In the year 2060, a young student explains life to the Cold War generation over 150 years past.
Social Studies 200 Daren Johnson
Historical Bibliography
(Begin recording) Ten a.m. seemed like a reasonable time to get up, though I considered eleven. Sometimes the ability to decide virtually every aspect of ones' life can be a bit overwhelming even at age 15. Today was also a special day: no school and everyone were preparing to cast their ballots in the election.
It has been nearly 60 years since the "peoples" revolution. For the most part the revolution was peaceful; most military bases were caught off guard. A slow acting sleeping drug was introduced into the water. The military awoke as if nothing had happened except that two days had passed them by and all of their weapons were missing. It remained a secret as far as how the Pentagon and White House fell.
For nearly five years various forms of riots and public out cry took place, but the "peoples” army was very tactful in handling such incidents- various forms of laughing gas were released into the crowds and most people ended up having a big group hug and then going home- sometimes together!
Possibly the biggest fear during this period was the relocation process. High-ranking officials, heads of industry, and the like were asked to re-distribute their wealth and even re-locate (if conflict of interest could arise).
Sometimes these officials would become so desperate that they would not only hire protection, but also take innocent people as hostages for added security. Time proved to be the best cure for this behavior. The revolution in one form or another had become virtually worldwide and it was unlikely that a bourgeois refugee could exist anywhere and retain their wealth. What purpose would it serve anyway?
Still, my best interpretation of what really happened came from my Grandmother. For Grandma things were not so simple and she would often speak of the food distribution problems, the period of lawlessness (many officers either left enforcement or exploited the instability), and general feelings of apathy. Society was not a word to be trusted. As Grandma said "Things were bad. But what if they got worse? And for a while they did."
"But Grandma" I would say, "I thought you wanted the revolution and that something had to be done?"
"Oh, something needed to be done alright, but sometimes you would rather go hungry than eat something you never tried. And this country just about starved itself to death!" She would reply with the wisdom of having already been there. I usually don't think about history this much but since I'm voting for the first time I figured it would be worth the effort. Today I'm voting for 2 of the eleven representatives of North America. It's a 2-year term with an option to sit on the advisory staff for up to 10 years.
I have a lot of respect for the people that volunteer for these jobs. There isn't much glory- a lot of hard work and time spent away from family. I'd rather be a musician.
"Wow, 10:30!" I was already late. Even without school I still had 2 hours of work in the garden and had to deliver flour to the community goods store by 2. By 11 am I'm in the garden and amazed that there was ever a food shortage anywhere. (See essays on food: distribution and management problems/solutions)
The "garden" as I call it, is one of twenty-eight community farms that I could have chosen to work on. Each farm is at least 2 square kilometers though about a quarter of it sits unused to allow it time to grow in nutrients and topsoil. I only come here six hours a week, but sometimes I spend more. There's always someone to meet or talk to. Last week I spent a good part of my day speaking to a college professor about classical music. Before that day I had always thought of classical music as music for royalty, but the artists themselves were so different.
Today I helped to fertilize an old plot of land that hadn't been used for a few years. I've already learned about crop rotation, irrigation and many old world techniques the Native Americans used long ago. In general I find most of this stuff boring but the more work I do the larger the food rations my family receives and I love to eat. We also get credits for restaurants and since I'm hoping to have a date before I'm age 50, I figure the credits might come in handy.
I showered at the farm and was happy to see that the sun was out long enough to recharge my bike. It's not that I'm lazy it's just that I like to go fast. After loading up 40 pounds of flour I'm off to the store. Sometimes when I'm riding my bike I think about how my Grandma used to wear a respirator mask to clean out the pollution from the air. Besides looking like a dork, I'm sure the mask would get all wet and yucky.
One time in school the teacher started up an old diesel engine in a sealed tank. After just a minute he filtered the air and then showed us the filter- it was black.
I finally made it to the store and gave the counter person, Dr. Stevens, my food credit tags to add to my family list. Dr. Stevens is probably the best medical doctor in North America. She volunteers at the community store not only to help out, but also to stay in touch with people and help them choose better foods. She is also an advisor on all community foods imported in the area.
My Grandma doesn't always agree with Dr. Stevens. She says there was a time when if you were sick you could take a pill and feel better in an hour. Grandma gets sick a lot but I can't remember the last time I got sick so I just listen to her and nod.
I decided to browse a bit in the store and see that same old "shop lifting is a crime" poster on the center support beam. I guess the sign must be for children or for really lazy people. All it takes is about six hours of work at the community farm to feed yourself for a week. Children 12 and under are on an automatic staple food diet credit so parents can't say "There's too many mouths to feed." They really just have to feed themselves.
On the other hand sometimes the "give six" campaigns can get a little tiresome. It's probably the only "social contract" that teenagers have trouble with. There is always someone who thinks they're too good for the available work assignments or considers work to be an extended playtime. It's probably why every 13 year old starts with community cleanup. The only way to advance to better assignments is to get your work done in an efficient manner.
My grandma said she was a cashier when she was in high school at a grocery market. She worked about twenty to thirty hours a week and never had a chance to be in a school play or any other school activities.
"Sometimes it just didn't seem fair." She would say. "I worked, came home, did homework, went to bed and nothin' got better. Other kids, ah, they'd be out drivin' cars and spending money like they got their own business or somethin'. Hell, when I raised your father I said "Son, you are gonna have to work some of the time, but the good things in life only come to those standing in the right line. Education and not no minimum wage is what will put you in that line."
Grandma said it's good that I work some and six hours a week gives me a lot of time for school. No one under 18 is allowed to work more than 10 hours a week unless it's for a school project. I once put in 20 hours for a theatre stage project, but its okay since it's part of my major.
"Yikes! Do I know how to take a detour or what?"
Well, since this essay or monologue is written to some fictitious character in the past you probably would just love to hear what a store of the future has in store. (I hope bad humor is excused in this project).
It's difficult for me to imagine what the store my grandmother worked in was like. Most of our food comes directly from the farm. The community market is our import trade area. Food that is out of season is brought in with different ration ratios. As customers, we're allowed to purchase certain amounts depending on their ratio of availability.
For example: I'm fifteen and work at least six hours a week which means if I really wanted it I could have 24 fruit for the week. Apples are plentiful and have a 20 to 24 ratio, Bananas are 8 to 44, and oranges are 6 to 24. So, I could get 6 oranges and 18 of the other fruit. But if I only wanted 8 bananas and no apples I could still only get 6 oranges. It may sound confusing but it's nothing a computer can't handle and if you really want 14 oranges you can trade with people. The "food police" really don't seem to exist any more than Santa Claus. But if the "food police" can stop a kid from crying in the store then the “food police” can’t be that bad. At least it’s just a fable now.
Food is also brought to the Community store that is not common to most local farms. My farm, like 2 others, has a flourmill. Instead of taking flour to the Other 25 farms we take it to the market.
Actually, I think the Past was more confusing. You had different companies using "coupons” and "sales" to get you to buy something. They spent lots of money on advertising, but made their food as cheap as possible. It’s amazing how many chemicals that food had and how people were never told and even ignored all the research that said, “This stuff will kill you!"
Okay, yeah, so after the store I guess it was time for me to do my civil duty.
There are several polling places and I decided that the one next to our school would be best. I figured maybe seeing my friends would ease this odd nervous feeling I had about voting. If there is one thing history has taught me is that few political systems can ever be trusted and what really matters, whatever the system, is who is stirring the ship.
Well, Just my luck. Some of my friends are there but they brought their Parents. So much for feeling like an adult, I wish I had done the same.
Although there are twenty voting booths the line is long. Prior to voting each voter is required to listen (or read) a one-minute biography of each candidate in a private booth. In this way no one votes without a fundamental understanding of each candidate. The voter may also use the computer as a reference for each candidate’s stance on various issues including their staff background. Many old world politicians were no more than fronts for a business interest they represented in secret.
I have to admit, I listened to each candidate’s minute and then asked a few questions only because I didn't want others to think that I didn't take this serious. Actually, since no candidate spoke too nice of cyber spacing (The drug war of our day) none of them were appealing, but I was impressed with everyone's stance on the arts. Musicians can never have too many friends. So, with my eyes nearly shut I made my first votes ever.
When the receipt came out and the voice told me to take it I almost forgot what to do. The receipt lists my decisions. My next step is to verify my choices and place the receipt in a large receptacle.
People no longer trust computers, so at the end of the election (before the winner is announced) each candidate may choose a polling place to be placed in question. At this time the receptacle is opened at that polling place and each ballot or receipt is counted. If the computer varies from the receipts then the election is declared invalid and the election must take place in another 3 days.
You would think voting would be more efficient then in the past but I guess the only thing that's changed is that people have a whole week and 3 mandatory days off from work to guarantee everyone has a chance to vote.
Well, everything checked out fine. My vote was now placed among thousands where it will find either strong or weak allies.
Although I didn't realize it at the time, Grandma was standing outside all along waiting for me to place my vote.
"Grandma, I didn't know you were voting here today?"
"Neither did I till I saw you on your bike."
"I'm not sure if I voted for the right person?" I said.
"Well, we can't be sure of anything until it’s already happened. And what you did today will certainly make something happen. The mistakes you make today will be your lessons tomorrow. The things you did right will be your rewards.
It's when we do nothing we are left with nothing."
Historical Bibliography
(Begin recording) Ten a.m. seemed like a reasonable time to get up, though I considered eleven. Sometimes the ability to decide virtually every aspect of ones' life can be a bit overwhelming even at age 15. Today was also a special day: no school and everyone were preparing to cast their ballots in the election.
It has been nearly 60 years since the "peoples" revolution. For the most part the revolution was peaceful; most military bases were caught off guard. A slow acting sleeping drug was introduced into the water. The military awoke as if nothing had happened except that two days had passed them by and all of their weapons were missing. It remained a secret as far as how the Pentagon and White House fell.
For nearly five years various forms of riots and public out cry took place, but the "peoples” army was very tactful in handling such incidents- various forms of laughing gas were released into the crowds and most people ended up having a big group hug and then going home- sometimes together!
Possibly the biggest fear during this period was the relocation process. High-ranking officials, heads of industry, and the like were asked to re-distribute their wealth and even re-locate (if conflict of interest could arise).
Sometimes these officials would become so desperate that they would not only hire protection, but also take innocent people as hostages for added security. Time proved to be the best cure for this behavior. The revolution in one form or another had become virtually worldwide and it was unlikely that a bourgeois refugee could exist anywhere and retain their wealth. What purpose would it serve anyway?
Still, my best interpretation of what really happened came from my Grandmother. For Grandma things were not so simple and she would often speak of the food distribution problems, the period of lawlessness (many officers either left enforcement or exploited the instability), and general feelings of apathy. Society was not a word to be trusted. As Grandma said "Things were bad. But what if they got worse? And for a while they did."
"But Grandma" I would say, "I thought you wanted the revolution and that something had to be done?"
"Oh, something needed to be done alright, but sometimes you would rather go hungry than eat something you never tried. And this country just about starved itself to death!" She would reply with the wisdom of having already been there. I usually don't think about history this much but since I'm voting for the first time I figured it would be worth the effort. Today I'm voting for 2 of the eleven representatives of North America. It's a 2-year term with an option to sit on the advisory staff for up to 10 years.
I have a lot of respect for the people that volunteer for these jobs. There isn't much glory- a lot of hard work and time spent away from family. I'd rather be a musician.
"Wow, 10:30!" I was already late. Even without school I still had 2 hours of work in the garden and had to deliver flour to the community goods store by 2. By 11 am I'm in the garden and amazed that there was ever a food shortage anywhere. (See essays on food: distribution and management problems/solutions)
The "garden" as I call it, is one of twenty-eight community farms that I could have chosen to work on. Each farm is at least 2 square kilometers though about a quarter of it sits unused to allow it time to grow in nutrients and topsoil. I only come here six hours a week, but sometimes I spend more. There's always someone to meet or talk to. Last week I spent a good part of my day speaking to a college professor about classical music. Before that day I had always thought of classical music as music for royalty, but the artists themselves were so different.
Today I helped to fertilize an old plot of land that hadn't been used for a few years. I've already learned about crop rotation, irrigation and many old world techniques the Native Americans used long ago. In general I find most of this stuff boring but the more work I do the larger the food rations my family receives and I love to eat. We also get credits for restaurants and since I'm hoping to have a date before I'm age 50, I figure the credits might come in handy.
I showered at the farm and was happy to see that the sun was out long enough to recharge my bike. It's not that I'm lazy it's just that I like to go fast. After loading up 40 pounds of flour I'm off to the store. Sometimes when I'm riding my bike I think about how my Grandma used to wear a respirator mask to clean out the pollution from the air. Besides looking like a dork, I'm sure the mask would get all wet and yucky.
One time in school the teacher started up an old diesel engine in a sealed tank. After just a minute he filtered the air and then showed us the filter- it was black.
I finally made it to the store and gave the counter person, Dr. Stevens, my food credit tags to add to my family list. Dr. Stevens is probably the best medical doctor in North America. She volunteers at the community store not only to help out, but also to stay in touch with people and help them choose better foods. She is also an advisor on all community foods imported in the area.
My Grandma doesn't always agree with Dr. Stevens. She says there was a time when if you were sick you could take a pill and feel better in an hour. Grandma gets sick a lot but I can't remember the last time I got sick so I just listen to her and nod.
I decided to browse a bit in the store and see that same old "shop lifting is a crime" poster on the center support beam. I guess the sign must be for children or for really lazy people. All it takes is about six hours of work at the community farm to feed yourself for a week. Children 12 and under are on an automatic staple food diet credit so parents can't say "There's too many mouths to feed." They really just have to feed themselves.
On the other hand sometimes the "give six" campaigns can get a little tiresome. It's probably the only "social contract" that teenagers have trouble with. There is always someone who thinks they're too good for the available work assignments or considers work to be an extended playtime. It's probably why every 13 year old starts with community cleanup. The only way to advance to better assignments is to get your work done in an efficient manner.
My grandma said she was a cashier when she was in high school at a grocery market. She worked about twenty to thirty hours a week and never had a chance to be in a school play or any other school activities.
"Sometimes it just didn't seem fair." She would say. "I worked, came home, did homework, went to bed and nothin' got better. Other kids, ah, they'd be out drivin' cars and spending money like they got their own business or somethin'. Hell, when I raised your father I said "Son, you are gonna have to work some of the time, but the good things in life only come to those standing in the right line. Education and not no minimum wage is what will put you in that line."
Grandma said it's good that I work some and six hours a week gives me a lot of time for school. No one under 18 is allowed to work more than 10 hours a week unless it's for a school project. I once put in 20 hours for a theatre stage project, but its okay since it's part of my major.
"Yikes! Do I know how to take a detour or what?"
Well, since this essay or monologue is written to some fictitious character in the past you probably would just love to hear what a store of the future has in store. (I hope bad humor is excused in this project).
It's difficult for me to imagine what the store my grandmother worked in was like. Most of our food comes directly from the farm. The community market is our import trade area. Food that is out of season is brought in with different ration ratios. As customers, we're allowed to purchase certain amounts depending on their ratio of availability.
For example: I'm fifteen and work at least six hours a week which means if I really wanted it I could have 24 fruit for the week. Apples are plentiful and have a 20 to 24 ratio, Bananas are 8 to 44, and oranges are 6 to 24. So, I could get 6 oranges and 18 of the other fruit. But if I only wanted 8 bananas and no apples I could still only get 6 oranges. It may sound confusing but it's nothing a computer can't handle and if you really want 14 oranges you can trade with people. The "food police" really don't seem to exist any more than Santa Claus. But if the "food police" can stop a kid from crying in the store then the “food police” can’t be that bad. At least it’s just a fable now.
Food is also brought to the Community store that is not common to most local farms. My farm, like 2 others, has a flourmill. Instead of taking flour to the Other 25 farms we take it to the market.
Actually, I think the Past was more confusing. You had different companies using "coupons” and "sales" to get you to buy something. They spent lots of money on advertising, but made their food as cheap as possible. It’s amazing how many chemicals that food had and how people were never told and even ignored all the research that said, “This stuff will kill you!"
Okay, yeah, so after the store I guess it was time for me to do my civil duty.
There are several polling places and I decided that the one next to our school would be best. I figured maybe seeing my friends would ease this odd nervous feeling I had about voting. If there is one thing history has taught me is that few political systems can ever be trusted and what really matters, whatever the system, is who is stirring the ship.
Well, Just my luck. Some of my friends are there but they brought their Parents. So much for feeling like an adult, I wish I had done the same.
Although there are twenty voting booths the line is long. Prior to voting each voter is required to listen (or read) a one-minute biography of each candidate in a private booth. In this way no one votes without a fundamental understanding of each candidate. The voter may also use the computer as a reference for each candidate’s stance on various issues including their staff background. Many old world politicians were no more than fronts for a business interest they represented in secret.
I have to admit, I listened to each candidate’s minute and then asked a few questions only because I didn't want others to think that I didn't take this serious. Actually, since no candidate spoke too nice of cyber spacing (The drug war of our day) none of them were appealing, but I was impressed with everyone's stance on the arts. Musicians can never have too many friends. So, with my eyes nearly shut I made my first votes ever.
When the receipt came out and the voice told me to take it I almost forgot what to do. The receipt lists my decisions. My next step is to verify my choices and place the receipt in a large receptacle.
People no longer trust computers, so at the end of the election (before the winner is announced) each candidate may choose a polling place to be placed in question. At this time the receptacle is opened at that polling place and each ballot or receipt is counted. If the computer varies from the receipts then the election is declared invalid and the election must take place in another 3 days.
You would think voting would be more efficient then in the past but I guess the only thing that's changed is that people have a whole week and 3 mandatory days off from work to guarantee everyone has a chance to vote.
Well, everything checked out fine. My vote was now placed among thousands where it will find either strong or weak allies.
Although I didn't realize it at the time, Grandma was standing outside all along waiting for me to place my vote.
"Grandma, I didn't know you were voting here today?"
"Neither did I till I saw you on your bike."
"I'm not sure if I voted for the right person?" I said.
"Well, we can't be sure of anything until it’s already happened. And what you did today will certainly make something happen. The mistakes you make today will be your lessons tomorrow. The things you did right will be your rewards.
It's when we do nothing we are left with nothing."