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Friday, December 2, 2022

Creating Alien Aliens 20...How Might Aliens Think Differently Than We Do?

It's been a while since I seriously analyzed my writing – though I’ve certainly analyzed individual stories as well as concepts (like “What went RIGHT?” and “Can this story be SAVED?”, creating Alien Aliens, and mining the asteroids, as well as gleaning advice from writers who’ve influenced me (both living and dead)), I’ve never looked at where my ideas come from and how they grow into stories.

Until now. What sparked this line of thought?

On Tuesday, my son and two of my three grandchildren, headed off into the wild-blue-yonder to do some “disperse camping”.

“The HECK?!?!?!” you exclaim. Yeah, me too, initially. But here’s the official definition for you: “Dispersed camping is the term used for camping anywhere in [a] National Forest [In the case of Minnesota, where I live, this also holds for State Forests] OUTSIDE of a designated campground. Dispersed camping means no services; such as trash removal, and little or no facilities; such as tables and fire pits, are provided. Some popular dispersed camping areas may have toilets. [Not the places WE went to!!! It’s dig a hole or go into Town for a gas station break!] There are extra responsibilities and skills that are necessary for dispersed camping. It is your responsibility to know these before you try this new experience. Camping rules and regulations apply to make your experience safe, and to keep the natural resources scenic and unspoiled for other campers.”

We went to Sand Dune State Forest (SDSF) and Sheyenne National Grasslands (SNP) for three days of semi-dispersed camping – “semi” because while Sand Dune was truly dispersed, Sheyenne was at a campground with level sites, a concrete picnic table, a fire ring, and a hand-pumped water source. (See above – this ALSO represents a “fountain of ideas”!)

So, we started at SDSF with a truly dispersed campsite. Clearly occupied by someone else before us, we did a bit of exploring until we figured it was fine for us to use. We found a hooded sweatshirt hanging on a branch on top of a bag of garbage…

To start with, WHY was it hanging there? Had a camper gotten sweaty, taken it off and headed on down the trail…and never returned, perhaps eaten by a wolf or a pack of coyotes? (We heard both later on during the dark of night…) Perhaps abducted by aliens?!? Josh later mentioned he’d inspected it as well, and as a veteran of many Army camping expeditions (though he’s still active duty), he’d noticed it was covered with burrs – not the soft and annoying burdock burr! In Minnesota, our burrs are sharp as needles and not only make you bleed, puncture you with numerous spikes, but also induce intense itching…with the apt name, “Cenchrus longispinus” – grass with a long spike…

The day continued, and as night fell, and we finished our supper of hotdogs, buns, fake-Oreo cookies, unscrewed and a fire-roasted marshmallow added for NOT-S’mores…we reached the night. Poets often wax ecstatic about the silence of the wilderness, but (and we weren’t exactly IN the wilderness), I can attest to the fact that it was NOT silent. Across the marsh, a passel of nasty varmints known as coyote chorused in noisy, garbled yapping, yipping, and barking.

That was until they were silenced by the long, “lone wolf” howl. We learned on a different trip farther into Northern Minnesota, that a single wolf will howl to find out if there’s a pack around. Possibly its own pack, possible a new pack (if it’s young). [This of course, plays into my recent thoughts about how to “think alien”…]

After sliding downhill and pulling myself back up all night (I slid in my sleeping bag to the bottom of my cot…), the sun rose, and after digging cattail roots and boiling them with eggs and kielbasa, we broke camp, loaded up, stopped for a cup of coffee for Grandpa (even my SON calls me “Grandpa” these days), and headed north. One of our initial stops was because we saw a “Brown Traffic Sign [that] indicates nearby recreational and cultural interest sites.”

This led to a small town in North Dakota that held a fort that was “the first permanent military settlement in what became North Dakota, and is thus known as ‘The Gateway to the Dakotas’. It was besieged by the Dakota for more than six weeks during the Dakota War of 1862…the small fort’s defenses were tested. When increasing Indian activity by reconnaissance parties, drove nearby settlers into the fort's stockade. The Dakota alternated between sniping and all-out attacks on all four sides of the fort. The garrison and settlers with rifles, shotguns, and howitzers held the fort. The War was far-ranging and this small fort was spared from major assault, though consistently harassed…Afterward, the town that built up around it served as a transportation hub, guarding the Red River Trails used by the Red River ox cart trains of the late fur trade, military supply wagon trains, stagecoach routes, and steamboat traffic on the Red River.”

The story as laid out by the place was incredibly one-sided. I understand NOW what was happening after reading several accounts of the wars fought over the Great Plains between the Dakota, Ojibway, and several other tribes. I WILL note here that the Dakota and Ojibway had been fighting each other for hundreds of years prior to colonial advancement into their territory. I will also note that several OTHER tribes of indigenous people sided AGAINST the Ojibway and Dakota as well. “Despite the myth that Aboriginals lived in happy harmony before the arrival of Europeans, war was central to the way of life of many First Nation cultures. Indeed, war was a persistent reality in all regions though, as Tom Holm has argued, it waxed in intensity, frequency and decisiveness. The causes were complex and often interrelated, springing from both individual and collective motivations and needs.” The problem here, was that the displays and comments made the white settlers into people who were just minding their business, and the Dakota into unreasonable savages…which begged the question, if we DO meet intelligent life Out There, will we be Dakota or Europeans? The choice might be OURS.

Several hours later saw us on the Sheyenne National Grasslands. A car tour took us to a few moderately interesting places…until it was no long only MODERATELY interesting! It sparked countless thoughts in me regarding my assumptions that aliens would think “just like us” and that Intelligence among other life forms may NOT be immediately recognizable to us.

For example, while monogamy among Human mates is a current hot topic in which several sides scream that polygamy is absolutely natural and only Humans clinging to outmoded, artificial forms of morality reinforced by equally outmoded and artificial religions; are incapable of grasping the true nature of…well Nature – which is, in their eyes, a wild free-for-all dance of doing whatever you want.

And yet…Trumpeter Swans mate for life; as do the far less majestic Canadian Geese. A couple of animal species around whom we’ve built transcendent mystique – Timber wolves and lions do so as well; as do animals who possibly stir even the most jaded of American hearts – bald eagles. We saw or heard all of these (except for the lions…not very common in North Dakota.) But we saw incontrovertible evidence that once eagles mate, they not only STAY together, they build a nest that they return to for as long as they both survive – and the result? A nest that has truly awe-inspiring proportions that you can see above, guarded as it is, by mated pair of near-meter-tall Bald Eagles.

Would eagle-like aliens THINK like Humans do? CLEARLY they would not! What exactly would such beings make of the Human ritual of divorce? How might they judge us?

I’ve got more to share, but I’ll leave you today with the image above that I took a couple of days ago.

References: https://www.fs.usda.gov/detailfull/fishlake/recreation/?cid=stelprdb5121831https://www.canada.ca/en/department-national-defence/services/military-history/history-heritage/popular-books/aboriginal-people-canadian-military/warfare-pre-columbian-north-america.html
Image: From my Personal Collection

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