Bloggame Suggestion

[jducoeur]

Whilst I attempt to calm down enough to keep the upcoming political rant well-focused, let's do something calmer. Here's a little intellectual exercise I sometimes indulge in, when I'm thinking about how things change, and how they don't.

Say that you have a time machine. But in order to prevent paradoxes, the only way you can interact with the past is by mentally communicating with people in their final moments, who can't pass on anything you tell them.

Pick a historical figure to talk to. What do you ask them, and what do you tell them? How do you expect them to react? Do you pick a great person and tell them what they accomplished? A villain to torment with their ultimate failure? Or just a normal person in the hurly-burly of normal life?

This line of thought brought to you by musings of how Henry VIII would have reacted, had he known that his child would solidify so much of what he set out to do -- but that it would be Anne Boleyn's daughter, not Jane Seymour's son, who did it. (I just finished a fascinating course on Henry's life and times. Now I really need to listen to the one that puts it in the context of what happened next...)

Comments

Gregor Mendel

[oakleaf-mirror.livejournal.com]

I confess my first reaction was 'Well, that's kinda pointless.' That was almost immediately followed by the realization that I had such a person in mind. With Gregor Mendel, I want to know if he cooked the books. Was his genetics research just incredibly lucky because he happened to pick seven traits, one from each of the seven different chromosomes (yeah, I'd have to explain chromosomes in the process) in the pea plants, or had he started with other traits, and thrown out the ones that didn't inherit independently of the others? As for telling him something, he might find it a comfort to know that while his monograph on genetics would languish for some fifty years, someone would later dust it off, and make something of if.

[mindways]

...huh. That's an exercise I also do. (Or the variant of "you can yank someone from the past into the present, at the time of their purported 'death'. They get as long or as short a time in the modern day as they want, but when they're done they return to the moment of their death.")

The one that always jumps to mind for me is Abe Lincoln - more to tell him about history after his death than anything else, though I'd certainly enjoy the chance for conversation - he died at kind of a crux-point, and from what I've read of the man I think he'd be relieved to learn how things turned out in the long run (though certainly grieved by some of the short-term events after his death).

For the pulling-forward variant, the one that usually jumps to my mind is Benjamin Franklin.

[jtdiii.livejournal.com]

Leonardo da Vinci - just to tell him how many of his ideas have come to fruition and in some cases how long it took us to accomplish them. I think he would love a ride in a helicopter or an airplane.

[siderea]

Ave carus Ovid --

Quam dixis? In re "Exegi monumentum aere perennius"?

Tuus tersum est.

Vivas adhuc.

-- Tui amici, in MMDCCLVIII AUC

[tinocherubini.livejournal.com]

At the risk of sounding Uber-geeky or possibly clinically insane, I often have long (imaginary) conversations with Ben Franklin when I'm driving long distances alone.

BTW, he approves of pizza.

[lakshmi-amman.livejournal.com]

Not surprising, my interest is Indian. From a SCAdian perspective, I'd absolutely kill to talk to a Southern Indian dancer, esp. a good one or a teacher, under those circumstances, so I could how they concieve of choreography, and how sex, dance, prostitution and religion relate in that venue.

Also, I'd love to speak with the two Indian queens I know of that made history for leading armies and being strong & powerful women. Little else is ever said about them, and I'd love to know their personal and historical stories.