I’ve been lining up folks to come into the C.A.T. studio for my documentary about the history of using alternative media to promote social and political change in Fayetteville, but of late my interest has been piqued by the History Channel, the cable outlet whose connection with actual history may be tenuous at best on occasion.
The History International Channel seems to have both feet on the ground - most of the time - but the regular History Channel, with its fascination with programming such as Ice Road Truckers and Axe-Men, and shows about pawnshops seems, at first blush, to be aimed at the morons among us.
UFO Hunters? Bigfoot “investigators”? Were the Masons responsible for the cancellation of Gilligan’s Island?
No, the average, jaded individual out there, loaded down with too much cynicism and way too much education, might scoff at this sort of hard-hitting journalism. But since Nancy Dubac took the reins at the History Channel in 2007, and begun seeking ever-younger viewers, the History Channel has been mixing history, conspiracy theory and reality in an increasingly-bizarre fashion.
In short, the History Channel at times look like a video version of the Weekly World News.
It was with this in mind that I came up with an idea for my very own History Channel documentary that is sure to grab their attention.
George Armstrong Custer.
It has all the elements of great drama. An ambitious, seriously cracked military leader and his men slaughtered by Indians at the Little Big Horn. A huge national scandal. But what if it wasn’t as history has painted it?
What if Custer and his men were the early test subjects of the first U.S. military Super Soldier program? We’ll call it Operation Blunderbuss. The exact details don’t matter (this is, after all, the History Channel), all we are looking for is drama and speculation.
Did the experiment go awry? Did Custer and his men, upon seeing the Indian camp, turn on each other in fear and rage, instead of the Indians? Did the Indians simply take the credit, and the U.S. Army allow them to, to avoid exposure of the program?
It could work.
I’ve seen dozens (now you know what I do in my spare time) of these documentaries, and I know all the ingredients.
Wild theories, dramatic re-enactments, “experts” with bad hair, maybe a quatrain or two from Nostradamus, and I am all set.
And, of course, some tight-lipped “No comments,” from people who work for the government.
After all, what’s on tonight?
The Nostradamus Effect: The Third AntiChrist? The Nostradamus Effect: Da Vinci’s Armageddon. Mystery Quest: Hitler’s Escape. Nazi Prophecies.
Yeah. I’ll fit right in.
Quote of the Day
If you're going to do something tonight that you'll be sorry for tomorrow morning, sleep late. - Henny Youngman
My favorite spam of the week
I got a piece of spam last week titled - “From the desk of Dr. William Adama.” Hey, if it ain’t an invitation to tour the Galactica, I’m not interested.
The Time Travel Question - Adam Fire Cat
Continuing a series of Time Travel questions. Today we have Adam Fire Cat, who ran for mayor of Fayetteville in 2008.
T’is always an interesting question to ask one “when we would go in time” and “what would we do” if the aforementioned opportunity ever came to be. I’ve had a good think over the subject during my years alive and determined that I would go into the distant future given the option. At the bare minimum, five thousand years. It’s the author in me, I suppose, that wants to know the ending to the great story that is the human race. I oft find myself wondering if we die out, become stagnant, or end up god like with the advent of our technology.
If I knew the outcome, mayhap I could even consider death in a better light(although, it has always been my strong belief that everyone should try to live forever or die trying). However... I suppose this question is specific to time travel to the past. So I’ll tackle that if such is the case... whatever the case may be... just in case. I recall many answers to this from other people, and I have found clichés o’ plenty. The most popular answer to date is the people who would assassinate one Adolf Hitler.
Then comes directly thereafter, and without pause I might add, the overdone conundrum of “If you had to kill one person to save many” Certain atheists have answered that with more interesting complexity by saying they’d kill all major religious figures as a service to the future of our world. As curious as I might be to observe the resulting world to come about after
someone shoots Allah, Buddha, and Jesus in the face with a Dirty Harry-esque revolver launching rounds of depleted uranium... not my cup of tea. No matter the response these people utter, it tends to come down to the useless meeting of some historical figure of which they already suspect the general outcome beforehand, or damn close to their own personal murderous tendencies in vigilante justice.
So I keep thinking what really qualifies as historical? That’s really the bitch isn’t it? It must be popular or famous in order to be written down in the history books. Everything else just comes down to... a bunch of people died... I guess they had names or something... Thus I reject those popular events and just go with something that did matter to me personally. Something that is historical to me. And that... that comes down to regret.
I lost a dear friend of mine in a hospital in Springdale the year before running for mayor. We had been good friends and lovers, but both of us had our own lives going on one city apart. Phlice Burns was her name, and taking from the old adage of “If I knew then what I know now . . .” I would have saved her from herself. If that had occurred, likely I would not have ended up running for mayor. Eventually, I’d have moved out with her, and therefore not been evicted, having left on my own(the last straw that would motivate me to run for office). I could have settled for an ordinary life... and I think that would have been just fine. But that was not to be, and never again.
A point of interest in time traveling: Did you know that they found Egyptian Hieroglyphs which contained a set of jokes that they later translated? They turned out to be sex and fart jokes. That says everything I’’ve ever needed to know about visiting early historical periods. No matter WHEN you go, there you are. Here’s a hypothetical for you though. If I knew for a fact that the world was going to end tomorrow, but I couldn’t prove it nor could anyone else back me up on that, would you want me to tell you anyway or just keep it to myself?
Myself, I wouldn’t tell anyone because I’d like their last day to be spent in the semi-bliss of not knowing. I wouldn’t tell a soul. Well, you have a nice day.