This little article got me thinking. Classically, we don’t have a non-inertial reference frame – the Big Bang happened, everything is moving, and we have no way to discern its point of origin, or more correctly there isn’t any location that isn’t accelerating relative to another. Keep in mind physical space is expanding. This image is one of the least confusing ways to envision it.
The inception, expansion, and prognosis for our civilization is something we ought to consider in a similar fashion.
Our species arose early in the Quarternary; a period of alternating stadials of continent spanning glaciers and warmer interglacial periods. We are children of ice and chaos. I am again at one of those points where Baudrillard’s Simulacra & Simulation is sitting in the center of my desktop, taunting me over the time quanta I dedicated to proper reading. I wonder if we face a similar problem as a species – a lack of a universal rest frame from which we can relate all the societal simulacra we inhabit. If you’ve never read Baudrillard, spend ten minutes here and you’ll get the gist of his work.
Accepting Baudrillard, perhaps lacking the time to delve deeper in the area, simulacra began when we began communicating other than face to face. Gutenberg’s printing press nearly six hundred years ago marks the beginning of the commoditization of communication, but we evolved one to many communication much earlier than that.
My first direct encounter with ancient art were the petroglyphs of Rinconada Canyon, literally the day before Lyme changed my life forever.
As I reflect while writing this, I think I had subconsciously already started up the Dark Mountain trail just a little while prior to that. I snapped this unremarkable sunrise photo at a truly remarkable place – somewhere off in the distance lies Blackwater Draw, a nearly 12,000 year old Clovis culture site in eastern New Mexico.
The zero point for modern humans is 200,000 years in the past, the two thirds of our time before the Toba bottleneck. Male hunters, female gatherers, children tagging along, in and out of camp, with regular moves when the urge to go became too strong to ignore. I know this feeling, not because I sought it out, but because our society simply discarded me when I became ill.
For all its material advantages, the sedentary life has left us edgy, unfulfilled.
Even after four hundred generations in villages and cities, we haven’t forgotten.
The open road still softly calls, like a nearly forgotten song of childhood.
Things are changing again, changing as dramatically as the Quarternary cycles that drove our evolution. Discarded just as I was, this quarter of U.K. youth who’ve faced homelessness are arguably the descendants of our roaming ancestors in a much deeper way that just genetics. We should look to them, alone and in small groups, for stories academics won’t explore, because they are simply unequipped with the experiences needed to interpret them.
But is that the resting frame for our species? Buddhists might say this is avyakata, a question for which there is no answer, or that which is meaningless in context for us.