Publishers, New York,
1980;
caption
for
Figure 19,
page 175]
+++++++++
Excerpt
(below)
page 61:
[On
the fictional race
of the
"Morlocks",
the animal-like
subdivision
of our species
800,000
years in the future,
grown
accustomed to
a life of hard toil
in
underground darkness,
providing
for
the "Eloi",
on
the earth's surface,
above.]:
"... this
second species
of Man
was
subterranean,
[...]
Beneath my feet,
then,
the earth must be
tunneled
enormously,
and
these tunnelings
were the habitat
of the new race.
The presence
of ventilating shafts
and
wells
along the hill slopes --
everywhere,
in fact,
except
along
the river valley --
showed
how universal
were
its ramifications.
What so natural,
then,
as to assume
that
it was in this
artificial Under-world
that such work
as was necessary
to the comfort
of
the daylight race
was done?
[That is,
the fictional race
called
the "Eloi",
the child-like subdivision
of our species
800,000
years in the future,
grown accustomed to
life above ground --
"the daylight race" --
playing until nightfall;
afraid of nothing
until then.]
The notion
was so plausible
that I
at once
accepted it,
and went on
to assume
the how
of
this splitting
of
the human species.
I dare say
you will
anticipate
the shape of my theory,
though,
for myself,
I very soon felt
that
it fell far short
of the truth.
At first,
proceeding
from the problems
of
our own age
[1895],
it seemed
clear as daylight
to me
that
the gradual widening
of the
present
merely temporary
and
social
difference
between
the Capitalist
and
the Laborer
was
the key
to the whole position.
No doubt
it will seem
grotesque enough
to you --
and
wildly incredible! --
and yet
even now
there are
existing circumstances
to point
that way.
There is a tendency
to utilize
underground space
for
the less ornamental
purposes
of civilization;
there is the
Metropolitan Railway
in London,
for instance,
there are
new electric railways,
there are
subways,
there are
underground workrooms
and
restaurants,
and
they increase
and
multiply.
Evidently,
I thought,
this tendency
had increased
till Industry
had gradually lost
its birthright
in the sky.
I mean
that
it had gone
deeper
and deeper
into larger
and
ever larger
underground
factories,
spending
a still-increasing
amount of its time
therein,
till,
in the end --!
Even now,
[1895]
does not
an East-end worker
live
in such
artificial conditions
as practically
to be cut off
from
the natural surface
of the earth?
Again,
the exclusive
tendency
of richer people --
due,
no doubt,
to the increasing
refinement
of their education,
and
the widening gulf
between
them
and
the rude violence
of
the poor --
is already leading to
the closing,
in their interest,
of
considerable portions
of the surface
of the land.
About London,
for instance,
perhaps
half
the prettier country
is
shut in
against intrusion.
And this same
widening gulf --
which
is due to
the length
and
expense
of
the higher
educational process
and
the increased facilities
for
and temptations
towards
refined habits
on the part
of the rich --
will make
that
exchange between
class and class,
that
promotion
by intermarriage
which
at present
retards
the splitting
of our species
along lines
of social stratification,
less
and
less frequent.
So,
in the end,
above ground
you must have
the Haves,
pursuing
pleasure
and
comfort
and
beauty,
and
below ground
the Have-nots,
the Workers
getting
continually
adapted
to the conditions
of
their labor.
Once they
were there,
they would
no doubt
have to
pay rent,
and
not a little
of it,
for the ventilation
of their caverns;
and
if they refused,
they would
starve
or
be suffocated
for arrears.
Such of them
as were
so constituted
as
to be miserable
and
rebellious
would die;
and,
in the end,
the balance
being permanent,
the survivors
would become
as
well adapted
to the conditions
of underground life,
and
as happy
in their way,
as
the
Upper-world people
were
to theirs.
As it seemed
to me,
the refined beauty
and
the etiolated pallor
followed
naturally enough.
The great triumph
of
Humanity
I had dreamed of
took
a different shape
in my mind.
It had been
no such triumph
of moral education
and
general cooperation
as I had imagined.
Instead,
I saw
a real aristocracy,
armed
with a perfected science
and
working
to a logical conclusion
the industrial system
of
to-day [1895].
Its triumph
had not been simply
a triumph
over Nature,
but
a triumph
over Nature
and
the fellow-man.
This,
I must warn you,
was my theory
at the time.
I had no
convenient cicerone
[that is,
a guide,
having
the knowledge
and
eloquence
of Cicero]
in the pattern
of
the Utopian books.
My explanation
may be
absolutely wrong.
I still think it
is
the most plausible one.
But even
on this supposition
the
balanced civilization
that was
at last attained
must have
long ago
passed its zenith,
and
was now
far
fallen
into
decay.
The
too-perfect security
of the Upper-worlders
had led them
to a slow movement
of degeneration,
to
a general dwindling
in size,
strength,
and
intelligence.
That
I could see
clearly enough
already.
What had happened
to the Under-grounders
I did not yet suspect;
but
from what I had seen
of
the Morlocks --
that,
by the by,
was the name
by which
these creatures
were called --
I could
imagine
that
the modification
of the human type
was even
far more profound
than
among
the "Eloi",
the beautiful race
that
I already knew.
Then came
troublesome
doubts.
Why had
the Morlocks
taken
my Time Machine?
For I felt sure
it was they
who had taken it.
Why, too,
if the Eloi
were masters,
could they
not restore
the machine
to me?
And
why were they
so terribly
afraid
of
the dark?
I proceeded,
as I have said,
to question
Weena
[his Eloi
companion]
about
this Under-world,
but
here again
I was disappointed.
At first
she
would not
understand
my questions,
and presently
she refused
to answer them.
She shivered
as though the
topic
were
unendurable.
And when
I pressed her,
perhaps a little
harshly,
she
burst into tears.
They were
the only tears,
except
my own,
I ever saw
in
that Golden Age.
When
I saw them
I ceased abruptly
to trouble
about
the Morlocks,
and
was
only concerned
in
banishing these
signs
of the human
inheritance
from
Weena's eyes.
And very soon
she was
smiling
and
clapping
her hands,
while I
solemnly
burned a match.
[...]
The above passages
are from
pages 61 - 64.]
+++
And now
I understood
to some
slight degree
at least
the reason
of the fear
of the little
Upper-world people
for the dark.
I wondered
vaguely
what foul villainy
it might be
that
the Morlocks did
under
the new moon.
I felt pretty sure now
that
my second hypothesis
was
all wrong.
The
Upper-world people
might once
have been
the favored
aristocracy,
and
the Morlocks
their
mechanical servants:
but that
had long since
passed away.
The two species
that
had resulted
from
the evolution of man
were
sliding down
towards,
or
had already arrived at,
an
altogether new
relationship.
The Eloi,
like
the Carlovingian kings,
had decayed
to a mere
beautiful
futility.
They still possessed
the earth
on sufferance:
since
the Morlocks,
subterranean
for
innumerable generations,
had come
at last
to find
the daylit surface
intolerable.
And
the Morlocks
made
their garments,
I inferred,
and
maintained them
in their
habitual needs,
perhaps
through
the survival
of an old habit
of service.
They did it
as
a standing horse
paws
with his foot,
or
as
a man
enjoys
killing animals
in
sport:
because
ancient
and
departed
necessities
had impressed it
on the organism.
But,
clearly
the old order
was
already in part
reversed.
The Nemesis
of
the delicate ones
was
creeping on
apace.
Ages ago,
thousands
of generations
ago,
man
had thrust
his brother man
out
of the ease
and
the sunshine.
And now
that brother
was coming back --
changed!
Already
the Eloi had begun
to learn
one old lesson
anew.
They were becoming
reacquainted
with
Fear.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from page 74.]
+++
You know
that great pause
that
comes upon things
before the dusk?
Even
the breeze
stops
in the trees.
To me
there is always
an air
of expectation
about that
evening stillness.
The sky
was
clear,
remote,
and
empty
save for
a few
horizontal bars
far down
in the sunset.
Well,
that night
the expectation
took the color
of my fears.
In that
darkling calm
my senses seemed
preternaturally
sharpened.
I fancied I
could even feel
the hollowness
of the ground
beneath my feet:
could,
indeed,
almost
see through it
the Morlocks
on their anthill
going hither
and thither
and
waiting
for
the dark.
In my excitement
I fancied
that they would
receive my invasion
of their burrows
as
a declaration of war.
And
why had they taken
my
Time Machine?
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 76 - 77.]
+++
Above me
shone the stars,
for the night
was very clear.
I felt
a certain sense
of
friendly comfort
in
their twinkling.
All
the old
constellations
had gone
from the sky,
however:
that slow movement
which is
imperceptible
in
a hundred
human lifetimes,
had
long since
rearranged them
in
unfamiliar groupings.
But
the Milky Way,
it seemed to me,
was
still
the same
tattered
streamer of star-dust
as
of yore.
Southward
(as I judged it)
was
a very bright
red star
that was new
to me;
it was
even more splendid
than
our own
green Sirius.
And
amid all these
scintillating
points of light
one bright planet
shone kindly
and steadily
like
the face
of an old friend.
Looking
at these stars
suddenly
dwarfed
my own troubles
and
all the gravities
of terrestrial life.
I thought of
their
unfathomable distance,
and
the slow
inevitable drift
of their movements
out of
the unknown past
into
the unknown future.
I thought of
the great
precessional cycle
that
the pole of the earth
describes.
Only forty times
had
that
silent revolution
occurred
during all the years
I had traversed.
And during
these few revolutions
all
the activity,
all
the traditions,
the complex
organizations,
the nations,
languages,
literatures,
aspirations,
even
the mere memory
of Man
as I knew him,
had been
swept
out of existence.
Instead
were these
frail creatures
who
had forgotten
their
high ancestry,
and
the white Things
of which
I went
in terror.
Then I thought
of
the Great Fear
that was
between
the two species,
and
for the first time,
with a sudden
shiver,
came
the clear
knowledge
of ...
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 78 - 79.]
+++
... from
the bottom
of my heart
I pitied
this
last feeble rill
from
the great flood
of humanity.
Clearly,
at some time
in
the Long-Ago
of
human decay
the Morlocks' food
had
run short.
Possibly they
had lived on rats
and
such-like vermin.
Even now
[1895]
a man
is far less
discriminating
and
exclusive
in his food
than he was --
far less
than any monkey.
His prejudice
against
human flesh
is
no
deep-seated instinct.
And so
these
inhuman
sons of men -- !
I tried
to look at the thing
in
a scientific spirit.
After all,
they were
less human
and
more remote
than
our
cannibal ancestors
of three
or four
thousand years ago.
And
the intelligence
that
would have made
this
state of things
a torment
had gone.
Why should I
trouble myself?
These Eloi
were mere
fatted cattle,
which
the ant-like
Morlocks
preserved
and
preyed upon --
probably saw to
the
breeding
of.
And there
was
Weena
dancing
at my side!
Then
I tried
to preserve
myself
from
the horror
that was coming
upon me,
by
regarding it
as
a rigorous punishment
of
human selfishness.
Man had been
content
to live in
ease
and
delight
upon the labors
of
his fellow-man,
had
taken
Necessity
as
his watchword
and
excuse,
and
in the fullness
of time
Necessity
had
come home
to him.
I even tried
a
Carlyle-like scorn
of
this wretched
aristocracy
in decay.
But
this attitude
of mind
was impossible.
However great
their
intellectual
degradation,
the Eloi
had kept
too much
of
the human form
not to claim
my sympathy,
and
to make
me
perforce
a sharer
in their degradation
and their
Fear.
[...]
Weena
I had
resolved
to
bring with me
to
our
own time
[1895].
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 80 - 81.]
+++
proved
on examination
to be
indeed porcelain,
and
along the face of it
I saw an inscription
in
some
unknown character.
I thought,
rather foolishly,
that
Weena
might help me
to
interpret this,
but
I only learned that
the bare idea
of writing
had
never entered
her head.
She
always seemed
to me,
I fancy,
more human
than she was,
perhaps because
her affection
was
so human.
Within
the big valves
of the door --
which were
open and broken --
we found,
instead of
the customary hall,
a long gallery
lit
by
many side windows.
At
the first glance
I was reminded
of
a museum.
The tiled floor
was thick with dust,
and
a remarkable array
of miscellaneous objects
was shrouded
in
the
same grey covering.
Then I perceived,
standing
strange and gaunt
in the center
of the hall,
what was clearly
the lower part
of
a huge skeleton.
I recognized
by
the oblique feet
that it was
some
extinct creature
after the fashion of
the Megatherium.
The skull
and
the upper bones
lay beside it
in the thick dust,
and
in one place,
where rain-water
had dropped through
a leak in the roof,
the thing itself
had been
worn away.
Further in the gallery
was
the huge skeleton barrel
of a Brontosaurus.
My
museum hypothesis
was confirmed.
Going
towards the side
I found
what appeared to be
sloping shelves,
and
clearing away
the thick dust,
I found
the old familiar
glass cases
of
our own time
[1895].
But they
must have been
airtight
to judge from
the fair preservation
of
some of their contents.
Clearly
we stood among
the ruins
of
some latter-day
South Kensington!
Here, apparently,
was
the Palaeontological Section,
and
a very splendid array
of fossils
it must have been,
though
the inevitable
process of decay
that had been staved off
for a time,
and
had,
through
the extinction
of bacteria and fungi,
lost
ninety-nine hundredths
of its force,
was
nevertheless,
with
extreme sureness
if with
extreme
slowness
at work again
upon
all its treasures.
[...]
And
at first
I was
so much surprised
by
this ancient monument
of an intellectual age,
that
I gave no thought
to the possibilities
it presented.
[...]
To judge
from the size
of the place,
this
Palace
of Green Porcelain
had a great deal
more in it
than
a Gallery
of Palaeontology;
possibly
historical galleries;
it might be,
even
a library!
[...]
Apparently
this section
had been devoted
to
natural history,
but
everything had
long since
passed
out of recognition.
A few shriveled
and blackened
vestiges
of
what had once been
stuffed animals,
desiccated mummies
in jars
that had
once held spirit,
a brown dust
of departed plants:
that
was all!
I was sorry
for that,
because
I should have
been glad to trace
the patent
readjustments
by which
the conquest
of animated nature
had been attained.
Then we came
to a gallery
of
simply
colossal proportions,
but
singularly ill-lit,
the floor of it
running downward
at a slight angle
from the end
at which I entered.
At intervals
white gloves
hung
from the ceiling --
many of them
cracked and smashed --
which suggested
that originally
the place
had been
artificially lit.
Here
I was more
in my element,
for
rising
on either
side of me
were
the huge bulks
of big machines,
all greatly corroded
and
many broken down,
but some
still fairly complete.
You know
I have
a certain weakness
for mechanism,
and I was inclined
to linger among these;
the more so
as
for the most part
they had
the interest of puzzles,
and I could make
only
the vaguest guesses
at
what
they were for.
I fancied
that if
I could solve
their puzzles
I should
find myself
in possession
of powers
that might be
of use
against the Morlocks.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 84 - 85.]
+++
Well,
mace
in one hand
and
Weena
in the other,
I went out
of that gallery
and into
another
and
still larger one,
which
at
the first glance
reminded me
of
a military chapel
hung
with tattered flags.
The
brown
and charred
rags
that hung
from
the sides of it,
I presently recognized
as
the decaying vestiges
of books.
They had
long since
dropped
to pieces,
and
every semblance
of print
had
left them.
But
here and there
were
warped boards
and
cracked
metallic clasps
that
told the tale
well enough.
Had I been
a literary man
I might,
perhaps,
have moralized
upon
the futility
of all ambition.
But as it was,
the thing
that struck me
with keenest force
was
the enormous waste
of labor
to which
this
somber wilderness
of
rotting paper testified.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from page 87.]
+++
In another
place
was a vast array
of idols --
Polynesian,
Mexican,
Grecian,
Phoenician,
every country
on earth
I should think.
And here,
yielding to
an
irresistible impulse,
I wrote
my name
upon the nose
of
a steatite monster
from
South America
that particularly
took my fancy.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from page 89.]
++++++++
from
"The 100
Things
EveryoneNeeds to Know
About
Australia"
by David Dale,
Pan Macmillan
Australia,1999
The First Australians
From the arrival
of the British,
it's been a fast ride
downhill
for Australia's
indigenous population.
There were half a million
[500,000]
Aboriginal people
here in 1788.
Now there
are 353,000,
about 70 percent
of whom
live in towns and cities.
They fell victim to slaughter
by settlers,
in the course
of "clearing" the land,
diseases
introduced by the new arrivals,
loss of their traditional food
and water supplies,
and
neglect by the authorities.
They were not citizens
and they had no right to vote.
Section 127
of the Australian Constitution,
drawn up in 1900,
said:
"In reckoning
the number of people
in the Commonwealth,
or of a State
or
other part
of the Commonwealth,
aboriginal natives
shall not be counted."
There were
two breakthroughs
in the 20th
century.
In a referendum in 1967,
white Australians
voted overwhelmingly
to include Aborigines
in the census
and give
the federal government
power to make laws
to improve
their conditions.
Then, in 1982,
Eddie Mabo
and
four other people
of
the Meriam tribe
in
the Torres Strait Islands
asked
the High Court
to confirm
their traditional
right
to their land.
It was a challenge
to the legal fiction
on which
the British
had occupied Australia:
that the continent was
terra nullius
(no-one's land)
because
the Aborigines
were not
capable
of ownership.
Arguing the case
took ten years,
during which
Eddie Mabo died,
but, in 1992,
the High Court
ruled in his favor.
The decision
had huge implications
for the land rights
of
all Aboriginal people.
It threw state governments
into confusion,
and
panicked mining companies
and farmers.
To clarify the situation,
the Federal Government
passed
the Native Title Act
at the end of 1993.
It said, in effect,
that Aboriginal Australians
who could establish
that they had
continuously
occupied an area
since
the arrival of the whites
would be entitled
to own the land
or
be compensated
for infringements on it.
A
Native Title Tribunal
was set up
to rule
on claims
and
compensation.
But then
in 1996,
the High Court,
in a ruling
called
"the Wik decision",
said native title
could apply to
pastoral leases
(land used
by private businesses
for grazing sheep
and cattle,
but actually owned
by the Government).
Pastoral families
and
companies
pressured
the government
of John Howard
into changing
the Native Title Act
so that
Aboriginal rights
were
reduced
and
pastoralists
were given
more control
over the land
they were leasing.
+++
[from
pages 29 and 30,
Chapter 13,
"Pioneers"]
+++
Faith
More Australians
believe
in space aliens
than believe
in God,
despite the fact that
more Australians
have been to church
than
have been abducted
by UFOs.
A 1995 survey
of
religious beliefs
by
the
Saulwick research organization
found
74 per cent
of adults
saying they believed
in God,
while
20 per cent
described themselves
as atheists
and
6 per cent
as agnostics.
This fits
with the 1996 census,
wherein 25 per cent
of Australians
wrote
"no religion"
or
left the religion section
blank.
The census shows
27 per cent
of Australians
as Catholic,
22 per cent
Anglican
and
8 per cent
Uniting Church.
Only 3.3 per cent
of the population
belong to
a "non-Christian" religion,
of whom
Muslims
and
Buddhists
are
a third each,
and
Jews
are 13 per cent.
But regardless
of any allegiance
they nominate,
only 22 per cent
of Australians
describe themselves
as
regular churchgoers.
The survey suggested
New South Wales
citizens
are
more devout
(78 per cent
believers
and
25 per cent
churchgoers)
than
Victorians
(67 per cent
and
19 per cent).
In 1995,
a national survey
by
the Perth-based magazine
REVelation
found that
80 per cent
of Australians
believe aliens exist
somewhere
in the universe,
and
70 per cent
believe
UFOs
are real.
Further good news
for extraterrestrials:
63 per cent
of Australians
believe
they have the technology
to visit earth,
47 per cent
believe they are friendly
and
contact is desirable
(that film ET
has a lot to answer for),
and
40 per cent
believe some humans
have been
abducted by them.
About one in ten
Australians
say they
have had
unexplained experiences
that
might be connected
with UFOs.
Spooky.
+++
[from
pages 106 and 107,
Chapter 47,
"Passions"]+++++++++++++++++++
Excerpt
(below)
from:
"The Time Machine",
by
H. G. Wells,
Aerie Books Ltd.,
1895,
page 57:
",, a queer notion
of Grant Allen's
came into my head,
and amused me.
If each
generation
die
and leave ghosts,
he argued,
the world at last
will get overcrowded
with them.
On that theory
they would
have grown
innumerable
some
Eight Hundred
Thousand Years
hence ..."
+++++++++++++++++++
Excerpt
from
"2001:
A Space
Odyssey",
by
Arthur C. Clarke,
based
on
a screenplay
by
Stanley Kubrick
and
Arthur C. Clarke,
Signet Books,
New American Library,New York,
1968.
Foreword
Behind every man
now alive
stand thirty ghosts,
for that is the ratio
by which the dead
outnumber the living.
Since the dawn
of time,
roughly
a hundred billion
human beings
have walked
the planet Earth.
Now this is
an interesting number,
for
by a curious coincidence
there are
approximately
a hundred billion stars
in our local universe,
the Milky Way.
So
for every man
who has ever lived,
in this Universe
there shines a star,
But every one
of those stars
is a sun,
often far more
brilliant and glorious
than
the small, nearby star
we call the Sun.
And many --
perhaps most --
of those alien suns
have planets
circling them.
So
almost certainly
there is
enough
land
in the sky
to give
every member
of
the human species,
back to
the first ape-man,
his own
private,
world-sized
heaven --
or hell.
How many
of those potential
heavens and hells
are now inhabited,
and
by what manner
of creatures,
we have
no way of guessing;
the very nearest
is a million times
farther away
than Mars or Venus,
those still remote goals
of the next generation.
But the barriers
of distance
are crumbling;
one day
we shall meet
our equals,
or
our masters,
among the stars.
Men
have been slow
to face this prospect;
some
still hope
that it
may never
become reality.
Increasing numbers,
however, are asking:
"Why have such meetings
not occurred already,
since we ourselves
are
about to venture
into space?"
Why not, indeed?
Here
[in
the novel
or
film "2001"]
is
one possible answer
to
that
very reasonable question.
But please
remember:
this is only
a work
of fiction.
The truth,
as always,
will be
far stranger.
+++++
[I read
this
piece
first
at the age
of 14,
(in
the summer
of 1969),
when
it was
handed out
to
accompany
a
screening of
"2001:
A Space Odyssey",
when
that film
first came
to Texas.
My life
has never
been
the same
since!
-- sh]
"Galactic
Cultural Exchanges"
It is possible
to speculate
on
the very distant future
of
advanced civilizations.
We can
imagine
such societies
in excellent harmony
with
their environments,
their biology,
and
the vagaries
of their politics,
so that
they enjoy
extraordinarily long
lifetimes.
Communications
would long have been
established
with
many other such civilizations.
The diffusion of
knowledge,
techniques,
and
points of view
would occur
at the velocity of light.
In time,
the diverse cultures
of the Galaxy,
involving a large number
of
quite different-looking
organisms,
based
on
different biochemistries
and
different initial cultures,
would
become homogenized --
just as
the diverse cultures
of Earth today
are
in the process
of homogenization.
But such
cultural homogenization
of the Galaxy
will take a long time.
One round-trip
communication by radio
between us
and
the center
of the Milky Way Galaxy
requires 60,000 years.
Cultural homogenization
of the Galaxy
would require
many such exchanges,
even if
each exchange
involved
very large amounts
of information
conveyed
very efficiently.
I find it
difficult to believe
that fewer than 100
exchanges
between
the remotest
parts of the Galaxy
would be adequate
for
galactic
cultural homogenization.
The minimum
lifetime
for
the homogenization
of the Galaxy
would thus be
many millions
of years.
The constituent
societies
must,
of course,
be stable
for
comparable
periods of time.
Such
homogenization
need not be
desirable,
but
there are still
strong and obvious
pressures for it
to occur,
as is
also the case
on the Earth.
If there exists
a galactic community
of civilizations
that
truly embraces
much of
the Milky Way,
and
if we are right
that
no information
can be
transmitted
at a velocity
faster
than light,
then
most
of the members --
and all
of
the founding members --
of
such a community
must be
at least
millions of years
more advanced
than we are.
For this reason,
I think it
a great conceit,
the idea
of the present Earth
establishing radio contact
and
becoming a member
of a galactic federation --
something like
a blue jay
or
an armadillo
applying
to the United Nations
for
member-nation status.
These
velocity-of-light
limitations on the speed
of
communication
can also
be applied to
the homogenization
of the cultures
of
different galaxies,
after
a hypothetical period
of millions of years
in which
the stellar civilizations
of a given galaxy
achieve
a common culture.
We can imagine
attempts to make contact
with such
galactic federations
in other galaxies.
The nearest
spiral galaxies
are
several million
light-years
away.
This means that
a single element
of the dialogue --
a message
and
its reply --
would take
periods of time
of
several millions
to about
ten million years.
If
a hundred
such exchanges
are required,
the time scale
for homogenization
of
a group
of nearby galaxies
is then
of the order
of a billion years.
The galactic societies
would have to be
stable
and preserve
continuity
for such periods of time.
This would mean
that
an immensely old
civilization
within our Galaxy
might have
strong
learned commonalities
with
similar
galactic federations
in other members
of what astronomers
modestly call
the "local"
group of galaxies.
These
homogenization
time scales
are beginning
to reach a point
that strains credulity.
There are
sufficient
natural catastrophes
and
statistical fluctuations
in the universe
that
a stable society --
even residing
on
many different planets
simultaneously
for
more than
a billion years --
begins to sound
unlikely.
Also,
during these
immense
periods of time
the communicating
galactic societies
will
themselves
be evolving;
many
contacts
will be required
to maintain
homogenization.
The galaxies
are so distant
one from another
that
they will always
retain
their cultural
individuality.
In any case,
all bets are off
beyond
the local group,
To have
cultural homogenization
with
the next such cluster
of
galaxies like our own,
and
engage in
a hundred
message-exchange pairs,
would require a time
longer
than
the age of the universe.
This is not
to exclude
long individual
messages
from one galaxy
to another.
It may be
that
enormous amounts
of information --
about
the history
of
a given
galactic federation,
for example --
may be well known
to
civilizations
in other galaxies.
But there will not be
enough time
for dialogues.
At most,
one exchange
would be possible
between
the most
distant galaxies
in the universe.
Two exchanges
of information
at the velocity of light
would take
more time
than there is,
according to
modern cosmology.
We conclude
that
there cannot be
a strongly cohesive
network
of communicating,
unifying
intelligences
through
the whole universe
if
(1) such
galactic civilizations
evolve upward
from
individual
planetary societies
and
if
(2) the velocity
of light
is indeed
a fixed limit
on the speed
of
information transmission,
as
special relativity requires
(i.e.,
if we ignore
such possibilities
as
using black holes
for fast transport:
See Chapter 39).
Such
a universal
intelligence
is
a kind of
god
that
cannot exist.
In a way,
Saint Augustine
and many other
thoughtful
theologians
have come
to
rather
the same conclusion --
God
must
not live
from
moment to moment,
but
during all times
simultaneously.
This is,
in a way,
the same as
saying
that
special relativity
does not apply
to Him.
But
super-civilization
gods,
perhaps
the only ones that
this kind
of scientific speculation
admits,
are
fundamentally limited.
There may be
such gods
of galaxies,
but not
of the universe
as a whole.
[Above,
from:
"The Cosmic
Connection:
An Extraterrestrial
Perspective",
(Chapter 35)
by Carl Sagan,
Dell Publishing
Company,
New York,1973,
pages 241 - 243]
"A
Three-Universe
Big-BangCosmology"
One
of a number
of
sophisticated
cosmological models
that have been
constructed
within
the broad purview
of
the big-bang account
of cosmic history,
this theory,
proposed
by
J. Richard Gott III
of
Princeton University,
postulates
the existence
of not
one
universe
but
three.
It envisions
that
the big bang
gave rise
not only
to
our universe,
where matter
predominates
over antimatter
and
time runs forward,
but
a second universe
where antimatter
predominates
and
time
moves backward,
as well as
a tachyon universe
where
everything moves
faster
than
the velocity
of light.
Our universe
and
the
antimatter universe
are segregated
in terms
of time.
Both
are segregated
from
the tachyon universe
in terms
of space,
since tachyons
in the first instant
of creation
fled
beyond
the light cones
of all observers
in both
the matter
and antimatter
universes.
Excerpt
from
"Galaxies",
by
Timothy Ferris,
Stewart,
Tabori & Chang,
Publishers, New York,
1980;
caption
for
Figure 19,
page 175]
+++++++++
Excerpt
(below)
from:
"The Time
Machine",
by
H. G. Wells,
Aerie Books Ltd.,
1895,page 61:
[On
the fictional race
of the
"Morlocks",
the animal-like
subdivision
of our species
800,000
years in the future,
grown
accustomed to
a life of hard toil
in
underground darkness,
providing
for
the "Eloi",
on
the earth's surface,
above.]:
"... this
second species
of Man
was
subterranean,
[...]
Beneath my feet,
then,
the earth must be
tunneled
enormously,
and
these tunnelings
were the habitat
of the new race.
The presence
of ventilating shafts
and
wells
along the hill slopes --
everywhere,
in fact,
except
along
the river valley --
showed
how universal
were
its ramifications.
What so natural,
then,
as to assume
that
it was in this
artificial Under-world
that such work
as was necessary
to the comfort
of
the daylight race
was done?
[That is,
the fictional race
called
the "Eloi",
the child-like subdivision
of our species
800,000
years in the future,
grown accustomed to
life above ground --
"the daylight race" --
playing until nightfall;
afraid of nothing
until then.]
The notion
was so plausible
that I
at once
accepted it,
and went on
to assume
the how
of
this splitting
of
the human species.
I dare say
you will
anticipate
the shape of my theory,
though,
for myself,
I very soon felt
that
it fell far short
of the truth.
At first,
proceeding
from the problems
of
our own age
[1895],
it seemed
clear as daylight
to me
that
the gradual widening
of the
present
merely temporary
and
social
difference
between
the Capitalist
and
the Laborer
was
the key
to the whole position.
No doubt
it will seem
grotesque enough
to you --
and
wildly incredible! --
and yet
even now
there are
existing circumstances
to point
that way.
There is a tendency
to utilize
underground space
for
the less ornamental
purposes
of civilization;
there is the
Metropolitan Railway
in London,
for instance,
there are
new electric railways,
there are
subways,
there are
underground workrooms
and
restaurants,
and
they increase
and
multiply.
Evidently,
I thought,
this tendency
had increased
till Industry
had gradually lost
its birthright
in the sky.
I mean
that
it had gone
deeper
and deeper
into larger
and
ever larger
underground
factories,
spending
a still-increasing
amount of its time
therein,
till,
in the end --!
Even now,
[1895]
does not
an East-end worker
live
in such
artificial conditions
as practically
to be cut off
from
the natural surface
of the earth?
Again,
the exclusive
tendency
of richer people --
due,
no doubt,
to the increasing
refinement
of their education,
and
the widening gulf
between
them
and
the rude violence
of
the poor --
is already leading to
the closing,
in their interest,
of
considerable portions
of the surface
of the land.
About London,
for instance,
perhaps
half
the prettier country
is
shut in
against intrusion.
And this same
widening gulf --
which
is due to
the length
and
expense
of
the higher
educational process
and
the increased facilities
for
and temptations
towards
refined habits
on the part
of the rich --
will make
that
exchange between
class and class,
that
promotion
by intermarriage
which
at present
retards
the splitting
of our species
along lines
of social stratification,
less
and
less frequent.
So,
in the end,
above ground
you must have
the Haves,
pursuing
pleasure
and
comfort
and
beauty,
and
below ground
the Have-nots,
the Workers
getting
continually
adapted
to the conditions
of
their labor.
Once they
were there,
they would
no doubt
have to
pay rent,
and
not a little
of it,
for the ventilation
of their caverns;
and
if they refused,
they would
starve
or
be suffocated
for arrears.
Such of them
as were
so constituted
as
to be miserable
and
rebellious
would die;
and,
in the end,
the balance
being permanent,
the survivors
would become
as
well adapted
to the conditions
of underground life,
and
as happy
in their way,
as
the
Upper-world people
were
to theirs.
As it seemed
to me,
the refined beauty
and
the etiolated pallor
followed
naturally enough.
The great triumph
of
Humanity
I had dreamed of
took
a different shape
in my mind.
It had been
no such triumph
of moral education
and
general cooperation
as I had imagined.
Instead,
I saw
a real aristocracy,
armed
with a perfected science
and
working
to a logical conclusion
the industrial system
of
to-day [1895].
Its triumph
had not been simply
a triumph
over Nature,
but
a triumph
over Nature
and
the fellow-man.
This,
I must warn you,
was my theory
at the time.
I had no
convenient cicerone
[that is,
a guide,
having
the knowledge
and
eloquence
of Cicero]
in the pattern
of
the Utopian books.
My explanation
may be
absolutely wrong.
I still think it
is
the most plausible one.
But even
on this supposition
the
balanced civilization
that was
at last attained
must have
long ago
passed its zenith,
and
was now
far
fallen
into
decay.
The
too-perfect security
of the Upper-worlders
had led them
to a slow movement
of degeneration,
to
a general dwindling
in size,
strength,
and
intelligence.
That
I could see
clearly enough
already.
What had happened
to the Under-grounders
I did not yet suspect;
but
from what I had seen
of
the Morlocks --
that,
by the by,
was the name
by which
these creatures
were called --
I could
imagine
that
the modification
of the human type
was even
far more profound
than
among
the "Eloi",
the beautiful race
that
I already knew.
Then came
troublesome
doubts.
Why had
the Morlocks
taken
my Time Machine?
For I felt sure
it was they
who had taken it.
Why, too,
if the Eloi
were masters,
could they
not restore
the machine
to me?
And
why were they
so terribly
afraid
of
the dark?
I proceeded,
as I have said,
to question
Weena
[his Eloi
companion]
about
this Under-world,
but
here again
I was disappointed.
At first
she
would not
understand
my questions,
and presently
she refused
to answer them.
She shivered
as though the
topic
were
unendurable.
And when
I pressed her,
perhaps a little
harshly,
she
burst into tears.
They were
the only tears,
except
my own,
I ever saw
in
that Golden Age.
When
I saw them
I ceased abruptly
to trouble
about
the Morlocks,
and
was
only concerned
in
banishing these
signs
of the human
inheritance
from
Weena's eyes.
And very soon
she was
smiling
and
clapping
her hands,
while I
solemnly
burned a match.
[...]
The above passages
are from
pages 61 - 64.]
+++
And now
I understood
to some
slight degree
at least
the reason
of the fear
of the little
Upper-world people
for the dark.
I wondered
vaguely
what foul villainy
it might be
that
the Morlocks did
under
the new moon.
I felt pretty sure now
that
my second hypothesis
was
all wrong.
The
Upper-world people
might once
have been
the favored
aristocracy,
and
the Morlocks
their
mechanical servants:
but that
had long since
passed away.
The two species
that
had resulted
from
the evolution of man
were
sliding down
towards,
or
had already arrived at,
an
altogether new
relationship.
The Eloi,
like
the Carlovingian kings,
had decayed
to a mere
beautiful
futility.
They still possessed
the earth
on sufferance:
since
the Morlocks,
subterranean
for
innumerable generations,
had come
at last
to find
the daylit surface
intolerable.
And
the Morlocks
made
their garments,
I inferred,
and
maintained them
in their
habitual needs,
perhaps
through
the survival
of an old habit
of service.
They did it
as
a standing horse
paws
with his foot,
or
as
a man
enjoys
killing animals
in
sport:
because
ancient
and
departed
necessities
had impressed it
on the organism.
But,
clearly
the old order
was
already in part
reversed.
The Nemesis
of
the delicate ones
was
creeping on
apace.
Ages ago,
thousands
of generations
ago,
man
had thrust
his brother man
out
of the ease
and
the sunshine.
And now
that brother
was coming back --
changed!
Already
the Eloi had begun
to learn
one old lesson
anew.
They were becoming
reacquainted
with
Fear.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from page 74.]
+++
You know
that great pause
that
comes upon things
before the dusk?
Even
the breeze
stops
in the trees.
To me
there is always
an air
of expectation
about that
evening stillness.
The sky
was
clear,
remote,
and
empty
save for
a few
horizontal bars
far down
in the sunset.
Well,
that night
the expectation
took the color
of my fears.
In that
darkling calm
my senses seemed
preternaturally
sharpened.
I fancied I
could even feel
the hollowness
of the ground
beneath my feet:
could,
indeed,
almost
see through it
the Morlocks
on their anthill
going hither
and thither
and
waiting
for
the dark.
In my excitement
I fancied
that they would
receive my invasion
of their burrows
as
a declaration of war.
And
why had they taken
my
Time Machine?
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 76 - 77.]
+++
Above me
shone the stars,
for the night
was very clear.
I felt
a certain sense
of
friendly comfort
in
their twinkling.
All
the old
constellations
had gone
from the sky,
however:
that slow movement
which is
imperceptible
in
a hundred
human lifetimes,
had
long since
rearranged them
in
unfamiliar groupings.
But
the Milky Way,
it seemed to me,
was
still
the same
tattered
streamer of star-dust
as
of yore.
Southward
(as I judged it)
was
a very bright
red star
that was new
to me;
it was
even more splendid
than
our own
green Sirius.
And
amid all these
scintillating
points of light
one bright planet
shone kindly
and steadily
like
the face
of an old friend.
Looking
at these stars
suddenly
dwarfed
my own troubles
and
all the gravities
of terrestrial life.
I thought of
their
unfathomable distance,
and
the slow
inevitable drift
of their movements
out of
the unknown past
into
the unknown future.
I thought of
the great
precessional cycle
that
the pole of the earth
describes.
Only forty times
had
that
silent revolution
occurred
during all the years
I had traversed.
And during
these few revolutions
all
the activity,
all
the traditions,
the complex
organizations,
the nations,
languages,
literatures,
aspirations,
even
the mere memory
of Man
as I knew him,
had been
swept
out of existence.
Instead
were these
frail creatures
who
had forgotten
their
high ancestry,
and
the white Things
of which
I went
in terror.
Then I thought
of
the Great Fear
that was
between
the two species,
and
for the first time,
with a sudden
shiver,
came
the clear
knowledge
of ...
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 78 - 79.]
+++
... from
the bottom
of my heart
I pitied
this
last feeble rill
from
the great flood
of humanity.
Clearly,
at some time
in
the Long-Ago
of
human decay
the Morlocks' food
had
run short.
Possibly they
had lived on rats
and
such-like vermin.
Even now
[1895]
a man
is far less
discriminating
and
exclusive
in his food
than he was --
far less
than any monkey.
His prejudice
against
human flesh
is
no
deep-seated instinct.
And so
these
inhuman
sons of men -- !
I tried
to look at the thing
in
a scientific spirit.
After all,
they were
less human
and
more remote
than
our
cannibal ancestors
of three
or four
thousand years ago.
And
the intelligence
that
would have made
this
state of things
a torment
had gone.
Why should I
trouble myself?
These Eloi
were mere
fatted cattle,
which
the ant-like
Morlocks
preserved
and
preyed upon --
probably saw to
the
breeding
of.
And there
was
Weena
dancing
at my side!
Then
I tried
to preserve
myself
from
the horror
that was coming
upon me,
by
regarding it
as
a rigorous punishment
of
human selfishness.
Man had been
content
to live in
ease
and
delight
upon the labors
of
his fellow-man,
had
taken
Necessity
as
his watchword
and
excuse,
and
in the fullness
of time
Necessity
had
come home
to him.
I even tried
a
Carlyle-like scorn
of
this wretched
aristocracy
in decay.
But
this attitude
of mind
was impossible.
However great
their
intellectual
degradation,
the Eloi
had kept
too much
of
the human form
not to claim
my sympathy,
and
to make
me
perforce
a sharer
in their degradation
and their
Fear.
[...]
Weena
I had
resolved
to
bring with me
to
our
own time
[1895].
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 80 - 81.]
+++
The material
of the Palaceproved
on examination
to be
indeed porcelain,
and
along the face of it
I saw an inscription
in
some
unknown character.
I thought,
rather foolishly,
that
Weena
might help me
to
interpret this,
but
I only learned that
the bare idea
of writing
had
never entered
her head.
She
always seemed
to me,
I fancy,
more human
than she was,
perhaps because
her affection
was
so human.
Within
the big valves
of the door --
which were
open and broken --
we found,
instead of
the customary hall,
a long gallery
lit
by
many side windows.
At
the first glance
I was reminded
of
a museum.
The tiled floor
was thick with dust,
and
a remarkable array
of miscellaneous objects
was shrouded
in
the
same grey covering.
Then I perceived,
standing
strange and gaunt
in the center
of the hall,
what was clearly
the lower part
of
a huge skeleton.
I recognized
by
the oblique feet
that it was
some
extinct creature
after the fashion of
the Megatherium.
The skull
and
the upper bones
lay beside it
in the thick dust,
and
in one place,
where rain-water
had dropped through
a leak in the roof,
the thing itself
had been
worn away.
Further in the gallery
was
the huge skeleton barrel
of a Brontosaurus.
My
museum hypothesis
was confirmed.
Going
towards the side
I found
what appeared to be
sloping shelves,
and
clearing away
the thick dust,
I found
the old familiar
glass cases
of
our own time
[1895].
But they
must have been
airtight
to judge from
the fair preservation
of
some of their contents.
Clearly
we stood among
the ruins
of
some latter-day
South Kensington!
Here, apparently,
was
the Palaeontological Section,
and
a very splendid array
of fossils
it must have been,
though
the inevitable
process of decay
that had been staved off
for a time,
and
had,
through
the extinction
of bacteria and fungi,
lost
ninety-nine hundredths
of its force,
was
nevertheless,
with
extreme sureness
if with
extreme
slowness
at work again
upon
all its treasures.
[...]
And
at first
I was
so much surprised
by
this ancient monument
of an intellectual age,
that
I gave no thought
to the possibilities
it presented.
[...]
To judge
from the size
of the place,
this
Palace
of Green Porcelain
had a great deal
more in it
than
a Gallery
of Palaeontology;
possibly
historical galleries;
it might be,
even
a library!
[...]
Apparently
this section
had been devoted
to
natural history,
but
everything had
long since
passed
out of recognition.
A few shriveled
and blackened
vestiges
of
what had once been
stuffed animals,
desiccated mummies
in jars
that had
once held spirit,
a brown dust
of departed plants:
that
was all!
I was sorry
for that,
because
I should have
been glad to trace
the patent
readjustments
by which
the conquest
of animated nature
had been attained.
Then we came
to a gallery
of
simply
colossal proportions,
but
singularly ill-lit,
the floor of it
running downward
at a slight angle
from the end
at which I entered.
At intervals
white gloves
hung
from the ceiling --
many of them
cracked and smashed --
which suggested
that originally
the place
had been
artificially lit.
Here
I was more
in my element,
for
rising
on either
side of me
were
the huge bulks
of big machines,
all greatly corroded
and
many broken down,
but some
still fairly complete.
You know
I have
a certain weakness
for mechanism,
and I was inclined
to linger among these;
the more so
as
for the most part
they had
the interest of puzzles,
and I could make
only
the vaguest guesses
at
what
they were for.
I fancied
that if
I could solve
their puzzles
I should
find myself
in possession
of powers
that might be
of use
against the Morlocks.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from pages 84 - 85.]
+++
Well,
mace
in one hand
and
Weena
in the other,
I went out
of that gallery
and into
another
and
still larger one,
which
at
the first glance
reminded me
of
a military chapel
hung
with tattered flags.
The
brown
and charred
rags
that hung
from
the sides of it,
I presently recognized
as
the decaying vestiges
of books.
They had
long since
dropped
to pieces,
and
every semblance
of print
had
left them.
But
here and there
were
warped boards
and
cracked
metallic clasps
that
told the tale
well enough.
Had I been
a literary man
I might,
perhaps,
have moralized
upon
the futility
of all ambition.
But as it was,
the thing
that struck me
with keenest force
was
the enormous waste
of labor
to which
this
somber wilderness
of
rotting paper testified.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from page 87.]
In another
place
was a vast array
of idols --
Polynesian,
Mexican,
Grecian,
Phoenician,
every country
on earth
I should think.
And here,
yielding to
an
irresistible impulse,
I wrote
my name
upon the nose
of
a steatite monster
from
South America
that particularly
took my fancy.
[...]
[The passage
above
is from page 89.]
++++++++
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