Lest we forget the sacrifices of those who have served, and what they served for:
If you have served, thank-you.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Remember
Today is Memorial Day. Today, the men and women who have served and are serving are remembered for their service. In the words of R.A. Heinlein, "The price of freedom is the willingness to do sudden battle anywhere, any time and with utter recklessness." Freedom is not free.
Lest we forget the sacrifices of those who have served, and what they served for:
If you have served, thank-you.
Lest we forget the sacrifices of those who have served, and what they served for:
If you have served, thank-you.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The knife
This is a story of hunting in winter, of cold, of living off the land. This is called The Knife.
Up north in the arctic circle, there is a group of people who have been living there many years. We know them as Eskimos. Now these Eskimos have been there so long, and have adapted to their environment so well, that 20 degrees Fahrenheit feels hot enough to wear a T-Shirt. Their eyes can see 32 different shades of white. When I look at fresh snow, I see pure snow. They, on the other hand, can look at a snow bank and say "That snow over there has fresh water below it, that over there has salt water flowing beneath it. Over there is snow hard enough to be ice, whereas over there is a death trap of soft snow and long drops." In other words, they are masters of the environment.
Our story takes place in a small village, the days are becoming longer, the air is getting warmer, and many of the young boys are getting restless with anticipation for what is to come. One day the elder, the oldest and wisest of the people, gets up, and takes out The Knife. "shnnnk,, shnnnnk, shnnnk." the sound emanates as the elder sharpens the knife. The young boys are really excited now, for now they know the hunt is soon to begin. The elder does this for hours, at a time, not eating or drinking, only sharpening the knife across the stone, until, at long last, the knife is sharp enough to break skin if you touched it to firmly.
Finally after several hours, the knife is ready, and sharp. The Elder calls 5 of the best youth from the tribe to himself. These are young men, around 20 or 25 who know and honor the traditions, who know when to speak and when to hold back, and who he trusts to follow his orders without question. It is now around 3 in the afternoon, and he sends them on a hunt, but neither he, nor the knife, go with them.
They hike miles out to the section of ice where water flows beneath. 4 of them wear very visible black, the fifth wears a very bland white. Two of the ones in black stand very close and visible to a hole in the ice where the seals must come to breath. Further along, another two take up position at a second hole, again very visible. At the the third hole, the one in white waits alone, with a single spear. A seal swims just below the ice, and notices the two men by his air hole, this is no mater, because he can still swim on to the next. At the next one, he again sees two men, so he swims on. By this next hole, he is almost out of oxygen, and must come up for air.
The man in white waits patiently as the seal comes up and looks around. He does not immediately strike, for he knows he must wait. The seal looks about, and then submerges before launching himself almost totally out of the hole. At this point, the man strikes. His thrust is deliberate and well aimed, and with it, he unleashes his full strength and skill. He is careful though, to kill the animal, and yet not let it bleed. The blood must stay inside for now.
The other men gather around, and without a word being said, they head back to the village, carrying the seal and 2 buckets of water back with them. This was not the hunt. This was the preparation.
Once at the village, they set to work. The seal is allowed to bleed into a bucket, and The Knife is dipped into the blood. The knife is dipped, and withdrawn. When it is withdrawn, the blood freezes, and The Knife is dipped again. This goes on for about 2 hours, with each new dipping, a new layer of blood freezes onto the knife. The buckets of water are kept just above freezing, with just a thin layer of ice at the top.
Finally at about midnight, the elder gathers his men together and they set out, with The Knife and the two buckets of water. They hike through the snow, walking softly so as not to alert their prey. They are totally attuned to their environment. A hightened sense of things grips them. They feel the wind, blowing towards them, they see the fresh snow, solid and without tracks in it. Now there is a snow bank about 100yd's from a thicket of trees. The elder leaves the men and walks to the snow bank alone, being careful not make a sound, nor leave a footprint. He walks to the top of the bank, more of a mound, and places the knife in the snow, being careful to leave the blade pointing vertical.
Without a word, the men carrying the buckets walk to the knife and begin poring the water around the knife in a steadily growing circle. As they poor, the circle of ice grows bigger, and bigger, and the edges grow farther and farther from The Knife. After the the buckets are emptied, the elder silently gathers his men together and says, "The hunt is complete." The men walk back to their village, not a word is uttered, but you can sense it in the air. Each one is excited. It is now about 4 in the morning and the men must get the few hours of sleep they can before the next day.
Back in those trees, a wolf slowly raises his head. He sniffs the air. There is a sent, a scent that he has been waiting for for sometime. It is the scent of blood. The pack has been hungry the past few months, and now, the scent of a wounded seal brings hope. Each member of the back sniffs, and waits. They wait for the alpha male to sense it, and when he does, they rise and go out. As they approach, each of the wolves are getting hungrier, and hungrier. But as they draw near, a new scent comes to the nostrils of the alpha male. It is the scent of man.
The alpha male holds back, fearing a trap, yet the younger ones continue on. They normally do not get as big a portion as the alpha male, and therefore, rush ahead to get what they can. The first one get's there and begins liking, and then a second and a third, then a forth. The location of the knife is set up so only four may lick the blood at a time. Have you ever licked a popsicle that was so cold, that afterwards your tongue went numb? That is what happens here. The wolf licks and licks until finally the blood is gone, and all that is left is the razor sharp edge, and when he licks this, he cuts his tongue. His tongue is numb, so he doesn't notice this, and continues to drink his own blood until, from lack of blood, he collapses. Ah, but then, a new wolf takes his place, and now there is fresh warm blood on the knife. And he continues licking until, likewise, he collapses, and another- well, you get the idea.
At 7 that morning, the village wakes up. Everyone is moving hurriedly, the dogs are barking and wagging their tails in anticipation. Everyone is excited to see what the hunt has brought in the last night. The men of the village hook up their dog teams, and away they go. They recover the kills and bring them back to the village. Nothing goes to waste. The meat feeds the people, the bones are ground down to a powder that is mixed with milk, the fur is used to make cloths for the elderly and young children that need them. What they cannot eat, they give to the dogs. Not one piece goes to waste.
Up north in the arctic circle, there is a group of people who have been living there many years. We know them as Eskimos. Now these Eskimos have been there so long, and have adapted to their environment so well, that 20 degrees Fahrenheit feels hot enough to wear a T-Shirt. Their eyes can see 32 different shades of white. When I look at fresh snow, I see pure snow. They, on the other hand, can look at a snow bank and say "That snow over there has fresh water below it, that over there has salt water flowing beneath it. Over there is snow hard enough to be ice, whereas over there is a death trap of soft snow and long drops." In other words, they are masters of the environment.
Our story takes place in a small village, the days are becoming longer, the air is getting warmer, and many of the young boys are getting restless with anticipation for what is to come. One day the elder, the oldest and wisest of the people, gets up, and takes out The Knife. "shnnnk,, shnnnnk, shnnnk." the sound emanates as the elder sharpens the knife. The young boys are really excited now, for now they know the hunt is soon to begin. The elder does this for hours, at a time, not eating or drinking, only sharpening the knife across the stone, until, at long last, the knife is sharp enough to break skin if you touched it to firmly.
Finally after several hours, the knife is ready, and sharp. The Elder calls 5 of the best youth from the tribe to himself. These are young men, around 20 or 25 who know and honor the traditions, who know when to speak and when to hold back, and who he trusts to follow his orders without question. It is now around 3 in the afternoon, and he sends them on a hunt, but neither he, nor the knife, go with them.
They hike miles out to the section of ice where water flows beneath. 4 of them wear very visible black, the fifth wears a very bland white. Two of the ones in black stand very close and visible to a hole in the ice where the seals must come to breath. Further along, another two take up position at a second hole, again very visible. At the the third hole, the one in white waits alone, with a single spear. A seal swims just below the ice, and notices the two men by his air hole, this is no mater, because he can still swim on to the next. At the next one, he again sees two men, so he swims on. By this next hole, he is almost out of oxygen, and must come up for air.
The man in white waits patiently as the seal comes up and looks around. He does not immediately strike, for he knows he must wait. The seal looks about, and then submerges before launching himself almost totally out of the hole. At this point, the man strikes. His thrust is deliberate and well aimed, and with it, he unleashes his full strength and skill. He is careful though, to kill the animal, and yet not let it bleed. The blood must stay inside for now.
The other men gather around, and without a word being said, they head back to the village, carrying the seal and 2 buckets of water back with them. This was not the hunt. This was the preparation.
Once at the village, they set to work. The seal is allowed to bleed into a bucket, and The Knife is dipped into the blood. The knife is dipped, and withdrawn. When it is withdrawn, the blood freezes, and The Knife is dipped again. This goes on for about 2 hours, with each new dipping, a new layer of blood freezes onto the knife. The buckets of water are kept just above freezing, with just a thin layer of ice at the top.
Finally at about midnight, the elder gathers his men together and they set out, with The Knife and the two buckets of water. They hike through the snow, walking softly so as not to alert their prey. They are totally attuned to their environment. A hightened sense of things grips them. They feel the wind, blowing towards them, they see the fresh snow, solid and without tracks in it. Now there is a snow bank about 100yd's from a thicket of trees. The elder leaves the men and walks to the snow bank alone, being careful not make a sound, nor leave a footprint. He walks to the top of the bank, more of a mound, and places the knife in the snow, being careful to leave the blade pointing vertical.
Without a word, the men carrying the buckets walk to the knife and begin poring the water around the knife in a steadily growing circle. As they poor, the circle of ice grows bigger, and bigger, and the edges grow farther and farther from The Knife. After the the buckets are emptied, the elder silently gathers his men together and says, "The hunt is complete." The men walk back to their village, not a word is uttered, but you can sense it in the air. Each one is excited. It is now about 4 in the morning and the men must get the few hours of sleep they can before the next day.
Back in those trees, a wolf slowly raises his head. He sniffs the air. There is a sent, a scent that he has been waiting for for sometime. It is the scent of blood. The pack has been hungry the past few months, and now, the scent of a wounded seal brings hope. Each member of the back sniffs, and waits. They wait for the alpha male to sense it, and when he does, they rise and go out. As they approach, each of the wolves are getting hungrier, and hungrier. But as they draw near, a new scent comes to the nostrils of the alpha male. It is the scent of man.
The alpha male holds back, fearing a trap, yet the younger ones continue on. They normally do not get as big a portion as the alpha male, and therefore, rush ahead to get what they can. The first one get's there and begins liking, and then a second and a third, then a forth. The location of the knife is set up so only four may lick the blood at a time. Have you ever licked a popsicle that was so cold, that afterwards your tongue went numb? That is what happens here. The wolf licks and licks until finally the blood is gone, and all that is left is the razor sharp edge, and when he licks this, he cuts his tongue. His tongue is numb, so he doesn't notice this, and continues to drink his own blood until, from lack of blood, he collapses. Ah, but then, a new wolf takes his place, and now there is fresh warm blood on the knife. And he continues licking until, likewise, he collapses, and another- well, you get the idea.
At 7 that morning, the village wakes up. Everyone is moving hurriedly, the dogs are barking and wagging their tails in anticipation. Everyone is excited to see what the hunt has brought in the last night. The men of the village hook up their dog teams, and away they go. They recover the kills and bring them back to the village. Nothing goes to waste. The meat feeds the people, the bones are ground down to a powder that is mixed with milk, the fur is used to make cloths for the elderly and young children that need them. What they cannot eat, they give to the dogs. Not one piece goes to waste.
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