Archive for the ‘Authors’ Category
Concerning the T.G. Hueler Archive of Oracular Texts Daily Fortune Book
Thursday, March 19th, 2009
The T.G. Hueler Archive of Oracular Texts was founded in 1913, when a wave of anti-German sentiment left half the European collection room empty in the library of Snelson University.
Three crows turning in a clouded sky. Misfortune transformed to unexpected fortune.
— The Wheat Stalk Predictory, Brownville, Nebraska, 1881.
In the 1920’s, the archivists began a daily tradition of randomly choosing a prediction from one of the oracles and copying it into a large accounting book.
On a Thursday, a new moon in a cloudless sky betokens a chance meeting with an old acquaintance. On a Friday, it means bad news that has traveled a great distance.
— Proverbs from the Tchul Archipelago, New Haven, Connecticut, 1932.
By the mid-1950’s, the archive’s books of prophecy, fortune-telling, proverbs, and superstitions had taken over most of the basement in south wing.
Sand in one’s pockets: a sure sign a steady income will soon be found.
— Lunenhalt’s Almanac (translated), Basel, Switzerland, 1847.
In the late 1989, a fire razed most of Snelson’s old campus, including the library, and only fragments of the collection were sifted from the ashes.
Anvil. Lemon. Whippoorwill.
–The Oracle of the Nouns, place and date of publication unknown.
The staff lounge Daily Fortune Book, however, had grown to three ledgers, and was luckily down in the conservator’s lab in the most fireproof sub-basement, being bound into a single volume.
All in flammes devour’ed. All save one.
–The Wisdome of the Elements, Devonshire, England, 1714.
The conservators included several hundred blank pages for future entries, and the librarians in the new library’s rare book room transcribe one of the charred fragments from the old library into it each day.
To run wearing a blue hat brings dreams of snake. Singing in a green scarf induces premonitions of the next day’s weather.
–title, place of publication, and date unknown
A work-study employee in the rare book room calculated there are fragments for three years worth of entries.
If an odd number of grains of rice remain, success. If an even number, failure. If the number is divisible by three, the outcome may be altered by great effort.
This didn’t worry anyone until today’s entry:
There may be fortunes without days, but not days without fortunes.
The library staff has petitioned the board of trustees for funds to begin acquiring books and reestablish the archive.
Send in the Truth Smellers
Wednesday, March 18th, 2009
The two ships hung in the open silence of space as if they were already depicted in a tapestry: the Gaian ship glittering with fretwork and enamel and the perlescent oval of the Free and Independent Peaceful Coalition of Jupiter’s Moons. The Negotiators’ Bubble between them emptied; the negotiators had called it a day (because that was easier than calling it a biorhythmic activity episode).
“Here they come,” said the Fire Keeper as the Gaian team came up the gangway. “Hope your weird plan worked.”
“Me too,” said the Senecan Sachem, holding out a glass of water to the Speaker.
“No deal yet,” she shrugged, and took a long drink.
“Any complaints about the – additions – to your team?”
“They thought we were weird bringing teenagers with us, but figured it was just a cultural thing.”
Behind her the three youngest members of her team traded their ceremonial robes for tattered jeans and buckskin shirts.
“What did you think of the Jupiter people?” said the Speaker, turning to them.
“I don’t know,” said the youngest teenager, and then stood with his mouth open.
The tallest boy shook his head and asked, “Can I say it however?” looking only at the Speaker.
“Just don’t swear in front of the grandfathers.”
“Okay. Frankly, they were kind of full of it.”
The third teenager nodded gravely, carefully restarting each of her seven holotoos.
“They talk like my mom,” she said. “You know, like they learned it out of a blog on how to get what you want without ever really asking for it or whatever.”
The Sachem looked toward the treaty analysts.
“You have anything for us yet, Hannah? Adsila?”
“The kids are basically right. It looks really nice on the surface, but it’s a load of… things you shouldn’t say in front of the grandfathers.”
After dinner, in private, the Sachem said to the Fire Keeper, “I was right, wasn’t I?”
He got a grunt.
“I got the idea when my youngest grandson got upset about something. Those kids are really on alert any time an adult is hypocritical. It’s perfect. They look harmless – at least with the robes on – like what the Speaker said – a Cultural Thing.”
“They’re so eloquent, too,” said the Fire Keeper.
“Oh, shut up. I want to give them some name nobody will bother to translate. What’s Onandaga for ‘truth smeller?'”