One planet’s journey to freedom has now been told via this blog, from the perspective of Ray Kaliber, who has received much of the credit for bringing about the Commonwealth of Sirius 4. The task that remains for us is to compile these sometimes rambling thoughts into a coherent narrative for you, the reader. Our goal is to make this available for your purchase and perusal on Dec. 15, 2012.
Why that date? This is a story of liberty, and on Dec. 15, 1791, a new nation on Earth ratified a Bill of Rights, intended to affirm the rights of the individual by prohibiting the new nation’s government from violating those rights. In the centuries since, that list of 10 tenets has been the subject of much discussion.
The nation had been forged a few years earlier by violent revolution against a far-off state that had routinely trampled on the rights on the list, as states are wont to do. The Bill of Rights was championed by people not so concerned about that far-off former threat as about making sure the newly formed state never behaved as tyrannically, ensuring that the revolution did not turn out to be an imaginary one.
To release the story of The Imaginary Revolution on Dec. 15, then, is a nod to the anniversary of that revolutionary document. The extent to which Ray Kaliber’s story is relevant to the ongoing discussion is entirely up to the reader.
Watch this blog and warrenbluhm.com for updates about how to obtain your copy of The Imaginary Revolution.
Showing posts with label imaginary revolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imaginary revolution. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Entry 71. Getting there
Although a few people seemed to agree with me about the value of noncooperation versus violent revolution, and I was being heard by influential people, it wasn’t a popular opinion when there was an occupying force from Earth walking the streets. But when Badiah Sinclair began to act like Silas Fredersen, there were no calls for civil war. Perhaps some grumbling, and there definitely were more people who came to hear me speak.
Also giving me some assurance was the fact that of the two childhood friends, I was still the only one who had ever stared down the barrel of an assassin’s gun. Ironic, that – but men and women of peace do make the violent anxious.
Badiah Sinclair had been probably the most popular political figure Sirius 4 would ever see, and that made the disappointment that much greater when he began to run the government – and attempted to run our lives – just like pretty much everyone who had come before him. But few people wanted to do violence to him or to any of our neighbors who served on the security force. Again: The nature of Sirians is to leave our neighbors alone as long as our neighbors leave us free to live our own lives.
That’s why noncooperation could work on Sirius 4. I dare say it would work on any world where that core value is instilled, but our world was especially ripe for the effort.
Therefore it wasn’t long before the questions at my lectures became more specific and less about the general theory of passive resistance.
For instance: “What would a Jim Simmons do, if an armed force was sent to make sure his building was torn down?”
That was always a tough question.
“Find a way to stay alive,” I would reply. Simmons’ death played out exactly as successful passive resistance could, except perhaps that he displayed a rifle and the intention to use it. Because he was willing to die for the principle of using his own property as he saw fit, the government acted in an obviously foolish way, and the result was public outrage loud enough that the Earthian rulers withdrew, albeit temporarily. The idea was to do anything to block the tyrant’s progress, short of killing or maiming him.
There was one assuring thing – zoning administrators under Badi Sinclair weren’t going to bring in army units to back themselves up. A Jim Simmons could probably win his point by blocking the progress of any heavy equipment sent to raze his building, if it got to that.
The more everyday applications of noncooperation were a little less onerous. If the government bans the sale of alcohol, buy and sell alcohol anyway. If it taxes something for the sake of taxing it, don’t pay the tax. If called to jury duty against someone charged with a crime that shouldn’t be a crime, don’t show up. If the government bans the use of native salt, march to the sea and gather salt. Anything to throw a monkey wrench into the operation of an overreaching government.
Heads would always begin to nod in understanding and agreement.
Also giving me some assurance was the fact that of the two childhood friends, I was still the only one who had ever stared down the barrel of an assassin’s gun. Ironic, that – but men and women of peace do make the violent anxious.
Badiah Sinclair had been probably the most popular political figure Sirius 4 would ever see, and that made the disappointment that much greater when he began to run the government – and attempted to run our lives – just like pretty much everyone who had come before him. But few people wanted to do violence to him or to any of our neighbors who served on the security force. Again: The nature of Sirians is to leave our neighbors alone as long as our neighbors leave us free to live our own lives.
That’s why noncooperation could work on Sirius 4. I dare say it would work on any world where that core value is instilled, but our world was especially ripe for the effort.
Therefore it wasn’t long before the questions at my lectures became more specific and less about the general theory of passive resistance.
For instance: “What would a Jim Simmons do, if an armed force was sent to make sure his building was torn down?”
That was always a tough question.
“Find a way to stay alive,” I would reply. Simmons’ death played out exactly as successful passive resistance could, except perhaps that he displayed a rifle and the intention to use it. Because he was willing to die for the principle of using his own property as he saw fit, the government acted in an obviously foolish way, and the result was public outrage loud enough that the Earthian rulers withdrew, albeit temporarily. The idea was to do anything to block the tyrant’s progress, short of killing or maiming him.
There was one assuring thing – zoning administrators under Badi Sinclair weren’t going to bring in army units to back themselves up. A Jim Simmons could probably win his point by blocking the progress of any heavy equipment sent to raze his building, if it got to that.
The more everyday applications of noncooperation were a little less onerous. If the government bans the sale of alcohol, buy and sell alcohol anyway. If it taxes something for the sake of taxing it, don’t pay the tax. If called to jury duty against someone charged with a crime that shouldn’t be a crime, don’t show up. If the government bans the use of native salt, march to the sea and gather salt. Anything to throw a monkey wrench into the operation of an overreaching government.
Heads would always begin to nod in understanding and agreement.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Entry 70. Same as the old
President Badiah Sinclair addressed the planet and spoke about how the existing structure of the government remained in place, but now it belonged to us, not the Earthians. And that was comforting for the moment.
“We are a free world led by free people,” he said. If it seemed things were very much still the same, well, we still had that “free world, free people” image to fall back on. And in one mighty symbol of the difference, the Imaginary Structures plant at Ganges Pass was reopened.
Life without the tether to Earth was a bit of a challenge, especially for those whose role in life had been to pass wealth from Sirius 4 back to the old world and accept a fraction of the tribute back in return. But it wasn’t long before the treasury wasn’t paying all of the bills. To keep the new/old government running, Sinclair and his council implemented new regulations, some rationing and even curfews – so that some of the police force could have an occasional night off and still others could be laid off.
“Why do you still need all this bureaucracy, anyway?” I said during one of our increasingly rare lunches together. “Most of your government apparatus was created to facilitate the subjugation of Sirius 4 to Earth’s orbit. Not needed anymore.”
“Ray, I know it seems unnecessary,” the president said in a tone that was starting to sound like a parent lecturing a willful child. “Before you can obtain that ideal society based on liberty, there must be a period of transition to pave the way. We can’t just stop enforcing the law one day.”
“If it’s a bad or obsolete law, why not?”
My old friend laughed like my old friend, but also like someone who was getting tired of being patient. “Come on. What do you do with criminals? How do you enforce regulations?”
“You’re not hearing me, Badi. A lot of those regulations were designed to keep us in line. You’ve got a planet full of people who were tired of being told how to live their lives by someone who wasn’t here.”
“But now their leaders are here; the power is in Sirian hands.”
“The power to do what? Tell us how to live our lives? Remember the part where we were tired of that?”
“It’s only for a little while, until the people are ready for a little more autonomy,” Badi said, now approaching irritability. “You don’t just change everything overnight.”
“Well, actually, that’s the purpose of a revolution, isn’t it? When do you decide when it’s OK to loosen the chains?”
“That’s a little unfair, to talk about chains, Ray,” he said. “Really? Chains?”
“When is it OK to ‘give us a little more autonomy’?” I persisted.
“We’ll know when we’re there.”
About a year after the Earthians left, it was clear we weren’t going to get “there” anytime soon.
Entry 71
“We are a free world led by free people,” he said. If it seemed things were very much still the same, well, we still had that “free world, free people” image to fall back on. And in one mighty symbol of the difference, the Imaginary Structures plant at Ganges Pass was reopened.
Life without the tether to Earth was a bit of a challenge, especially for those whose role in life had been to pass wealth from Sirius 4 back to the old world and accept a fraction of the tribute back in return. But it wasn’t long before the treasury wasn’t paying all of the bills. To keep the new/old government running, Sinclair and his council implemented new regulations, some rationing and even curfews – so that some of the police force could have an occasional night off and still others could be laid off.
“Why do you still need all this bureaucracy, anyway?” I said during one of our increasingly rare lunches together. “Most of your government apparatus was created to facilitate the subjugation of Sirius 4 to Earth’s orbit. Not needed anymore.”
“Ray, I know it seems unnecessary,” the president said in a tone that was starting to sound like a parent lecturing a willful child. “Before you can obtain that ideal society based on liberty, there must be a period of transition to pave the way. We can’t just stop enforcing the law one day.”
“If it’s a bad or obsolete law, why not?”
My old friend laughed like my old friend, but also like someone who was getting tired of being patient. “Come on. What do you do with criminals? How do you enforce regulations?”
“You’re not hearing me, Badi. A lot of those regulations were designed to keep us in line. You’ve got a planet full of people who were tired of being told how to live their lives by someone who wasn’t here.”
“But now their leaders are here; the power is in Sirian hands.”
“The power to do what? Tell us how to live our lives? Remember the part where we were tired of that?”
“It’s only for a little while, until the people are ready for a little more autonomy,” Badi said, now approaching irritability. “You don’t just change everything overnight.”
“Well, actually, that’s the purpose of a revolution, isn’t it? When do you decide when it’s OK to loosen the chains?”
“That’s a little unfair, to talk about chains, Ray,” he said. “Really? Chains?”
“When is it OK to ‘give us a little more autonomy’?” I persisted.
“We’ll know when we’re there.”
About a year after the Earthians left, it was clear we weren’t going to get “there” anytime soon.
Entry 71
Monday, October 1, 2012
Entry 67. Imaginary victory
But the war had to play itself out – there were not enough thinkers thinking like John, like Buffalo, like me.
And play itself out it did. Dozens of Earthians breathed their last each week, and their bodies were returned to their home planet. Dozens of Sirians also died defending their homeworld, and their ashes returned to the soil.
As is the case in war, the killings did not change minds. Earthians continued to believe they had a claim to Sirius 4, and the people of Sirius 4 were more convinced than ever that Earth had no such claim. But as is usually the case in war, those who lived in the disputed territory held the greatest resolve.
It was not a very long time – although it seemed forever to those who lost loved ones – before Earth requested a cease fire and negotiations were hastily resumed. not long after that, the peacekeepers were gathered up and prepared to be shipped back to Earth.
Lt. Joshua True and other dignitaries from Earth made a great showing of how Sirius 4 was now prepared to live on without peacekeepers, and President Badiah Sinclair – now recognized as such by the departing forces – was magnaminous enough to allow them to live the illusion that they were leaving because their job was done.
Badi told me later that as they made their final farewells, True gripped his hand as hard as he could – and he could grip mightily – and said, “This is your choice, Sinclair, but you know we’ll be ready when it all falls apart on you.”
Smiling as politically as he could and wincing in pain, Sinclair replied, “Thanks for the warning. We’ll stay ready to chase you away again.”
True’s eyes narrowed – true be told, he always kept his eyes narrowed – and he strode onto his ship without another word. Without a sound beyond their faint mosquito-like buzz, the imagination-powered ships rose into the sky and were gone, quietly and without fanfare.
They were accompanied by the roar of the crowd that had come to see them off. Badiah took the opportunity to make a speech – he was nothing if not a politician, after all.
It was quite a stirring speech, as you know, with as poignant turns of phrase as had ever been turned on Sirius 4. No longer simply a leader with dreams of a better tomorrow, Badi was now a great planetary hero who had delivered on the promise.
There is much talk about “us” in that speech – We turned back the invaders, and now we will move forward together, that sort of thing – and in all honesty there was only one moment when I winced and wondered if it may all be an illusion.
That was when the “we” turned singular: “Let me tell you about my vision for a free Sirius 4,” he said.
The words of that ancient song whispered through my mind – “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss” – but were drowned out by the crowd’s approving roar.
Entry 68
And play itself out it did. Dozens of Earthians breathed their last each week, and their bodies were returned to their home planet. Dozens of Sirians also died defending their homeworld, and their ashes returned to the soil.
As is the case in war, the killings did not change minds. Earthians continued to believe they had a claim to Sirius 4, and the people of Sirius 4 were more convinced than ever that Earth had no such claim. But as is usually the case in war, those who lived in the disputed territory held the greatest resolve.
It was not a very long time – although it seemed forever to those who lost loved ones – before Earth requested a cease fire and negotiations were hastily resumed. not long after that, the peacekeepers were gathered up and prepared to be shipped back to Earth.
Lt. Joshua True and other dignitaries from Earth made a great showing of how Sirius 4 was now prepared to live on without peacekeepers, and President Badiah Sinclair – now recognized as such by the departing forces – was magnaminous enough to allow them to live the illusion that they were leaving because their job was done.
Badi told me later that as they made their final farewells, True gripped his hand as hard as he could – and he could grip mightily – and said, “This is your choice, Sinclair, but you know we’ll be ready when it all falls apart on you.”
Smiling as politically as he could and wincing in pain, Sinclair replied, “Thanks for the warning. We’ll stay ready to chase you away again.”
True’s eyes narrowed – true be told, he always kept his eyes narrowed – and he strode onto his ship without another word. Without a sound beyond their faint mosquito-like buzz, the imagination-powered ships rose into the sky and were gone, quietly and without fanfare.
They were accompanied by the roar of the crowd that had come to see them off. Badiah took the opportunity to make a speech – he was nothing if not a politician, after all.
It was quite a stirring speech, as you know, with as poignant turns of phrase as had ever been turned on Sirius 4. No longer simply a leader with dreams of a better tomorrow, Badi was now a great planetary hero who had delivered on the promise.
There is much talk about “us” in that speech – We turned back the invaders, and now we will move forward together, that sort of thing – and in all honesty there was only one moment when I winced and wondered if it may all be an illusion.
That was when the “we” turned singular: “Let me tell you about my vision for a free Sirius 4,” he said.
The words of that ancient song whispered through my mind – “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss” – but were drowned out by the crowd’s approving roar.
Entry 68
Monday, September 17, 2012
Entry 62. Messengers of nonviolence
“Guy comes to me, his liver’s shot, his wife left him, he’s broke, I think his dog might have died, too,” John Hemlock said to general laughter. “He says, ‘Why would God do this to me?’ The thing is, I said, God didn’t do anything to you, son, he’s only honoring the choices you made over the years. Your life is the product of the choices you make, moment by moment. You can hang on tight, or you can relax and turn the controls over to Jesus.”
Now, everyone knew where Johnny would be coming from, so those who chose to think about the religious themes took them seriously, and those who were not so sure took what he had to say that they could apply to their lives and left the rest to simmer. That’s what I mean when I say maybe Sirians are a special breed where this could work – most of us learned early to live and let live. We have no special need to convert other people to our way of thinking, as long as they don’t try to convert us to theirs. And in that way, John Hemlock is the perfect preacher for our planet. He does his share of converting but he doesn’t fuss for the lost souls who choose to stay lost – or those who get themselves found by other means.
My half of the talking didn’t touch on the supernatural, although once I added John’s “Love your neighbor as yourself” verbiage I guess it did have that undercurrent. I was not trying to win souls as much as minds when I said it: It simply makes sense looking at human nature that the way you treat others is reflected in the way they treat you.
“When you overthrow a violent regime violently, you only replace one violence with another,” I’d say. “If you want fundamental change, you must make fundamental changes in the way you approach the problem. A government or a society that solves its problems by killing or maiming its adversaries is not going to change minds – and changing minds is the only way to achieve the real goal: ending tyranny.”
The audiences had been growing, but they dropped off again after armed soldiers began to patrol the streets. One thing that can be said about violence is that it’s quicker, although not at all effective in the long run as we learned. Ramsey Sardonicus proved in Colorado that you can take a regime down in a hurry by ignoring it, but the people of Sirius 4 wanted to try taking the tyrants on their own terms first. The only time I resented that approach was when Lt. Joshua True tried turning my resistance to violence on its head.
Entry 63
Now, everyone knew where Johnny would be coming from, so those who chose to think about the religious themes took them seriously, and those who were not so sure took what he had to say that they could apply to their lives and left the rest to simmer. That’s what I mean when I say maybe Sirians are a special breed where this could work – most of us learned early to live and let live. We have no special need to convert other people to our way of thinking, as long as they don’t try to convert us to theirs. And in that way, John Hemlock is the perfect preacher for our planet. He does his share of converting but he doesn’t fuss for the lost souls who choose to stay lost – or those who get themselves found by other means.
My half of the talking didn’t touch on the supernatural, although once I added John’s “Love your neighbor as yourself” verbiage I guess it did have that undercurrent. I was not trying to win souls as much as minds when I said it: It simply makes sense looking at human nature that the way you treat others is reflected in the way they treat you.
“When you overthrow a violent regime violently, you only replace one violence with another,” I’d say. “If you want fundamental change, you must make fundamental changes in the way you approach the problem. A government or a society that solves its problems by killing or maiming its adversaries is not going to change minds – and changing minds is the only way to achieve the real goal: ending tyranny.”
The audiences had been growing, but they dropped off again after armed soldiers began to patrol the streets. One thing that can be said about violence is that it’s quicker, although not at all effective in the long run as we learned. Ramsey Sardonicus proved in Colorado that you can take a regime down in a hurry by ignoring it, but the people of Sirius 4 wanted to try taking the tyrants on their own terms first. The only time I resented that approach was when Lt. Joshua True tried turning my resistance to violence on its head.
Entry 63
Friday, September 7, 2012
Entry 60. Off to the war
“My father is descended from a famous singer around 400 years ago, near the middle of Earth’s 20th century,” Buffalo smiled at me over a glass of Beaujolais Ptolémée.
“I’ve heard of him,” I said. “Didn’t he write that old folk song, ‘If I Should Fall Behind’?”
“It’s possible. I probably should know more about him than I do, family ties and all, but I really don’t, it was so long ago,” she admitted. “And then my mother can trace her family back to another singer from around the same time, who once belonged to an ensemble called Buffalo Springfield.”
“What was his name?”
“You’d think I would remember. I’d have to ask Mom.”
“So your name is a 400-year-old musical pun,” I said, and she giggled shyly, which was completely out of character but made her adorable. “With a pedigree like that, I can see why you don’t want to shorten it.”
And that sort of chilled the moment. “No. I don’t want to shorten it.” As in, we’re not going to discuss that nickname any further.
“Have you ever heard any of the music your ancestors recorded?” I steered the conversation back on track.
“A little, not much,” she said. “It’s pretty dated, it’s quaint, but you know, it’s ancient music. And Earthian – hard to relate to.”
We finished the wine over laughter and more discussion of Earth music from centuries ago. And now, a few weeks later, she was standing at the door to my home with a rifle slung over her shoulder.
“I can leave it outside if you want,” she said awkwardly, indicating the gun.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” I said, ushering her in with a kiss on the cheek. “Just because I don’t use them on people personally doesn’t mean I object to their presence.”
She had been taking some training as a sniper, and it turned out she was a natural, a simple evolution from her hunting skills. She was anticipating that she would soon be sent out on the field to dispatch Earthians.
“I know you don’t approve,” she said slowly. “But I have to do this.”
I nodded. “You have to do what you think is the right thing, Buffalo. It’s not what I would do, but this is your choice, your life.”
“We’re still, well, we’re still what we are, aren’t we?”
My Lord, the confusion in my soul over this. Everything in my being screamed that we were designed to be two halves of a whole, but how could I make a life with someone who rejected my most deeply held core belief? It felt like a choice between tearing out my heart or cutting off my head.
After a few moments of trying to form something to say, I finally managed, “Let’s get this revolution out of the way, and then we’ll see where we stand.”
That was where we agreed to leave it. A few minutes later she went off to kill Earthians, and I retreated to the darkest loneliness I’ve ever known.
Entry 61
“I’ve heard of him,” I said. “Didn’t he write that old folk song, ‘If I Should Fall Behind’?”
“It’s possible. I probably should know more about him than I do, family ties and all, but I really don’t, it was so long ago,” she admitted. “And then my mother can trace her family back to another singer from around the same time, who once belonged to an ensemble called Buffalo Springfield.”
“What was his name?”
“You’d think I would remember. I’d have to ask Mom.”
“So your name is a 400-year-old musical pun,” I said, and she giggled shyly, which was completely out of character but made her adorable. “With a pedigree like that, I can see why you don’t want to shorten it.”
And that sort of chilled the moment. “No. I don’t want to shorten it.” As in, we’re not going to discuss that nickname any further.
“Have you ever heard any of the music your ancestors recorded?” I steered the conversation back on track.
“A little, not much,” she said. “It’s pretty dated, it’s quaint, but you know, it’s ancient music. And Earthian – hard to relate to.”
We finished the wine over laughter and more discussion of Earth music from centuries ago. And now, a few weeks later, she was standing at the door to my home with a rifle slung over her shoulder.
“I can leave it outside if you want,” she said awkwardly, indicating the gun.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” I said, ushering her in with a kiss on the cheek. “Just because I don’t use them on people personally doesn’t mean I object to their presence.”
She had been taking some training as a sniper, and it turned out she was a natural, a simple evolution from her hunting skills. She was anticipating that she would soon be sent out on the field to dispatch Earthians.
“I know you don’t approve,” she said slowly. “But I have to do this.”
I nodded. “You have to do what you think is the right thing, Buffalo. It’s not what I would do, but this is your choice, your life.”
“We’re still, well, we’re still what we are, aren’t we?”
My Lord, the confusion in my soul over this. Everything in my being screamed that we were designed to be two halves of a whole, but how could I make a life with someone who rejected my most deeply held core belief? It felt like a choice between tearing out my heart or cutting off my head.
After a few moments of trying to form something to say, I finally managed, “Let’s get this revolution out of the way, and then we’ll see where we stand.”
That was where we agreed to leave it. A few minutes later she went off to kill Earthians, and I retreated to the darkest loneliness I’ve ever known.
Entry 61
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Entry 59. Twelve dreams finished
Numbers dehumanize. It is one thing to talk about a dozen Earthian soldiers ambushed and killed; it is quite another to tell each man and woman’s individual story. For that is who died that day – not 12 soldiers but 12 ongoing dreams.
You want numbers? Those 12 people had spent a total of 281 years getting to that day. From the challenge of learning to walk to the joy and heartbreak of their first love, they each had accumulated at least two decades of life experience, working their way toward adulthood painstakingly. Some were married, three had known the joy of making new life but would not know the challenge of raising their children and watching them succeed and stumble.
All of them had ideas about where they wanted their lives to go; some had precise goals, some had a vague vision. Like most people, they wanted to make a difference, and they did make a difference – that was clear to all of the hundreds of people who were affected by their sudden and early deaths.
But they did not make the difference that Lt. Joshua True and his superiors intended. They did not convince the people of Sirius 4 to accept the rule of Earth. Nor did their deaths do anything to convince True that Sirius 4 should remain independent. That was the central disagreement, wasn’t it? Instead the taking of lives made True that much more intransigent, more eager to punish the people of Sirius 4 for daring to breathe free.
None of us has 281 years to live the life we desire. Divide that number by 12, and it’s not near enough time.
Entry 60
You want numbers? Those 12 people had spent a total of 281 years getting to that day. From the challenge of learning to walk to the joy and heartbreak of their first love, they each had accumulated at least two decades of life experience, working their way toward adulthood painstakingly. Some were married, three had known the joy of making new life but would not know the challenge of raising their children and watching them succeed and stumble.
All of them had ideas about where they wanted their lives to go; some had precise goals, some had a vague vision. Like most people, they wanted to make a difference, and they did make a difference – that was clear to all of the hundreds of people who were affected by their sudden and early deaths.
But they did not make the difference that Lt. Joshua True and his superiors intended. They did not convince the people of Sirius 4 to accept the rule of Earth. Nor did their deaths do anything to convince True that Sirius 4 should remain independent. That was the central disagreement, wasn’t it? Instead the taking of lives made True that much more intransigent, more eager to punish the people of Sirius 4 for daring to breathe free.
None of us has 281 years to live the life we desire. Divide that number by 12, and it’s not near enough time.
Entry 60
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Entry 41. The governor
Silas Fredersen was not a bad man. But he will not be remembered as a good man.
Appointed governor of Sirius 4 in S4Y 132, he had the unenviable task of implementing increasingly unreasonable Earthian policies over an increasingly restless populace. He was a true believer, but only to a point.
It made perfect sense to him, for example, that the people of Sirius 4 had a perpetual debt to Earth for the investments made more than a century earlier – the interstellar flights, the establishment of bases, the construction of the oxygen-nitrogen generators. He had no problem collecting our taxes and transferring them to unseen and, to us, irrelevant bureaucrats 8.6 light years away.
But he always admitted he felt uncomfortable that he was the leader of Sirius 4 not because we wanted him but because one of those unseen and irrelevant bureaucrats selected him to rule over us.
That instinct is one big reason why I say he was not a bad man; he understood the need of free men and women to rule themselves.
That instinct is what made him able to sustain negotiations for Sirius 4 independence for three full years, even as it became increasingly obvious that his Earthian masters were not going to let us be any more independent than they were willing to dictate.
“Silas always made us feel like he believed in our ultimate goal, to let Sirians determine the future of Sirius 4,” Sen. Badiah Sinclair told me as we watched the ship carry Fredersen and the last of his security forces fly away on that fateful day in S4Y 138. “I think that’s what kept us at the table.”
History later showed that Fredersen convinced Earth not to let the Simmons incident escalate into full-blown revolution, instead retreating back to the homeworld and allowing us to feel our oats as an independent planet for a couple of years. That was how long it took for Earth to decide it couldn’t live without our tax payments after all, and they sent Joshua True to collect our freedom.
Without Fredersen’s reluctance to make Jim Simmons just the first of many martyrs for the cause, the bloody phase of our story would have come much sooner. And perhaps we would have lost that war. Perhaps we needed to taste a couple of years of freedom to fully appreciate its flavor.
So for all of those reasons, I believe Silas Fredersen was not a bad man. In some ways he was even heroic. But he also was responsible for running a government where a bureaucrat felt justified murdering a landowner for defending his right to erect a pole building 10 centimeters closer to his property line than the law allowed.
Therefore, we won’t ever remember him as a good man, either.
Entry 42
Appointed governor of Sirius 4 in S4Y 132, he had the unenviable task of implementing increasingly unreasonable Earthian policies over an increasingly restless populace. He was a true believer, but only to a point.
It made perfect sense to him, for example, that the people of Sirius 4 had a perpetual debt to Earth for the investments made more than a century earlier – the interstellar flights, the establishment of bases, the construction of the oxygen-nitrogen generators. He had no problem collecting our taxes and transferring them to unseen and, to us, irrelevant bureaucrats 8.6 light years away.
But he always admitted he felt uncomfortable that he was the leader of Sirius 4 not because we wanted him but because one of those unseen and irrelevant bureaucrats selected him to rule over us.
That instinct is one big reason why I say he was not a bad man; he understood the need of free men and women to rule themselves.
That instinct is what made him able to sustain negotiations for Sirius 4 independence for three full years, even as it became increasingly obvious that his Earthian masters were not going to let us be any more independent than they were willing to dictate.
“Silas always made us feel like he believed in our ultimate goal, to let Sirians determine the future of Sirius 4,” Sen. Badiah Sinclair told me as we watched the ship carry Fredersen and the last of his security forces fly away on that fateful day in S4Y 138. “I think that’s what kept us at the table.”
History later showed that Fredersen convinced Earth not to let the Simmons incident escalate into full-blown revolution, instead retreating back to the homeworld and allowing us to feel our oats as an independent planet for a couple of years. That was how long it took for Earth to decide it couldn’t live without our tax payments after all, and they sent Joshua True to collect our freedom.
Without Fredersen’s reluctance to make Jim Simmons just the first of many martyrs for the cause, the bloody phase of our story would have come much sooner. And perhaps we would have lost that war. Perhaps we needed to taste a couple of years of freedom to fully appreciate its flavor.
So for all of those reasons, I believe Silas Fredersen was not a bad man. In some ways he was even heroic. But he also was responsible for running a government where a bureaucrat felt justified murdering a landowner for defending his right to erect a pole building 10 centimeters closer to his property line than the law allowed.
Therefore, we won’t ever remember him as a good man, either.
Entry 42
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Entry 40. Conflict of interest
I should have seen it coming. In fact, I did see it coming: You may recall that when I first proposed meeting Buffalo Springsteen outside of the classroom, my opening words were, “Buffalo, it’s extremely inappropriate for me to ask given our teacher-student relationship, but –”
She expected nothing from me in the classroom that would be based on anything that happened between us outside the classroom, and I expected nothing from her that would motivate me to assess her performance as a student differently. We set those boundaries long before we envisioned romantic walks along the beach or kisses that delved into untapped emotional crescendos. Well, perhaps we envisioned them, but we discussed the limits long before we acted on the impulses.
I might add, for people still appalled by age gaps between lovers, that there was no significant age gap here. I was a young professor, and she was a final-year student. I was 27 years old, and she was 23 – perfectly acceptable behavior for the usual couple.
But there was indeed this classroom setting where we met three times a week. And so our conversations and clear fondness for each other gained the attention of the obtrusive.
“A word, Raymond,” Ian Yensen said one day after the customary exchange of greetings. Ian chairs the History department at the University of Sirius 4.
“Something wrong, other than the obvious?” I asked. It was the day after the news broke that the reason Earth’s moon dissolved was a weapon that Earthians planned to use to terrify our independent little world.
“Oh, yes, the imaginary bomb. Terrible business, that,” Ian replied. “No, this is not quite that earth-shattering” – a pause while he pondered whether to acknowledge the inadvertent pun – “Have you been seeing a student socially?”
I blinked and grinned, then upon seeing the look on his face swallowed the grin. “As a matter of fact, I have,” I admitted, seeing no reason to misrepresent the plain truth. “We’ve discussed the potential conflict of interest, and I think we each understand that nothing outside of the classroom can affect what happens inside the classroom.”
“That’s a lovely theory, and of course it’s admirable that you’ve discussed it, but you do understand that ethically speaking, you have placed Ms. Springsteen in a compromising position – and yourself of course, and perhaps the university.”
I recalled Buffalo Springsteen snarling at Carson McGillicuddy and coming within an inch of committing petty violence in my class, and suppressed another grin. “I think she is capable of handling the relationship in a reasonable and mature manner.”
“Well and good,” Ian said, “but we need to discuss this further. I’m afraid we’ll have to schedule a formal hearing with the chancellor, dean and myself. I’m not saying this is a major issue, but formalities, you know. You’re certainly not the first professor ever to be enchanted by a student.”
“It’s a little more than that, Ian,” I said, finally a little testy.
“It always seems to be in these cases,” he said. “A week from today, early afternoon?”
With just enough of a pause to indicate he had irritated me: “Fine.”
“Irritated” is the right word. I wasn’t particularly upset or angry or defensive about my friendship with Buffalo, which was well on its way to becoming something deeper. And I understood all of the ramifications that accompany a professor becoming “involved” with a student. It was just a tad annoying to have to defend my integrity and hers in front of officious busybodies.
We never did get around to that hearing, Ian, the chancellor, the dean and I. Life intervened.
Entry 41. The governor
She expected nothing from me in the classroom that would be based on anything that happened between us outside the classroom, and I expected nothing from her that would motivate me to assess her performance as a student differently. We set those boundaries long before we envisioned romantic walks along the beach or kisses that delved into untapped emotional crescendos. Well, perhaps we envisioned them, but we discussed the limits long before we acted on the impulses.
I might add, for people still appalled by age gaps between lovers, that there was no significant age gap here. I was a young professor, and she was a final-year student. I was 27 years old, and she was 23 – perfectly acceptable behavior for the usual couple.
But there was indeed this classroom setting where we met three times a week. And so our conversations and clear fondness for each other gained the attention of the obtrusive.
“A word, Raymond,” Ian Yensen said one day after the customary exchange of greetings. Ian chairs the History department at the University of Sirius 4.
“Something wrong, other than the obvious?” I asked. It was the day after the news broke that the reason Earth’s moon dissolved was a weapon that Earthians planned to use to terrify our independent little world.
“Oh, yes, the imaginary bomb. Terrible business, that,” Ian replied. “No, this is not quite that earth-shattering” – a pause while he pondered whether to acknowledge the inadvertent pun – “Have you been seeing a student socially?”
I blinked and grinned, then upon seeing the look on his face swallowed the grin. “As a matter of fact, I have,” I admitted, seeing no reason to misrepresent the plain truth. “We’ve discussed the potential conflict of interest, and I think we each understand that nothing outside of the classroom can affect what happens inside the classroom.”
“That’s a lovely theory, and of course it’s admirable that you’ve discussed it, but you do understand that ethically speaking, you have placed Ms. Springsteen in a compromising position – and yourself of course, and perhaps the university.”
I recalled Buffalo Springsteen snarling at Carson McGillicuddy and coming within an inch of committing petty violence in my class, and suppressed another grin. “I think she is capable of handling the relationship in a reasonable and mature manner.”
“Well and good,” Ian said, “but we need to discuss this further. I’m afraid we’ll have to schedule a formal hearing with the chancellor, dean and myself. I’m not saying this is a major issue, but formalities, you know. You’re certainly not the first professor ever to be enchanted by a student.”
“It’s a little more than that, Ian,” I said, finally a little testy.
“It always seems to be in these cases,” he said. “A week from today, early afternoon?”
With just enough of a pause to indicate he had irritated me: “Fine.”
“Irritated” is the right word. I wasn’t particularly upset or angry or defensive about my friendship with Buffalo, which was well on its way to becoming something deeper. And I understood all of the ramifications that accompany a professor becoming “involved” with a student. It was just a tad annoying to have to defend my integrity and hers in front of officious busybodies.
We never did get around to that hearing, Ian, the chancellor, the dean and I. Life intervened.
Entry 41. The governor
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Special entry: Independence Day
EDITOR’S NOTE: On this anniversary of an important Earthian event involving liberty, we present Ray Kaliber’s most famous speech, delivered in S4Y 147 on the occasion of the formal dissolution of the Sirian government and the establishment of the Commonwealth of Sirius 4. Kaliber’s memoirs, presented in the order in which he wrote them, will resume Thursday.
It is customary on giving a speech to open by listing all of the titles in the audience. You know, “Friends, Romans, countrymen,” or “members of Congress, senators, Supreme Court justices, distinguished guests and last but not least, citizens of this great nation.” Or some such.
And so let me begin with the only title that makes sense in this new commonwealth adventure that we embark upon today:
Friends.
Our planet has been through a few changes since it was first colonized these 147 years ago. The encampment became a settlement, and the settlement became an important base of operations for humanity’s exploration of the stars.
With the importance of the colony came a certain desire to control the colonists. But colonists by nature contain a certain will and independence, and we strained at the bit of governance. Just shy of a decade ago, long after the control became a tyranny too much to bear, the free and independent state of Sirius IV was declared, and we were forced into a revolution of blood to secure that freedom. My lifelong friend Badiah Sinclair was the leader of that revolution, and he was the natural choice to lead our new civilization.
However. A wise and ancient song about revolution concludes with the ominous words, “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.” As glorious and welcome as our newfound freedom was, the truth about violence is that it can only beget violence. Badi Sinclair led our new government the only way he understood how to govern: by force. An all-too-familiar pattern emerged: For the greater good, liberty had to be restrained. Somehow the fruits of those who rule for the greater good are not always, well, very good.
It was an imaginary revolution. All we had succeeded in doing was to install a new boss who was, in too many ways, the same as the old boss. We soon needed a new revolution, a revolution befitting the reality of Sirius IV: We are 8.6 light years away from the governments that rule Earth, and we need to be light years away from the violent tyrannies that have dominated over the centuries 8.6 light years away.
We had a chance to re-establish the ways that human beings interact, reflecting the independent and pioneering spirit that brought us here. We depend upon each other, but we respect and trust each other, too. The creed that I suggested has served us well so far — it led us to this moment, today — although I must concede that we have only just begun.
But let us embark on a bold experiment in humanity based on these tenets: Love your neighbor as yourself. Interact with love, not force or violence. Give more than you receive.
Love your neighbor. A simple concept that somehow remains revolutionary millenia after it was first said. Perhaps it’s because of the first corrolary of that concept: The person you consider your enemy is also your neighbor.
Way back on planet Earth, in the year 1886, a very wise man named Benjamin Tucker put it this way: “It is because peaceful agitation and passive resistance are, in Liberty’s hands, weapons more deadly to tyranny than any others that I uphold them, and it is because brute force strengthens tyranny that I condemn it. War and authority are companions; peace and liberty are companions. The methods and necessities of war involve arbitrary discipline and dictatorship. So-called ‘war measures’ are almost always violations of rights. Even war for liberty is sure to breed the spirit of authority, with aftereffects unforeseen and incalculable.” And we saw that barely a year after our imaginary revolution was won.
So I suggest, in our new world, we throw off the shackles of war and authority over our neighbors. I propose we offer each other only love, peace and the liberty to be different from one another — making this offer even to our adversaries, even to those we have considered or may still consider to be our enemies.
If returning hatred with kindness still makes you uneasy even after the victory we won with our nonviolent revolution, think of what an ancient writer suggested: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals [of shame] on his head.” Your love will pain him more than your hatred ever would.
Don’t waste time rewarding hate with hate. If someone wants to hate you, well, fine, you have no control over that anyway — but you do have control over how you react to that hate. If you choose love, you shame your enemy and perhaps, perhaps, you turn an enemy into a friend someday.
Interact with love, not force or violence. You make no friends by force or violence; coercion can only silence your enemies, it will not convert them. A dead enemy, or a vanquished enemy staring at you with pure hatred and waiting for a chance to return violence with violence, is still an enemy. Only love can make a friend; it is that much more powerful than hate.
Give more than you receive. Bakers have always understood this. When someone asks for a dozen, the baker gives 13. When someone asks you for a favor, give two. The more you give, the more you will receive back, because it’s basic to our nature to want to return a kindness. But don’t give more because you expect something back; give more than you receive because you love your neighbor.
Love your neighbor as yourself. Interact with love, not force or violence. Give more than you receive.
I’m not telling you to do this. If I force you to abide by these tenets but you don’t believe them, it is just another imaginary revolution. I propose no new government to enforce these principles, because government is an instrument of force (the word is “enforce,” after all, isn’t it?)
Let’s build a world on these principles. I firmly believe this is the best and most proper way to ensure our common wealth in this incredible place where our great-grandparents sought to start a new corner of civilization in the universe.
This is the place where the great political orators would say something like “History will say this is the day when the Commonwealth of Sirius 4 took its first great step forward.” But although I am a historian by profession, I’m not terribly interested in history except not repeat its worst mistakes. I know I can’t control what future historians will say about this day, although I do hope they take note that it was a beautiful day filled with sunshine.
All that I can control are my own actions right here, and right now. And right here and now, I pledge that I will continue to live by these tenets. As sure as the three tenets of imaginary physics enabled us to travel vast distances faster than we ever believed possible, I think these three tenets will enable us to live and thrive more quickly than we imagined.
So I pledge I will love my neighbor as myself. I will interact with love. And I will give more than I receive. Let’s make that the foundation of our commonwealth.
Entry 28. Licenses and fees
It is customary on giving a speech to open by listing all of the titles in the audience. You know, “Friends, Romans, countrymen,” or “members of Congress, senators, Supreme Court justices, distinguished guests and last but not least, citizens of this great nation.” Or some such.
And so let me begin with the only title that makes sense in this new commonwealth adventure that we embark upon today:
Friends.
Our planet has been through a few changes since it was first colonized these 147 years ago. The encampment became a settlement, and the settlement became an important base of operations for humanity’s exploration of the stars.
With the importance of the colony came a certain desire to control the colonists. But colonists by nature contain a certain will and independence, and we strained at the bit of governance. Just shy of a decade ago, long after the control became a tyranny too much to bear, the free and independent state of Sirius IV was declared, and we were forced into a revolution of blood to secure that freedom. My lifelong friend Badiah Sinclair was the leader of that revolution, and he was the natural choice to lead our new civilization.
However. A wise and ancient song about revolution concludes with the ominous words, “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.” As glorious and welcome as our newfound freedom was, the truth about violence is that it can only beget violence. Badi Sinclair led our new government the only way he understood how to govern: by force. An all-too-familiar pattern emerged: For the greater good, liberty had to be restrained. Somehow the fruits of those who rule for the greater good are not always, well, very good.
It was an imaginary revolution. All we had succeeded in doing was to install a new boss who was, in too many ways, the same as the old boss. We soon needed a new revolution, a revolution befitting the reality of Sirius IV: We are 8.6 light years away from the governments that rule Earth, and we need to be light years away from the violent tyrannies that have dominated over the centuries 8.6 light years away.
We had a chance to re-establish the ways that human beings interact, reflecting the independent and pioneering spirit that brought us here. We depend upon each other, but we respect and trust each other, too. The creed that I suggested has served us well so far — it led us to this moment, today — although I must concede that we have only just begun.
But let us embark on a bold experiment in humanity based on these tenets: Love your neighbor as yourself. Interact with love, not force or violence. Give more than you receive.
Love your neighbor. A simple concept that somehow remains revolutionary millenia after it was first said. Perhaps it’s because of the first corrolary of that concept: The person you consider your enemy is also your neighbor.
Way back on planet Earth, in the year 1886, a very wise man named Benjamin Tucker put it this way: “It is because peaceful agitation and passive resistance are, in Liberty’s hands, weapons more deadly to tyranny than any others that I uphold them, and it is because brute force strengthens tyranny that I condemn it. War and authority are companions; peace and liberty are companions. The methods and necessities of war involve arbitrary discipline and dictatorship. So-called ‘war measures’ are almost always violations of rights. Even war for liberty is sure to breed the spirit of authority, with aftereffects unforeseen and incalculable.” And we saw that barely a year after our imaginary revolution was won.
So I suggest, in our new world, we throw off the shackles of war and authority over our neighbors. I propose we offer each other only love, peace and the liberty to be different from one another — making this offer even to our adversaries, even to those we have considered or may still consider to be our enemies.
If returning hatred with kindness still makes you uneasy even after the victory we won with our nonviolent revolution, think of what an ancient writer suggested: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals [of shame] on his head.” Your love will pain him more than your hatred ever would.
Don’t waste time rewarding hate with hate. If someone wants to hate you, well, fine, you have no control over that anyway — but you do have control over how you react to that hate. If you choose love, you shame your enemy and perhaps, perhaps, you turn an enemy into a friend someday.
Interact with love, not force or violence. You make no friends by force or violence; coercion can only silence your enemies, it will not convert them. A dead enemy, or a vanquished enemy staring at you with pure hatred and waiting for a chance to return violence with violence, is still an enemy. Only love can make a friend; it is that much more powerful than hate.
Give more than you receive. Bakers have always understood this. When someone asks for a dozen, the baker gives 13. When someone asks you for a favor, give two. The more you give, the more you will receive back, because it’s basic to our nature to want to return a kindness. But don’t give more because you expect something back; give more than you receive because you love your neighbor.
Love your neighbor as yourself. Interact with love, not force or violence. Give more than you receive.
I’m not telling you to do this. If I force you to abide by these tenets but you don’t believe them, it is just another imaginary revolution. I propose no new government to enforce these principles, because government is an instrument of force (the word is “enforce,” after all, isn’t it?)
Let’s build a world on these principles. I firmly believe this is the best and most proper way to ensure our common wealth in this incredible place where our great-grandparents sought to start a new corner of civilization in the universe.
This is the place where the great political orators would say something like “History will say this is the day when the Commonwealth of Sirius 4 took its first great step forward.” But although I am a historian by profession, I’m not terribly interested in history except not repeat its worst mistakes. I know I can’t control what future historians will say about this day, although I do hope they take note that it was a beautiful day filled with sunshine.
All that I can control are my own actions right here, and right now. And right here and now, I pledge that I will continue to live by these tenets. As sure as the three tenets of imaginary physics enabled us to travel vast distances faster than we ever believed possible, I think these three tenets will enable us to live and thrive more quickly than we imagined.
So I pledge I will love my neighbor as myself. I will interact with love. And I will give more than I receive. Let’s make that the foundation of our commonwealth.
Entry 28. Licenses and fees
Monday, July 2, 2012
Entry 26. The peacekeepers settle in
The ImagDrive enabled the colonization of Sirius 4 by making the voyage last not much longer than a summer day trip. You load up the kids and the car, drive for a few hours, and it seems like you’re in a whole different world. Same concept, only literally true.
Unfortunately, it also proved very convenient for sending an occupational force: Pack up the troops, the guns and enough ImagPro to manufacture a few meals, and you’ll be on Sirius 4 before the least patient soldier starts wondering, “Are we there yet?” From a tactical point of view, it’s the closest thing you can get to an element of surprise in this era of instant communication.
The people of Sirius 4 were caught completely off guard by the arrival of peacekeepers from Earth. I’m told President Badiah Sinclair stood proud and defiant as the command ship eased into its landing bay at the Sirius 4 airport.
And he stood in the way of the tall, compactly built soldier with steel-colored hair who was first to emerge from the ship.
“What is the meaning of this?” Badiah said with all of the outrage he could muster – and my old friend could muster quite a lot of outrage. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Lt. Joshua True,” the tall, compactly built soldier said by way of introduction. His eyes pierced Sinclair’s matching intensity with intensity. “We are here to keep the peace. And I am here, specifically, to place you under arrest, Senator Sinclair.”
“His title is President Sinclair,” an aide blustered behind Badiah.
“There are no presidents here; the president of Sirius 4 is safe on Earth,” True snapped. “Your little game of independence is at an end.”
The steely voice matched the silver hair. True had been a cruelly efficient but anonymous Special Forces lieutenant who got the job done quietly and without fanfare. Now he was the well-known leader of the squad that had failed to stop the terrorists in time to save the moon from being dissolved.
That experience had made the man even more ruthless. At first we wondered why someone who had failed so spectacularly would immediately be put to work leading the occupation. We did not wonder long.
Lt. True would address the planet later that evening. Earth wished it had other alternatives than to send a military presence, but people were just not being reasonable these days. Light years away from Earth, from the roots of civilization, human beings needed a link to the traditional authority on which we depended to maintain order. The alternative was anarchy and chaos. This was not the American Wild West of Earth history; this was an outpost of humanity.
And from that moment on, Sirius 4 would resume its place as a proud outpost of the Earthian government.
At least, that was the plan.
Entry 27. Buffalo on the beach
Unfortunately, it also proved very convenient for sending an occupational force: Pack up the troops, the guns and enough ImagPro to manufacture a few meals, and you’ll be on Sirius 4 before the least patient soldier starts wondering, “Are we there yet?” From a tactical point of view, it’s the closest thing you can get to an element of surprise in this era of instant communication.
The people of Sirius 4 were caught completely off guard by the arrival of peacekeepers from Earth. I’m told President Badiah Sinclair stood proud and defiant as the command ship eased into its landing bay at the Sirius 4 airport.
And he stood in the way of the tall, compactly built soldier with steel-colored hair who was first to emerge from the ship.
“What is the meaning of this?” Badiah said with all of the outrage he could muster – and my old friend could muster quite a lot of outrage. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Lt. Joshua True,” the tall, compactly built soldier said by way of introduction. His eyes pierced Sinclair’s matching intensity with intensity. “We are here to keep the peace. And I am here, specifically, to place you under arrest, Senator Sinclair.”
“His title is President Sinclair,” an aide blustered behind Badiah.
“There are no presidents here; the president of Sirius 4 is safe on Earth,” True snapped. “Your little game of independence is at an end.”
The steely voice matched the silver hair. True had been a cruelly efficient but anonymous Special Forces lieutenant who got the job done quietly and without fanfare. Now he was the well-known leader of the squad that had failed to stop the terrorists in time to save the moon from being dissolved.
That experience had made the man even more ruthless. At first we wondered why someone who had failed so spectacularly would immediately be put to work leading the occupation. We did not wonder long.
Lt. True would address the planet later that evening. Earth wished it had other alternatives than to send a military presence, but people were just not being reasonable these days. Light years away from Earth, from the roots of civilization, human beings needed a link to the traditional authority on which we depended to maintain order. The alternative was anarchy and chaos. This was not the American Wild West of Earth history; this was an outpost of humanity.
And from that moment on, Sirius 4 would resume its place as a proud outpost of the Earthian government.
At least, that was the plan.
Entry 27. Buffalo on the beach
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Entry 18. A call to unarmed revolution
This is the statement I read and released after Badiah Sinclair began to implement the Austerity Initiative in S4Y 144. Badi was not happy with me, but the concept started to resonate with people.
The trouble with killing people to make your point is that the argument that started the fight is still breathing.
The Earthians who invaded us were doing the will of people who sincerely believed Sirius 4 was Earth's property. They killed some of us to make their point, but that only made us believe more fervently in our independence. We killed more of them to drive them away, but that only made them want our world even more.
No, not until we sat down and talked – setting aside our weapons but with the threat of more violence as the alternative – did Earth agree to let our experiment in freedom continue.
But now that freedom won with violence is being stripped with violence – oh, perhaps not literally, but with the same old threat of force that governments have always hung over us. What if we struck back in a way that does not meet violence with violence? What if we simply choose to live free, simply ignoring these onerous attempts to curb our liberty, promising not to kill our oppressors but to love them, to return force with a smile, violence with nonviolence, simply refusing to follow their unjust rules? What if we just stopped cooperating?
Using violence we won an imaginary victory over a violent tyranny, and knowing only violence, that which replaced the foreign tyrant has become a domestic tyrant. Now we need a second revolution – a rebellion over our violent nature – to secure our freedom for a much longer term.
I have no illusion that such a revolution would still carry the threat of violence in the background. Taking back what rightfully belongs to us by force is always an option, but that would merely prolong the cycle of violence. True security only comes when we appeal to our better angels, when we take the alternative of violence off the table, when we agree to the principle that no one has a right of aggression over others.
Only when that principle prevails above all others will the cycle of violence be broken and will we be able to enjoy this common wealth of Sirius 4 in peace and prosperity.
Entry 19. Basics of imaginary physics
The trouble with killing people to make your point is that the argument that started the fight is still breathing.
The Earthians who invaded us were doing the will of people who sincerely believed Sirius 4 was Earth's property. They killed some of us to make their point, but that only made us believe more fervently in our independence. We killed more of them to drive them away, but that only made them want our world even more.
No, not until we sat down and talked – setting aside our weapons but with the threat of more violence as the alternative – did Earth agree to let our experiment in freedom continue.
But now that freedom won with violence is being stripped with violence – oh, perhaps not literally, but with the same old threat of force that governments have always hung over us. What if we struck back in a way that does not meet violence with violence? What if we simply choose to live free, simply ignoring these onerous attempts to curb our liberty, promising not to kill our oppressors but to love them, to return force with a smile, violence with nonviolence, simply refusing to follow their unjust rules? What if we just stopped cooperating?
Using violence we won an imaginary victory over a violent tyranny, and knowing only violence, that which replaced the foreign tyrant has become a domestic tyrant. Now we need a second revolution – a rebellion over our violent nature – to secure our freedom for a much longer term.
I have no illusion that such a revolution would still carry the threat of violence in the background. Taking back what rightfully belongs to us by force is always an option, but that would merely prolong the cycle of violence. True security only comes when we appeal to our better angels, when we take the alternative of violence off the table, when we agree to the principle that no one has a right of aggression over others.
Only when that principle prevails above all others will the cycle of violence be broken and will we be able to enjoy this common wealth of Sirius 4 in peace and prosperity.
Entry 19. Basics of imaginary physics
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Entry 17. First casualty
The Imaginary Revolution began in a small town called Fillmore, when a farmer named Jim Simmons had a disagreement with a state inspector. Miles away at the capital, the independence coalition (led by now by Senator Badiah Sinclair) was in its third year of talks with Earth about how our planet could manage its own affairs.
Simmons had built a new pole building on his property, and the inspector measured the building as 2.9 meters from the property line.
“The setback’s 3 meters,” the inspector said. You’ll have to take down the building or move it.”
“Like hell,” said Jim Simmons.
“Move it or we’ll move it for you,” the inspector said.
“Like hell,” repeated Jim Simmons, this time drawing a rifle from behind the front seat of his truck. “Now get off my land.”
“It won’t be your land for long if you won’t follow the codes,” the inspector said, beating a strategic retreat.
The inspector returned with three workers prepared with the equipment necessary to raze the pole building. As soon as they stepped on his property, Jim Simmons approached them with his rifle and warned them to leave.
At this point the squad of Earth soldiers, which the inspector had brought along in case of contingency, stepped forward and shot Jim Simmons stone dead. Then they razed the building.
When word of the incident spread, the revolution was on.
No, it wasn’t about a persnickety building inspector who called in the army to back him up, although that was a symptom of a bigger problem, the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Years of Earthian agents acting as if Sirius 4 was Earth, as if the same rules were relevant here, as if rules were needed in the first place when we had the tapestry of an entire planet to weave with, had built up a resentment and then a seething hatred of what was described as our local government but what felt like an occupation force, even though at the time the troop level was relatively low.
One might expect that armed citizens would have risen up against Jim Simmons’ killers after all that. In fact, another two years would pass before things got really violent, because the independence coalition had the good sense immediately to react to the Simmons incident not with a call to arms, but with a parliamentary move that unilaterally declared Sirius 4 an independent planet, removed the Earthian governor, ordered him back to his homeward and insisted that he bring his “security force” with him.
It happened so peacefully that I believed my entreaties to Badiah Sinclair had had some impact. What really had happened was that the Earthians were a bit embarrassed by the Simmons incident and retreated to regroup. The Imaginary Bomb incident was considered a wakeup call to prepare for a less cordial response from Earth, so the invasion of S4Y 140 was not exactly a complete surprise.
Entry 18. A call to unarmed revolution
Simmons had built a new pole building on his property, and the inspector measured the building as 2.9 meters from the property line.
“The setback’s 3 meters,” the inspector said. You’ll have to take down the building or move it.”
“Like hell,” said Jim Simmons.
“Move it or we’ll move it for you,” the inspector said.
“Like hell,” repeated Jim Simmons, this time drawing a rifle from behind the front seat of his truck. “Now get off my land.”
“It won’t be your land for long if you won’t follow the codes,” the inspector said, beating a strategic retreat.
The inspector returned with three workers prepared with the equipment necessary to raze the pole building. As soon as they stepped on his property, Jim Simmons approached them with his rifle and warned them to leave.
At this point the squad of Earth soldiers, which the inspector had brought along in case of contingency, stepped forward and shot Jim Simmons stone dead. Then they razed the building.
When word of the incident spread, the revolution was on.
No, it wasn’t about a persnickety building inspector who called in the army to back him up, although that was a symptom of a bigger problem, the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Years of Earthian agents acting as if Sirius 4 was Earth, as if the same rules were relevant here, as if rules were needed in the first place when we had the tapestry of an entire planet to weave with, had built up a resentment and then a seething hatred of what was described as our local government but what felt like an occupation force, even though at the time the troop level was relatively low.
One might expect that armed citizens would have risen up against Jim Simmons’ killers after all that. In fact, another two years would pass before things got really violent, because the independence coalition had the good sense immediately to react to the Simmons incident not with a call to arms, but with a parliamentary move that unilaterally declared Sirius 4 an independent planet, removed the Earthian governor, ordered him back to his homeward and insisted that he bring his “security force” with him.
It happened so peacefully that I believed my entreaties to Badiah Sinclair had had some impact. What really had happened was that the Earthians were a bit embarrassed by the Simmons incident and retreated to regroup. The Imaginary Bomb incident was considered a wakeup call to prepare for a less cordial response from Earth, so the invasion of S4Y 140 was not exactly a complete surprise.
Entry 18. A call to unarmed revolution
Friday, June 15, 2012
Entry 9. Tenets
As long as we’re getting the basics out of the way, let’s talk about my Tenets of Common Wealth. Truth be known, I based them on the Tenets of Imaginary Physics – three short statements that sum up all you need to know about the way the universe works.
1. The power of the imagination is unlimited.
2. Matter still can’t be created or destroyed.
3. What’s done is done.
In my studies of history and nonviolent cooperation, I boiled down my philosophy into three short statements that sum up all you need to know about a successful peace. To make the analogy downright obvious, I named them the Tenets of Common Wealth.
1. Love your neighbor as yourself.
2. Interact with love — not force or violence.
3. Give more than you receive.
We’ll get into more detail as we go along, but everything I have said and done, and everything that led to this experiment that became the Commonwealth of Sirius 4, pretty much boils down to those three tenets.
Entry 10
1. The power of the imagination is unlimited.
2. Matter still can’t be created or destroyed.
3. What’s done is done.
In my studies of history and nonviolent cooperation, I boiled down my philosophy into three short statements that sum up all you need to know about a successful peace. To make the analogy downright obvious, I named them the Tenets of Common Wealth.
1. Love your neighbor as yourself.
2. Interact with love — not force or violence.
3. Give more than you receive.
We’ll get into more detail as we go along, but everything I have said and done, and everything that led to this experiment that became the Commonwealth of Sirius 4, pretty much boils down to those three tenets.
Entry 10
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Entry 8. Time line
My editors tell me it’s OK for me to jump around in the timeline but that it would be helpful to write down the timeline for readers who are not familiar with the history of Sirius 4.
I wonder why anyone who is not familiar with the history of Sirius 4 would be interested in my memoirs, but I acknowledge their concern, and so here is a list of what I consider the key moments in our history, those that I likely will be writing about in coming months.
(stated in Sirius 4 Years, S4Y)
S4Y 0– Exploratory mission lands, establishes encampment.
S4Y 1 – Construction of first oxygen generator begins.
S4Y 3 – Oxygen generator becomes operational, first settlers begin to arrive.
S4Y 22 – Population of encampment hits 1,000. Construction of outside communities authorized.
S4Y 28 – On schedule, oxygen levels reach survival stage and people begin to move into outside communities. Settlements grow into small towns, small towns grow into small cities.
S4Y 113 – I am born, for what that’s worth.
S4Y 125 – "The cookie fight."
S4Y 135 – A growing independence movement begins to build a majority in the legislature. The group begins negotiations that include the governor and the Earth administration.
S4Y 137 – I accept an assistant professorship at the University of Sirius 4.
S4Y 138 – Negotiations with Earth break down, Sirius 4 declares its independence and the governor is exiled back to the home planet. Badiah Sinclair is elected president.
S4Y 139 – An insurgent force led by Walter Ellis and Linda Franco steals the ignition disk for a prototype imaginary bomb. In an encounter between Special Forces and another insurgent group, the previously secret bomb detonates, destroying Earth’s moon. In a televised transmission Walter reveals that the government intended to use the bomb to destroy Sirius 5 as a warning to the fourth planet from our sun. (EDITOR'S NOTE: Many years from now, this incident is fictionalized in a novel called The Imaginary Bomb. Although it contains some historical inaccuracies, it is considered a pleasant diversion for fans of the early Imaginary Era.)
S4Y 140 – I meet Buffalo. Not long after, an invasion force arrives from Earth to put down the independence movement, sparking what we now know as the Imaginary Revolution.
S4Y 142 – After a series of violent clashes, the revolution is won, and Badiah Sinclair is re-elected.
S4Y 143 – Sinclair implements The Austerity Initiative, a series of regulations intended to shore up the economy and “temporarily” reinstitute some of the more onerous Earth-imposed restrictions on freedom.
S4Y 144 – With many folks advocating another violent rebellion, I do my best to convince people to take another tack.
S4Y 145 – At the height of the passive protests, Badi orders troops to open fire into a crowd. Thirty-five die, and I am arrested. The government topples on the day my trial was scheduled to begin.
S4Y 146 – During the debate over a new government, I pose the question of whether we need a government.
S4Y 147 – Commonwealth of Sirius 4 established. Not long afterward, I had a perhaps inevitable encounter along the Sanfte River with a certain man who, ironically enough, would become as loyal a friend as I have ever had, considering.
Since 147, we have had our share of challenges but, I admit to some pride in saying, the commonwealth survives and thrives.
Entry 9. Tenets
I wonder why anyone who is not familiar with the history of Sirius 4 would be interested in my memoirs, but I acknowledge their concern, and so here is a list of what I consider the key moments in our history, those that I likely will be writing about in coming months.
(stated in Sirius 4 Years, S4Y)
S4Y 0– Exploratory mission lands, establishes encampment.
S4Y 1 – Construction of first oxygen generator begins.
S4Y 3 – Oxygen generator becomes operational, first settlers begin to arrive.
S4Y 22 – Population of encampment hits 1,000. Construction of outside communities authorized.
S4Y 28 – On schedule, oxygen levels reach survival stage and people begin to move into outside communities. Settlements grow into small towns, small towns grow into small cities.
S4Y 113 – I am born, for what that’s worth.
S4Y 125 – "The cookie fight."
S4Y 135 – A growing independence movement begins to build a majority in the legislature. The group begins negotiations that include the governor and the Earth administration.
S4Y 137 – I accept an assistant professorship at the University of Sirius 4.
S4Y 138 – Negotiations with Earth break down, Sirius 4 declares its independence and the governor is exiled back to the home planet. Badiah Sinclair is elected president.
S4Y 139 – An insurgent force led by Walter Ellis and Linda Franco steals the ignition disk for a prototype imaginary bomb. In an encounter between Special Forces and another insurgent group, the previously secret bomb detonates, destroying Earth’s moon. In a televised transmission Walter reveals that the government intended to use the bomb to destroy Sirius 5 as a warning to the fourth planet from our sun. (EDITOR'S NOTE: Many years from now, this incident is fictionalized in a novel called The Imaginary Bomb. Although it contains some historical inaccuracies, it is considered a pleasant diversion for fans of the early Imaginary Era.)
S4Y 140 – I meet Buffalo. Not long after, an invasion force arrives from Earth to put down the independence movement, sparking what we now know as the Imaginary Revolution.
S4Y 142 – After a series of violent clashes, the revolution is won, and Badiah Sinclair is re-elected.
S4Y 143 – Sinclair implements The Austerity Initiative, a series of regulations intended to shore up the economy and “temporarily” reinstitute some of the more onerous Earth-imposed restrictions on freedom.
S4Y 144 – With many folks advocating another violent rebellion, I do my best to convince people to take another tack.
S4Y 145 – At the height of the passive protests, Badi orders troops to open fire into a crowd. Thirty-five die, and I am arrested. The government topples on the day my trial was scheduled to begin.
S4Y 146 – During the debate over a new government, I pose the question of whether we need a government.
S4Y 147 – Commonwealth of Sirius 4 established. Not long afterward, I had a perhaps inevitable encounter along the Sanfte River with a certain man who, ironically enough, would become as loyal a friend as I have ever had, considering.
Since 147, we have had our share of challenges but, I admit to some pride in saying, the commonwealth survives and thrives.
Entry 9. Tenets
Friday, June 8, 2012
Entry 2
Two centuries ago as the applications of imaginary physics began to roll out, they called it "the imaginary revolution." From magic boxes that turned a small cube of protein into a complete, fully cooked meal to the "rocket" ships that carried people to the moon in 12 seconds, this was the stuff not just of science fiction but of dreams.
On Sirius 4, of course, we learned another sense of the term. My friend Badiah Sinclair, the reluctant leader of what has come to be known as the Imaginary Revolution, was and is a good man who believed in independence for our world. I don't believe most of the bureaucrats who attempted to control us from Earth were really tyrants; I think they simply tried to run things the way things had always been run.
But we Sirians had a different view – I almost said a "new" view, but that's not quite accurate. From the day the human species was born, and from the day each and every one of us was born, our instinct is for freedom and the desire to follow our dreams. In that way Sirians are not different at all, but coming from pioneer stock we were more insistent about following our instinct.
Badiah was right to lead us to throw off our shackles, but he made the same mistake so many revolutionaries have made through the centuries. Faced with an often-violent tyranny, he chose to meet force with force, to reward theft and blood with theft and blood.
I tried to convince him that violence only begets violence, and that using the means of our adversaries to accomplish our objectives would only infect his thinking. How many nights have I had trouble sleeping, wishing I had been more persuasive. I could have spared my childhood friend the pain of being as reviled as the Earth tyrants, more so because he was one of us.
It took barely a year after Sirius 4 secured our independence from Earth that the words of a very old song about revolution began to whisper in my subconsciousness. The song rings of a new constitution and a return to halcyon times "just like yesterday," but it concludes, "Meet the new boss: Same as the old boss."
I am getting ahead of myself, I suppose. This is certainly not beginning at the beginning. There are rules about storytelling and memoirs. On the other hand, a classic work of 20th-century Earth literature begins with a quote from a man named Juan Ramón Jiménez: "If they give you ruled paper, write the other way."
Still, there is one incident I should mention, which occurred when Badiah and I were 12 years old, that I should mention at the beginning. So much of what I believe goes back to what I learned the day I beat the stuffing out of my best friend.
Entry 3. The cookie fight
On Sirius 4, of course, we learned another sense of the term. My friend Badiah Sinclair, the reluctant leader of what has come to be known as the Imaginary Revolution, was and is a good man who believed in independence for our world. I don't believe most of the bureaucrats who attempted to control us from Earth were really tyrants; I think they simply tried to run things the way things had always been run.
But we Sirians had a different view – I almost said a "new" view, but that's not quite accurate. From the day the human species was born, and from the day each and every one of us was born, our instinct is for freedom and the desire to follow our dreams. In that way Sirians are not different at all, but coming from pioneer stock we were more insistent about following our instinct.
Badiah was right to lead us to throw off our shackles, but he made the same mistake so many revolutionaries have made through the centuries. Faced with an often-violent tyranny, he chose to meet force with force, to reward theft and blood with theft and blood.
I tried to convince him that violence only begets violence, and that using the means of our adversaries to accomplish our objectives would only infect his thinking. How many nights have I had trouble sleeping, wishing I had been more persuasive. I could have spared my childhood friend the pain of being as reviled as the Earth tyrants, more so because he was one of us.
It took barely a year after Sirius 4 secured our independence from Earth that the words of a very old song about revolution began to whisper in my subconsciousness. The song rings of a new constitution and a return to halcyon times "just like yesterday," but it concludes, "Meet the new boss: Same as the old boss."
I am getting ahead of myself, I suppose. This is certainly not beginning at the beginning. There are rules about storytelling and memoirs. On the other hand, a classic work of 20th-century Earth literature begins with a quote from a man named Juan Ramón Jiménez: "If they give you ruled paper, write the other way."
Still, there is one incident I should mention, which occurred when Badiah and I were 12 years old, that I should mention at the beginning. So much of what I believe goes back to what I learned the day I beat the stuffing out of my best friend.
Entry 3. The cookie fight
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