The Oldest Story in the World
Forest of Distraction #26
This newsletter presents a small collection of geographic, historical, archaeological, cultural and/or artistic articles that have caught my attention. As a fantasy writer, I am fascinated by the nooks and corners of our real world and constantly find inspiration for my own world building and storytelling — it’s my hope that these newsletters are an inspirational resource for other writers, too, or for anyone who wants to learn more about our world.
The older I get, the more comfort I take from the vast scale of time and the cosmos. This wasn’t always the case. When I was little, I was utterly terrified by the concept of space, unable to comprehend the idea of anything beyond the blue dome of Earth’s sky. It wasn’t until my best friend in 2nd grade dragged to see Star Wars that my fear started to evaporate — space wasn’t empty, after all, it was filled with lightsabers and magic, heroism and laughter. It was filled with stories.
In college, I became fascinated with astronomy and cosmology, and even began a thesis project exploring the concept of infinity in the Middle Ages (I was a medieval studies major). I wrote a short story about a young woman who, on the verge of losing her mother, dreams herself as big as the entire universe. I was trying to figure it out, trying to make sense of how there could be so much of everything, compared to the very small bit of space and time that I have been given to occupy.
But the truth is we’re never going to make sense of it all, and I feel better just knowing that. My life, my work, my creations, whatever I accomplish, whatever impact I might have on the world — none of it will ever register on the cosmic scale. Nothing that has or will happen within the 10 billion year lifespan of this planet will even register. And you know what? That takes off a lot of pressure.
I don’t mean to suggest that we shouldn’t try to do our best; we ought to feel some responsibility for each other now and in the future, and strive to find personal meaning as individuals. But it does make it easier to let go of failures — like never finishing that paper about infinity — because regret, shame and blame are a waste of the too-little time we have. I’d much rather spend the time in wonder and awe of the cosmos, and let it inspire whatever it is I’m going to attempt next.
Look Who’s Talking
If Space is Vacuum, then how can we hear any sounds? Yes, you are right, we can't. However, it's possible to process any other kind of wave or oscillation electronically, scaling it to audible frequencies and then converting it into a sound wave. It is called Sonification.
Even though no sound can travel in space, sonifications provide a new way of experiencing and conceptualizing data. It allows the audience, including blind and visually impaired communities, to “listen” to astronomical images and explore their data.
Hear more: @astro.voyagers (visit on Instagram to hear the soundscapes)
The Missing Sister
The team looked for an explanation as to why the myth involved a seventh bright star, visible to the naked eye. Running simulations they found that 100,000 years ago, a seventh star – Pleione – would have been visible, but it is now too close to Atlas and so they look like a single star to the naked eye.
"When the Australians and Europeans were last together, in 100,000 [BCE], the Pleiades would have appeared as seven stars," the team wrote in their paper. "Given that both cultures refer to them as 'Seven Sisters', and that their stories about them are so similar, the evidence seems to support the hypothesis that the 'Seven Sisters' story predates the departure of the Australians and Europeans from Africa in 100,000 [BCE]."
There is other evidence for Indigenous Australian myths dating back a long, long time. One such myth told passed down by the Gunditjmara people of southern Australia involved a giant that bent down and turned into a mountain, before spewing molten rock from his mouth. This was of course thought to be telling the story of a volcanic eruption. In 2020, a team of researchers dated the lava produced by the volcano thought to be the inspiration behind it, and found that it erupted 37,000 years ago.
Read more: An Ancient Human Story About The Seven Sisters May Have Survived From 100000 BCE
Eternal Flame
Eternal Flame Falls is in Shale Creek Preserve at Chestnut Ridge Park in the Buffalo suburb of Orchard Park. In a small cave at the bottom of a 35-foot waterfall, there's an 8-inch flame that defies all scientific explanation. Despite water all around it, the flame stays lit 'almost' year-round.
Many believe the flame was lit thousands of years ago by Native Americans but how it stays lit is anyone's guess. Scientists believed the fire burns because of gas pockets that rise from the old, extremely hot bedrock made of shale, according to Discovery.com. "The rock's high temperatures break down the carbon molecules in the shale, which in turn creates natural gas."
However, Professor Arndt Schimmelmann says he and a group of scientists at Indiana University found the shale under the waterfall isn't hot enough or old enough.
So what IS keeping the flame lit? No one knows for sure.
Artist Spotlight
