Joe Haldeman's latest novel, The Accidental Time Machine, is a book perfectly described by its title. Graduate student Matt Fuller accidentally builds a graviton meter that also functions as a time machine, with two major limitations:
1) It only goes forward, not backward;
2) Each jump through time is twelve times longer than the last.
The machine starts out jumping a few seconds into the future; by the time Fuller's ready to try a full-fledged experiment, with himself along for the ride, it takes him a month forward.
The machine isn't really controllable, or navigatable. The only thing it's indisputably good for is escaping your present time; which is good, because Fuller has a knack for getting into trouble.
This is my first Haldeman novel. It's readable (and it helps that I'm a total sucker for time-travel stories.) Some of the entries are weak: the future period ruled by a fundamentalist theocracy (complete with a holographic Jesus Christ) reminded me intensely of Heinlein's Revolt in 2100.
(Hey, I'm linking myself! That's a triumph of blog depth! Or self-indulgence. Don't answer that.)
The ending is disappointingly incoherent; I have no clear understanding of what happened, and I'm not sure that I'm meant to. It may just be a mystery of unthinkably-advanced science and time-travel weirdness. But I'd at least like to be clear on my unclarity, if that makes any sense.
Come to think of it, the entire plot- invent forward-going time machine, explore the future, get into trouble, keep moving farther ahead- was Poul Anderson's novella "Flight to Forever." Which was, frankly, done a lot better.
But this wasn't too bad. Like I said, I'm a sucker for time-travel.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Dogs and Robots and Mutants, Oh My!
My room was getting its semiannual cleaning this weekend (blech!) and I happened on a long-lost book that had been buried under my winter clothes: Clifford D. Simak's City.
It's a collection of short stories detailing Simak's future history of the decline of the human race. They're framed as myths that the intelligent dogs of the future tell each other about long-departed humanity- though educated dogs doubt that any such creature ever existed.
Humanity in Simak's future doesn't go out with a bang. It fails quietly, through social isolation and a lack of anything to strive for. It is replaced by dogs, who are made intelligent by means of surgery (today we'd say genetic engineering, but it amounts to the same thing) robots, and mutants- superintelligent, amoral beings whose purposes are never entirely clear.
Simak's writing is wistful: peaceful, sad, and ultimately resigned to the extinction of things. He seems to be an evolutionary writer, in the sense that H.G. Wells was; but where Wells triumphantly wrote of the dawn of new races, Simak writes eulogies for the fall of the old ones.
One surprise, in passing, is how much Isaac Asimov borrowed from Simak. His Solaria, with its agoraphobic isolationists, is directly taken from Simak; and Daneel Olivaw is clearly based on Jenkins, the immortal telepathic robot who discreetly guides humanity (and caninity) through history.
It's a collection of short stories detailing Simak's future history of the decline of the human race. They're framed as myths that the intelligent dogs of the future tell each other about long-departed humanity- though educated dogs doubt that any such creature ever existed.
Humanity in Simak's future doesn't go out with a bang. It fails quietly, through social isolation and a lack of anything to strive for. It is replaced by dogs, who are made intelligent by means of surgery (today we'd say genetic engineering, but it amounts to the same thing) robots, and mutants- superintelligent, amoral beings whose purposes are never entirely clear.
Simak's writing is wistful: peaceful, sad, and ultimately resigned to the extinction of things. He seems to be an evolutionary writer, in the sense that H.G. Wells was; but where Wells triumphantly wrote of the dawn of new races, Simak writes eulogies for the fall of the old ones.
One surprise, in passing, is how much Isaac Asimov borrowed from Simak. His Solaria, with its agoraphobic isolationists, is directly taken from Simak; and Daneel Olivaw is clearly based on Jenkins, the immortal telepathic robot who discreetly guides humanity (and caninity) through history.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Scharr on Patriotism
The first thing that comes to mind (and is easily accessible, since I have it bookmarked) is John Scharr's essay The Case for Patriotism, which says:
To be a patriot is to have a patrimony; or, perhaps more ac-
curately, the patriot is one who is grateful for a legacy and
recognizes that the legacy makes him a debtor. There is a whole
way of being in the world, captured best by the word reverence,
which defines life by its debts: one is what one owes, what one
acknowledges as a rightful debt: or obligation. The patriot moves
within that mentality. The gift of land, people, language, gods,
memories, and customs, which is the patrimony of the patriot,
defines what he or she is. Patrimony is mixed with person; the
two are barely separable. The very tone and rhythm of a life,
the shapes of perception, the texture of its homes and fears
come from membership in a territorially rooted group. The con-
scious patriot is one who feels deeply indebted for these gifts,
grateful to the people and places through which they come, and
determined to defend the legacy against enemies and pass it un-
spoiled to those who will come after.
Scharr goes on to say lots of other things- most importantly, how difficult it is for us to be patriots in this sense- but this struck me as being especially relevant. Patriotism is gratitude about one's country; how much happiness we will miss if we cannot feel it!
To be a patriot is to have a patrimony; or, perhaps more ac-
curately, the patriot is one who is grateful for a legacy and
recognizes that the legacy makes him a debtor. There is a whole
way of being in the world, captured best by the word reverence,
which defines life by its debts: one is what one owes, what one
acknowledges as a rightful debt: or obligation. The patriot moves
within that mentality. The gift of land, people, language, gods,
memories, and customs, which is the patrimony of the patriot,
defines what he or she is. Patrimony is mixed with person; the
two are barely separable. The very tone and rhythm of a life,
the shapes of perception, the texture of its homes and fears
come from membership in a territorially rooted group. The con-
scious patriot is one who feels deeply indebted for these gifts,
grateful to the people and places through which they come, and
determined to defend the legacy against enemies and pass it un-
spoiled to those who will come after.
Scharr goes on to say lots of other things- most importantly, how difficult it is for us to be patriots in this sense- but this struck me as being especially relevant. Patriotism is gratitude about one's country; how much happiness we will miss if we cannot feel it!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Today is a day of gratitude. A day to specifically think of all the things that are good in life. Which is a pretty long list.
I think that this is important because, for most of us, gratitude is not a natural emotion. It is far more natural for us to take things for granted, and just assume that "normal life" includes all the good stuff we've got.
So gratitude doesn't always come to us automatically. We have to work at it; we have to deliberately take a moment, or a day, and remember all the things we should be grateful for.
I'm going to try and think carefully on this subject today. Because I suspect that joy and gratitude are, if not identical twins, then very close brothers.
I think that this is important because, for most of us, gratitude is not a natural emotion. It is far more natural for us to take things for granted, and just assume that "normal life" includes all the good stuff we've got.
So gratitude doesn't always come to us automatically. We have to work at it; we have to deliberately take a moment, or a day, and remember all the things we should be grateful for.
I'm going to try and think carefully on this subject today. Because I suspect that joy and gratitude are, if not identical twins, then very close brothers.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Two Short Poems
Two short, dark poems about love by women.
Unfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
- Dorothy Parker
---------------------------
Humoresque
"Heaven bless the babe!" they said.
"What queer books she must have read!"
(Love, by whom I was beguiled,
Grant I may not bear a child.)
"Little does she guess to-day
What the world may be!" they say.
(Snow, drift deep and cover
Till the spring my murdered lover.)
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
Unfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
- Dorothy Parker
---------------------------
Humoresque
"Heaven bless the babe!" they said.
"What queer books she must have read!"
(Love, by whom I was beguiled,
Grant I may not bear a child.)
"Little does she guess to-day
What the world may be!" they say.
(Snow, drift deep and cover
Till the spring my murdered lover.)
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
The Deficit Made Me Do It!
I've been playing a game called Democracy. Its premise is that you've just been elected President; you can pass laws, revoke laws, adjust taxes, and so forth. (Yeah, I know, the President doesn't automatically have the power to do all that. But if you couldn't do these things, there wouldn't be much of a game.)
So you can basically reshape the country's laws into whatever you think would work best; and see then how that works out. It's like a political version of Sim City.
There are two conditions. First of all, obviously, voters may not approve of your changes; and if you're voted out of office, no matter how well things are going, you lose. Secondly, you have the national debt to worry about.
The national debt is by far the harder problem to cope with. You can win people's votes pretty easily, by setting up federal programs that are targeted to their interests; the game's structure is set up to make this pretty clear and easy.
But almost every good idea seems to be expensive! And raising taxes will kill you, politically. And there's already a mountain of national debt to work your way out of. Trying to reduce the national debt changes you from a confident social reformer to a hag-ridden penny-pincher who ends every policy discussion with "We can't afford that."
Into this desperate situation comes a thought: the Flag-Burning Amendment doesn't cost anything. It boosts my popularity with certain groups in a cheap and easy way, so that I can either cut these programs or raise those taxes, which normally would send them into a fury and guarantee my loss next election...
That's just an example. There are lots of free, horrible-idea programs whose only purpose is to please some interest group. And I would never have considered them under normal circumstances. But the fascination of the game is how its logic forces you to consider passing them; not because you like them, but just because it gets you some breathing space to get the real job done.
I don't know if that's even passingly comparable to real-life politics. But it wouldn't surprise me at all.
So you can basically reshape the country's laws into whatever you think would work best; and see then how that works out. It's like a political version of Sim City.
There are two conditions. First of all, obviously, voters may not approve of your changes; and if you're voted out of office, no matter how well things are going, you lose. Secondly, you have the national debt to worry about.
The national debt is by far the harder problem to cope with. You can win people's votes pretty easily, by setting up federal programs that are targeted to their interests; the game's structure is set up to make this pretty clear and easy.
But almost every good idea seems to be expensive! And raising taxes will kill you, politically. And there's already a mountain of national debt to work your way out of. Trying to reduce the national debt changes you from a confident social reformer to a hag-ridden penny-pincher who ends every policy discussion with "We can't afford that."
Into this desperate situation comes a thought: the Flag-Burning Amendment doesn't cost anything. It boosts my popularity with certain groups in a cheap and easy way, so that I can either cut these programs or raise those taxes, which normally would send them into a fury and guarantee my loss next election...
That's just an example. There are lots of free, horrible-idea programs whose only purpose is to please some interest group. And I would never have considered them under normal circumstances. But the fascination of the game is how its logic forces you to consider passing them; not because you like them, but just because it gets you some breathing space to get the real job done.
I don't know if that's even passingly comparable to real-life politics. But it wouldn't surprise me at all.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Reenlistment!
Yesterday was the day. My parents came up for the occaision, which was cool; they've never really had a chance to tour the ship.
The oath was administered by my division officer:
I, Fenris Wolf, do solemnly swear:
That I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic;
That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same;
And that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.
So help me God.
Four more years!
(It's like being President! Except that it pays less. And nobody votes for it. And it's probably more fun. Okay, it's probably nothing at all like being the President.)
The oath was administered by my division officer:
I, Fenris Wolf, do solemnly swear:
That I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic;
That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same;
And that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.
So help me God.
Four more years!
(It's like being President! Except that it pays less. And nobody votes for it. And it's probably more fun. Okay, it's probably nothing at all like being the President.)
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