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[Writing] The Great American Myth

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I wrote this as an exploration of a world I'm crafting for my project Universe Acid. http://rmrk.net/index.php/topic,32206.msg394426.html#msg394426 This is a common tale that varies (as stories do) between storytellers but remains widely told throughout the World. This is no showcase of my writing style, but only my ability to emulate the "epic poetry" style of story telling.

What is our past is this World's myth. So huddle close around the fire, listen like a child. . .



A long time ago, before Poleis, before Cyrene, even before Wichita, there was a mighty nation that its people called Amery’Ka. Indeed, that same country that our tales name Jeffersonia, after its legendary founder.

      And it was in this time that the whole world was nursing its wounds received from a global war. Of all the nations – conqueror and conquered – only Amery’Ka and the Orient remained at war. The two sides fought a bloody and brutal war of attrition. With no end in sight, The Princeps of America (a title that means “king,” mind you) said to his court-magicians. “The eastern kingdom spares not even their children from battle. We will kill each of their men, and then they will send women into battle. We will slaughter their women, and the orphans will rise to defend their borders. When we win it will be at a price to high.”

      “My, lord,” a Viceroy named Groves spoke, “I know of a man who may yet help us end this war without bleeding our own armies to death.”

      The Princeps’ eyes widened and he said, “Show me this man.”

      You see, there was living in this land a brilliant scientist by the name of Oppenheimer. In all of the Western Lands there was no man as wise or as charming as was Oppenheimer. When it came time, it was Viceroy Groves himself who approached Oppenheimer and demanded that he create a weapon capable of wiping out a City-State and winning a war. Oppenheimer was put to work immediately, and not long after he discovered a new power – a technology called “Atomics.” (Indeed the very same we use today!)

      Through Atomics, Oppenheimer harnessed a new force of which the likes of man had never seen. He soon knew that the power was too much for any mortal man to grasp (for it was believed, in these times that heroic men were descended from immortal gods). Realizing the destructive potential of Atomics, Oppenheimer locked himself in a Tower, and single handedly developed what became known as the “Atomic Bomb.” His writings were kept a tightly guarded secret, and the only man allowed in the Tower was an equally glorious man. You may have guessed, this man was the Illustrious Hero Einstein.

      Only in Einstein, did Oppenheimer confer his secrets and his doubts. Oppenheimer expressed his regret for creating such violent a weapon. On one occasion, after long hours in the laboratory, Oppenheimer turned to Einstein and said. “O, I am loathe to give man a sword the gods themselves fear to use!”

      And indeed he was right, for never in nature has an atomic explosion taken place. 

      Months went by and the war raged on, until one day Viceroy Groves knocked on Oppenheimer’s Door.  He explained that the Princeps needed to use the weapon soon, before the price of war was too much. And although he despaired, Oppenheimer agreed to demonstrate his new weapon for the Princeps and his whole council in the remotest corner of the Alamogordo Desert. The Viceroy returned eagerly to his master, and Einstein and Oppenheimer shared a pained look that expressed the gravity of Oppenheimer’s actions.

      The next day in the Desert, the Princeps and his men awaited eagerly in the scorching heat, sweat soaking their fine suits. Oppenheimer explained that the bomb, one he had named “Trinity,” would be dropped in the Desert miles away and the men would still be able to see its blast. As the Princeps and his men watched the sky, Oppenheimer mounted upon a large stone and recalled an ancient prophecy:

      “If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one.”

      The Princeps and his men watched the man in amazement. His frame dark before the white desert, his eyes glistening with power and intelligence, the wind blowing his tie.

       And then he said, still quoting, “I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds,”

      It was then that the bomb fell. Falling a few miles closer, just as Oppenheimer had planned. The men and his council were ripped from their bones, dissipated into dust, and left only their shadows stained on the desert sands. Their last vision was of a great fire, an enormous mushroom, and the greatest man to have ever lived, silhouetted by the brilliance of a thousand suns.
« Last Edit: May 25, 2015, 09:54:06 AM by boe »

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Sounds like something Kilgore Trout would write. Good story~

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Very, very cool.

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Sounds like something Kilgore Trout would write. Good story~

Thank you! I was about to say "I sadly only know of Mr. Trout through Vonnegut's work" and then discovered that he was solely of Vonnegut's creation. >_<
Should've figured, that man was a genius.

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Fantastic work.
you awoke in a burning paperhouse
from the infinite fields of dreamless sleep