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With Canadian provinces joining America, how is that going to shake up politics in the short term in regards to Electoral votes and political parties?
A Second Sunrise: Taiwan of 2020 Sent Back to 1911
- Thread starter ChrisProvidence
- Start date
- Original Modern Post-1900
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
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We're likely to see a short-term addition of however-many votes are necessary to the Electoral College, though the American government's habit of saying "They do WHAT in the future?!" and then coming up with ways to fix it means that the House is much larger to accommodate this.
As for parties, the two seem to be undergoing a "Progressive Renaissance," though regionalism and urbanization definitely play a factor.
In short, the Republicans get the East Coast and the West Coast of Canada, while the Democrats take everything between Alberta and Quebec during the Special Elections.
That said, these are subject to change as the years go on (and I am writing this while half-asleep).
The OTL decision to make the size of the House fixed forever wasn't until 1929, and while this isn't likely to happen yet in this timeline due to the proximity of the admission of the Canadian provinces to the next apportionment, the more dysfunctional aspects we typically attribute to the electoral college - at least those that can be fixed with a larger House - are largely an artifact of the parties polarizing heavily on urban-rural lines, which is not an immediate problem for 1920s America. As tempting as it is to imagine a much larger House due to its perceived role in present-day problems, it's not likely that the final size of the house will be much more than 500, even if it is *slightly* larger than OTL. It's more likely for the electoral college itself to be reformed some other way. The connection of the size of the House to OTL modern-day political problems is too remote and too abstract to really get that "They do WHAT in the future?" reaction.
In the short term, the size of the house was set to 435 [a number not then intended to be permanent] in 1913, and the admission of the Canadian provinces as new states would likely lead to an interim apportionment, adding an appropriate number of representatives for each new state without changing anything else. Based on my estimates, the interim apportionment would result in the House having 471 members - 12 for Ontario, 10 for Quebec, and most of the rest getting 2-3. 1930 is a census year, so a it won't be too long until a proper apportionment can be done. 475 seems like a reasonable number. It would be 621 if calculated the same way as in 1911 [one per 212,000 population basically], but the population per representative historically was less with each apportionment.
*counts provinces*
Newfoundland was not part of Canada; Prince Edward Island may not have had the population to qualify for statehood [88,615 as of 1921, compare Arizona with 204,354 in 1910]
Quebec joining the United States in this TL?
There is only one problem,Quebec speaks French and the great majority of American political documents was written in English including the U.S Declaration of Independence and the U.S Constitution.
How the U.S politicians will get around that problem?
There is only one problem,Quebec speaks French and the great majority of American political documents was written in English including the U.S Declaration of Independence and the U.S Constitution.
How the U.S politicians will get around that problem?
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- He/Him
So basically the Republicans and Democrats absorb Canada's existing political parties? I figured they would continue as separate parties first.
What will be the future of Ottawa in terms of being a center of administration? With Canada joining America, will everything be brought to DC or will Ottawa still have some purpose? How much of Canada's existing political institutions will be kept, changed, or removed as it gets brought in?
Canada had around 10 million people in 1929 compared to America's 121 million. The Liberal, Progressive, and Conservative Parties - the three parties in Canadian federal politics at the time - are tiny and irrelevant compared to the American parties in any of the large states, much less across the entire country.
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
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Working on next chapter. Topics I'm considering to cover:
•The legacy of Holdouts/Rhodesiaboos
•Latin American Radicalism
•Check in on how Gran Colombia/Brazil/Argentina/Chile/Peru/Bolivia/Paraguay/Uraguay are doing
•Chinese rail strikes and unionization
•MIB Shenanigans
•President Wang Jingwei?
•Kuomintang splitting?
•European Reconstruction
•Tolkien's new book
•Baseball (Also Ray Chapman isn't dead)
•Asian Cooperation/Integration
•Canadian-American Politics
•Spain.
•Islam without the Saudis
•How's India doing these days?
•Movies
•Tabletop gaming
So, I'm going to be busy. Really busy.
•The legacy of Holdouts/Rhodesiaboos
•Latin American Radicalism
•Check in on how Gran Colombia/Brazil/Argentina/Chile/Peru/Bolivia/Paraguay/Uraguay are doing
•Chinese rail strikes and unionization
•MIB Shenanigans
•President Wang Jingwei?
•Kuomintang splitting?
•European Reconstruction
•Tolkien's new book
•Baseball (Also Ray Chapman isn't dead)
•Asian Cooperation/Integration
•Canadian-American Politics
•Spain.
•Islam without the Saudis
•How's India doing these days?
•Movies
•Tabletop gaming
So, I'm going to be busy. Really busy.
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
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Thanks. Probably going to be a while, though.
And multiple chapters, now that I think about it.
- Location
- San Francisco, CAlifornia
Looking forward to the next story update!
So I guess some of the biggest family crime and mafia in OTL end up go to that 'legit' club now due to the fact the government know beforehand what they will do and will bust in if they continue or plan to keep doing criminal stuff and indirect control government later on here ?
And for more idea to cover, how about culture exchange/reaction like food/dish here ? (because western don't like china food in the past ? So what they think about the new modern china disk then ? Or at least the modify version that taste more suitable)
And for more idea to cover, how about culture exchange/reaction like food/dish here ? (because western don't like china food in the past ? So what they think about the new modern china disk then ? Or at least the modify version that taste more suitable)
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Not just Chinese food. What about modern Western food trends, assuming there is enough material on that that was brought back.
Heck modern Asian food to the Asians of the past. Modernized Korean BBQ, Japanese Ramen, Taiwanese Beef Noodle Soup. Korean Fried Chicken.
Or for something more high end, Wagyu beef.
www.taiwannews.com.tw
Heck modern Asian food to the Asians of the past. Modernized Korean BBQ, Japanese Ramen, Taiwanese Beef Noodle Soup. Korean Fried Chicken.
Or for something more high end, Wagyu beef.
Former Taiwan president’s unfulfilled dream of domestic Wagyu beef lives on | Taiwan News | 2020-07-31 12:38:00
Agriculture chief vows to take up Lee Teng-hui's wish to create Taiwanese breed of Wagyu cattle | 2020-07-31 12:38:00
www.taiwannews.com.tw
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Two things:
1. Already got started on the next chapter.
2. All this food talk is making me hungry, so it might take slightly longer.
1. Already got started on the next chapter.
2. All this food talk is making me hungry, so it might take slightly longer.
Chapter 67: Boers, Baseball, and Beyond
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Nightly News, Chinese Public Broadcasting Service, 21 July 1929
ANCHOR: "We finish tonight's news with an exclusive interview with the Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau, Martin Li. Director Li will be discussing the Africa Command operations in Africa against the Holdouts. Thank you for joining us, Director."
LI: "Thank you."
ANCHOR: "Now, I'm sure that there is much you can't tell us, Director, but what can you tell us about the situation on the ground with AFRICOM?"
LI: "Should I start from the beginning?"
ANCHOR: "A brief summary would be good."
LI: "Alright. Well, this conflict is a continuation of the conflicts in the Great War, where predominantly-white colonial troops fought against Nanjing Accord and local rebel forces in Africa. These Holdouts are a mix of soldiers who didn't surrender, their families, and other civilians who formed their own communities in the Frontier, which we call "Redoubts." They use these Redoubts as bases to raid convoys for supplies and weapons, while also attacking the new African-led governments in their place.
ANCHOR: "Which these Holdouts do not recognize."
LI: "Yes. While their motivations may vary, and they aren't exactly a united front, it's a movement that is united around the opposition to Majority Rule and the support of a restoration of the colonial government and order. In response, the local governments reached out to the Nanjing Accord for military assistance and training. This is how Africa Command, or "AFRICOM" for short, was formed. As I speak, Special Forces from Asia and France train local forces, and they fight in the field against the Holdouts across Africa. Well, what's left of them, anyways."
ANCHOR: "That's a a lot to take in, Director. Could you describe operations?"
LI: *Breathes in* "Yeah, it is. And I'll say what I can. Operations are fairly simple: Local intel will get a tip, then they send out scouts and drones to do reconnaissance on the area. If they are confirmed to be Holdouts, then an operation will be planned, and forces will be deployed to clear the site and detain all non-combatants until they can be relocated."
ANCHOR: "How exactly does relocation work?"
LI: "Well, we have to remember that these are people who are, at worst, white supremacists. At best, they believe that the Africans want to 'Take their Land and Lives,' as Alliance propaganda used to say. They don't want to live in a society that is both majority-African and governed by Africans, so many of them request relocation to a majority-white country such as the United States. In cooperation with the International Red Cross, we are able to facilitate these relocation efforts as seamlessly as possible."
ANCHOR: "Some critics have described this as a form of 'Ethnic Cleansing,' or 'White Flight.' What do you say to that?"
LI: "There's no easy answer to this, but this does not fit the definition of 'Ethnic Cleansing,' which is the 'systematic elimination of an ethnic group or groups from a region or society, as by deportation, forced emigration, or genocide.' From what we have seen, and what the International Red Cross has observed, deportation has been minimal, and largely restricted to enemy combatants. White emigration has largely been of their own accord, and isolated retaliatory actions that are the exception rather than the rule do count as a genocide. Or to put it another way, these people are running for their lives, and the African governments are letting them."
ANCHOR: "Why exactly are they running?"
LI: "From what our analyses have seen, it is a mix of believing pro-colonial propaganda during the war, a rejection of Majority Rule, or economic concerns due to land redistribution programs. Very similar to what happened in the Post-Colonial Era in the Lost History."
ANCHOR: "Could you elaborate more on that?"
LI: "Sure. Basically, when the colonial era ended in a country, we would see emigration from the white population. Well, except in places like Rhodesia and South Africa, who both opposed majority rule, though they were defeated. Doesn't stop them from having a near-mythological place in a lot of white supremacists' minds back then. Kind of like the Confederacy in America."
ANCHOR: "Is it possible that we could see something similar with the Holdouts, Director?"
LI: "It's possible. But do you want to know what I saw when I visited one of those Redoubts? Subsistence farming. Flies. Malnourished animals. And do you know what the worst part was?"
ANCHOR: "Go on?"
LI: "The smell. For all their talk about survivalism, these people couldn't dispose of their waste, and you could smell it from a mile away. These were people who were 'Living off the land' like pioneers, but they couldn't even protect themselves from cholera. That's how bad it was."
LI: "So when you ask me if people will mythologize the Holdouts, I-I can't help but laugh. These are people who thought they were survivalists, but they couldn't even manage basic agriculture and water purification. And this was before we talk about the part where so many of them killed themselves, rather than fight or surrender."
ANCHOR: "Director-"
LI: "So no, I don't think they'll be remembered like the 300 Spartans. The Spartans didn't nearly starve to death or pour their feces in their own water supply. And for all their flaws, at least the Spartans died valiantly in battle."
ANCHOR: "I see... Well, that's all the time we have. Thank you for joining us, Director."
Pontifical Catholic University of São Paulo, Sao Paulo, Brazil, 1 August 1929
"What we are seeing in Latin America," Dr. Pedro da Silva said to his class, "Is a sort of snowball effect of Radicalism, in which one country's political revolution, whether electoral or otherwise, inspires similar movements in neighboring countries. This phenomenon, which academics in the United States refer to as the 'China Effect,' took place first in..."
One student raised his hand.
Oh for God's sake. It's in the name! Okay, let's see... anyone who isn't Luiz.
Thankfully, another student raised his hand. One that didn't answer the majority of Dr. da Silva's questions.
"Yes. Joao."
"China?"
"Exactly. What happened in China was that the democratic Chinese Revolution led to uprisings in neighboring countries such as Japan, Korea, and Siam; all of these revolutions also pushed for similar rights in their own countries. Then these countries, as well as China, inspired even more movements in India, the Philippines, Indonesia, Burma, and Indochina, all of which are following in the footsteps of China and the 'Little Chinas,' as some academics call them."
Another hand shot up. This time, it was Aristides, one of the more-quiet students.
"Aristides?"
"If China is the origin of the 'China Effect' in Asia... What is the source of the China Effect in the Americas?"
"I'm glad you asked," the professor said, with as much zeal as anyone who spent enough years working towards a doctorate would. "There are four origins."
"The first is Gran Colombia. Or rather, Colombia itself. Having elected a Liberal government, it provided a base of Radicalism in the north of South America that allowed it to spread to its neighbors in Venezuela and Ecuador. This movement, which dates back to previous decades, inspired similar electoral successes in Ecuador, as well as a military coup in Venezuela that led to the three Radical Liberal countries re-forming Gran Colombia. This in turn inspired the overthrow of President Augusto Leguia in Peru, which in turn inspired the overthrowing of Bautista Saavedra in Bolivia."
Though I doubt that Peru and Bolivia will reunite anytime soon.
"The second would be Argentina, whose Radical Civic Union inspired the Radicals in Chile, who came to power after the 'Nitrate Crash' sent the nitrate-reliant Chilean economy into an economic spiral. In a broad twist of fate, the Chilean Radicals would inspire their Argentinian neighbors to elect Marcelo Torcuato de Alvear and mobilize against the Patriotic League's attempted coup."
Joao raised his hand again.
"Yes, Joao?"
"Exactly how deep were these connections, professor? The Gran Colombians all have been working towards this goal for years, but is there a similar connection between Chile and Argentina?"
"Not exactly, Joao. While the Liberals in Gran Colombia ultimately worked towards re-forming Gran Colombia, the Radicals of Argentina and Chile mainly shared resources at most. Their alliance was largely-ideological, rather than nationalistic."
"I see..."
"Does that answer your question?" Joao nodded. "Okay then. Well, the third source is Brazil. President Dias Lopes' Revolutionary Alliance was inspired by the Chinese Tongmenghui's success in the Chinese Revolution. This revolution, which brought democratization, reform, and an end to Milk Coffee politics as we know it. Just as China inspired revolution in Siam and reform Japan, the Revolutionary Alliance's success would inspire the Febrerista Revolution in Paraguay and the continued rise of Batillismo over Riverismo in the Colorado Party in Uraguay."
To this, his students seemed to nod. Now, Pedro didn't know if this was because they were listening, or they just wanted the lesson to be over, but it was a simple enough concept. Just as China inspired revolution in Siam and reform in Japan, so did Brazil in Paraguay and Uruguay, respectively.
"Professor?" Pedro turned to see Luiz raising his hand. As much as Dr. da Silva was hesitant to call on him, it was less to do with any dislike of the young man. If anything, Pedro saw him as a protege.
Protege or not, he couldn't one student answer all his questions.
"If all of these countries are either the source or the result of the China Effect, that doesn't leave any country in South America."
"That is true, Luiz."
"Short of Guyana being the fourth origin of the China Effect in South America, I don't know what other country could be considered."
"Well," da Silva chuckled, "I can tell you for sure that Guyana is not the fourth origin."
"Of course, Professor. But if not them, then who?"
"Well, if the Revolutionary Alliance here in Brazil is what inspired Paraguay and Uruguay's turn towards Radicalism, which country inspired the Revolutionary Alliance?"
"...China?"
"Yes."
SInoRail Headquarters, Taipei, Taiwan, Republic of China, 25 August 1929
"General-"
"I'm not a general anymore, Chiu," Michael turned his former subordinate. "You don't have to call me that, anymore."
"Well what do I call you, then? Because right now, you're my boss, and you're the one person here who will listen to us."
He's right, isn't he?
Goddammit.
I swear, half the reason I took this job was so I wouldn't keep getting dragged into things. And where does that leave me?
Getting dragged into a labor dispute. Great.
It was a simple enough issue, now that he thought about it. The workers weren't happy with pay and safety conditions and... well, Michael had to give them that. These were people working for hours in a tunnel, and there were all sorts of risks that came with that.
Seriously, who was the idiot who didn't give them hard hats? I'm going to kick their ass if I find them.
That, including one work incident too far that sent a worker to the hospital, led to a call to unionize. And with corporations being corporations... Well, it was no surprise that the Board of Directors didn't want that.
"So, what do you want me to do? Bring it to the board? I'm outnumbered."
"They'll listen to you," Chiu insisted. "If nothing else, they can't exactly fire a war hero."
"I'd lose what standing I have, Chiu. Then we're even more in the hole. Look, you know I sympathize with you guys, but unless Nanjing steps in, we're going to be SOL."
Presidential Palace, Nanjing, Jiangsu, Republic of China, 26 August 1929
Wang Zhaoming was still getting used to the office. Sure, there were calls of "Hanjian" towards him, but those tended to be from rivals and those on their way out.
Still, it was "Hanjian this," and "Hanjian that."
Honestly, they need to come up with something else, now that it turns out most people don't care.
"We're doing this, right?" his Chief of Staff, Chen Gongbo asked him. "As a state-owned company, SinoRail is under our jurisdiction, and our allies are in the labor movement."
"That is all well and good, Chen," the new President told him, "But the plan involves digging up dirt on the Board of Directors from my time as Minister of Finance and effectively blackmailing them into allowing the rail workers to unionize. Which is illegal, I might add."
"It's not illegal to just release the information, is it?"
"No, it wouldn't," Wang admitted. "It wouldn't be the first time we used transparency to remove somebody from office for corruption. Unfortunately, that would leave us without almost half the Board of Directors, including the chairman."
"It's not as if we're running out of competent civil servants, Wang. As President, you have the last word when it comes to selection. Plus, I can already think of a qualified candidate who is a proven leader when it comes to on-the-spot promotions..."
"Or I could just give an executive order, Chen. Most of these cases are circumstantial, at best, and we don't need to fire half the Board of Directors."
That, and I doubt Michael Chen would want to be kicked upstairs for the umpteenth time.
It was a common occurrence in the aftermath of the Revolution. Revolutionaries, soldiers, and even Tongmenghui members including Wang himself were thrust into all sorts of responsibilities. It was Sink or Swim, with the incompetent sinking and being replaced by those who could at least tread water.
It led to very competent men quickly rising through the ranks. One need only look at Martin Li rising to Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau, or Michael Chen rising from Captain to General of the 6th Marine Division. Wang would like to think that he also qualified, but he would be the first to admit to being biased.
Brussels, Benelux Union, 5 September 1929
If he didn't know better, Paul-Henri Charles Spaak would have thought that the war had never come to this city.
Well, he would have, had he not fought here half a decade ago with the International Brigades. Yet here he was, in a rebuilt city in a new country that he had to govern.
It wasn't as if the French had much of a choice. Sure, they could have done a military government in-perpetuity, but that would anathema to everything the French had stood for as Radicals and Socialists.
Over time, the powers would be returned to the locals. First at the local level, and then at the national. Spaak had been in the former group, by virtue of being the right man in the right place at the right time. He was a socialist Belgian from Brussels, and they needed a socialist Belgian from Brussels to be the city's mayor.
The fact that he was the nephew of President Paul-Emile Janson certainly didn't hurt things. If anything, it helped bridge the gap between the Liberals and Labour that needed every bit of legitimacy they could get their hands on.
Which, if he was being honest, they were doing decently, for the most part. While yes, there were issues like repatriation, the fact remained that they had the diplomatic support of France and the economic support of China. That alone was enough to get Belgium- No, the Benelux back on their feet despite having to repatriate thousands of Belgians from the colonies.
That was all a few years ago, when Brussels was still somewhat-bombed out. These days, the city looked as if nothing had changed but the new flag and the abdication of the old King.
Hopefully, the war would be a thing in the past, so that the Union, as well as Europe as a whole, could look towards the future.
League Park, Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America, 28 September 1929
"Second isn't bad," he admitted. And as a former player, he knew better than most. "It still stings, though."
"Ray," his wife told him, "You've been out of the game for almost a decade."
"I know, I know. I finished it off with a World Series win and everything, but that doesn't mean I can't root for my old team, Katie."
"I've noticed. So have Junior and Kat."
That went without saying when he'd bring his family to every game he could. His family had the money for it, so why wouldn't he bring them along for a game now and then... or every week?
It was a game he loved, and this was how he could share it with the family he treasured so dearly.
Then again, he figured that most people would've felt the same way if they too had cheated the Reaper at least once, and he was no exception.
There's no way around it. I cheated death and won a World Series.
And that's before I met my children.
Okay, if he was being completely honest, him wearing a helmet was what had saved him, but he was only wearing a helmet in the first place because an island had traveled back in time.
He didn't believe it at first. If anything, he thought it was some sort of snake-oil bullshit some Uptimer was trying to sell to him and all the other players. The salesmen were insistent, though, and the Commission made the helmets mandatory.
A few years and a pitch to the head later, and Chapman had changed his mind. On that August day at the Polo Grounds, he faced off against Carl Mays, who plunked him right in the head. Next thing he knew, Chapman was on the ground, with his helmet in the dirt beside him.
He'd be out for the game, but he knew full well it was better than dying the next day and leaving Katie a widow.
There was no way around it: That helmet, which still sat proudly atop their fireplace, had given him a new lease on life that he intended to live to its fullest.
Even if his Cleveland Naps might need another twenty years to win the World Series.
ANCHOR: "We finish tonight's news with an exclusive interview with the Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau, Martin Li. Director Li will be discussing the Africa Command operations in Africa against the Holdouts. Thank you for joining us, Director."
LI: "Thank you."
ANCHOR: "Now, I'm sure that there is much you can't tell us, Director, but what can you tell us about the situation on the ground with AFRICOM?"
LI: "Should I start from the beginning?"
ANCHOR: "A brief summary would be good."
LI: "Alright. Well, this conflict is a continuation of the conflicts in the Great War, where predominantly-white colonial troops fought against Nanjing Accord and local rebel forces in Africa. These Holdouts are a mix of soldiers who didn't surrender, their families, and other civilians who formed their own communities in the Frontier, which we call "Redoubts." They use these Redoubts as bases to raid convoys for supplies and weapons, while also attacking the new African-led governments in their place.
ANCHOR: "Which these Holdouts do not recognize."
LI: "Yes. While their motivations may vary, and they aren't exactly a united front, it's a movement that is united around the opposition to Majority Rule and the support of a restoration of the colonial government and order. In response, the local governments reached out to the Nanjing Accord for military assistance and training. This is how Africa Command, or "AFRICOM" for short, was formed. As I speak, Special Forces from Asia and France train local forces, and they fight in the field against the Holdouts across Africa. Well, what's left of them, anyways."
ANCHOR: "That's a a lot to take in, Director. Could you describe operations?"
LI: *Breathes in* "Yeah, it is. And I'll say what I can. Operations are fairly simple: Local intel will get a tip, then they send out scouts and drones to do reconnaissance on the area. If they are confirmed to be Holdouts, then an operation will be planned, and forces will be deployed to clear the site and detain all non-combatants until they can be relocated."
ANCHOR: "How exactly does relocation work?"
LI: "Well, we have to remember that these are people who are, at worst, white supremacists. At best, they believe that the Africans want to 'Take their Land and Lives,' as Alliance propaganda used to say. They don't want to live in a society that is both majority-African and governed by Africans, so many of them request relocation to a majority-white country such as the United States. In cooperation with the International Red Cross, we are able to facilitate these relocation efforts as seamlessly as possible."
ANCHOR: "Some critics have described this as a form of 'Ethnic Cleansing,' or 'White Flight.' What do you say to that?"
LI: "There's no easy answer to this, but this does not fit the definition of 'Ethnic Cleansing,' which is the 'systematic elimination of an ethnic group or groups from a region or society, as by deportation, forced emigration, or genocide.' From what we have seen, and what the International Red Cross has observed, deportation has been minimal, and largely restricted to enemy combatants. White emigration has largely been of their own accord, and isolated retaliatory actions that are the exception rather than the rule do count as a genocide. Or to put it another way, these people are running for their lives, and the African governments are letting them."
ANCHOR: "Why exactly are they running?"
LI: "From what our analyses have seen, it is a mix of believing pro-colonial propaganda during the war, a rejection of Majority Rule, or economic concerns due to land redistribution programs. Very similar to what happened in the Post-Colonial Era in the Lost History."
ANCHOR: "Could you elaborate more on that?"
LI: "Sure. Basically, when the colonial era ended in a country, we would see emigration from the white population. Well, except in places like Rhodesia and South Africa, who both opposed majority rule, though they were defeated. Doesn't stop them from having a near-mythological place in a lot of white supremacists' minds back then. Kind of like the Confederacy in America."
ANCHOR: "Is it possible that we could see something similar with the Holdouts, Director?"
LI: "It's possible. But do you want to know what I saw when I visited one of those Redoubts? Subsistence farming. Flies. Malnourished animals. And do you know what the worst part was?"
ANCHOR: "Go on?"
LI: "The smell. For all their talk about survivalism, these people couldn't dispose of their waste, and you could smell it from a mile away. These were people who were 'Living off the land' like pioneers, but they couldn't even protect themselves from cholera. That's how bad it was."
LI: "So when you ask me if people will mythologize the Holdouts, I-I can't help but laugh. These are people who thought they were survivalists, but they couldn't even manage basic agriculture and water purification. And this was before we talk about the part where so many of them killed themselves, rather than fight or surrender."
ANCHOR: "Director-"
LI: "So no, I don't think they'll be remembered like the 300 Spartans. The Spartans didn't nearly starve to death or pour their feces in their own water supply. And for all their flaws, at least the Spartans died valiantly in battle."
ANCHOR: "I see... Well, that's all the time we have. Thank you for joining us, Director."
Pontifical Catholic University of São Paulo, Sao Paulo, Brazil, 1 August 1929
"What we are seeing in Latin America," Dr. Pedro da Silva said to his class, "Is a sort of snowball effect of Radicalism, in which one country's political revolution, whether electoral or otherwise, inspires similar movements in neighboring countries. This phenomenon, which academics in the United States refer to as the 'China Effect,' took place first in..."
One student raised his hand.
Oh for God's sake. It's in the name! Okay, let's see... anyone who isn't Luiz.
Thankfully, another student raised his hand. One that didn't answer the majority of Dr. da Silva's questions.
"Yes. Joao."
"China?"
"Exactly. What happened in China was that the democratic Chinese Revolution led to uprisings in neighboring countries such as Japan, Korea, and Siam; all of these revolutions also pushed for similar rights in their own countries. Then these countries, as well as China, inspired even more movements in India, the Philippines, Indonesia, Burma, and Indochina, all of which are following in the footsteps of China and the 'Little Chinas,' as some academics call them."
Another hand shot up. This time, it was Aristides, one of the more-quiet students.
"Aristides?"
"If China is the origin of the 'China Effect' in Asia... What is the source of the China Effect in the Americas?"
"I'm glad you asked," the professor said, with as much zeal as anyone who spent enough years working towards a doctorate would. "There are four origins."
"The first is Gran Colombia. Or rather, Colombia itself. Having elected a Liberal government, it provided a base of Radicalism in the north of South America that allowed it to spread to its neighbors in Venezuela and Ecuador. This movement, which dates back to previous decades, inspired similar electoral successes in Ecuador, as well as a military coup in Venezuela that led to the three Radical Liberal countries re-forming Gran Colombia. This in turn inspired the overthrow of President Augusto Leguia in Peru, which in turn inspired the overthrowing of Bautista Saavedra in Bolivia."
Though I doubt that Peru and Bolivia will reunite anytime soon.
"The second would be Argentina, whose Radical Civic Union inspired the Radicals in Chile, who came to power after the 'Nitrate Crash' sent the nitrate-reliant Chilean economy into an economic spiral. In a broad twist of fate, the Chilean Radicals would inspire their Argentinian neighbors to elect Marcelo Torcuato de Alvear and mobilize against the Patriotic League's attempted coup."
Joao raised his hand again.
"Yes, Joao?"
"Exactly how deep were these connections, professor? The Gran Colombians all have been working towards this goal for years, but is there a similar connection between Chile and Argentina?"
"Not exactly, Joao. While the Liberals in Gran Colombia ultimately worked towards re-forming Gran Colombia, the Radicals of Argentina and Chile mainly shared resources at most. Their alliance was largely-ideological, rather than nationalistic."
"I see..."
"Does that answer your question?" Joao nodded. "Okay then. Well, the third source is Brazil. President Dias Lopes' Revolutionary Alliance was inspired by the Chinese Tongmenghui's success in the Chinese Revolution. This revolution, which brought democratization, reform, and an end to Milk Coffee politics as we know it. Just as China inspired revolution in Siam and reform Japan, the Revolutionary Alliance's success would inspire the Febrerista Revolution in Paraguay and the continued rise of Batillismo over Riverismo in the Colorado Party in Uraguay."
To this, his students seemed to nod. Now, Pedro didn't know if this was because they were listening, or they just wanted the lesson to be over, but it was a simple enough concept. Just as China inspired revolution in Siam and reform in Japan, so did Brazil in Paraguay and Uruguay, respectively.
"Professor?" Pedro turned to see Luiz raising his hand. As much as Dr. da Silva was hesitant to call on him, it was less to do with any dislike of the young man. If anything, Pedro saw him as a protege.
Protege or not, he couldn't one student answer all his questions.
"If all of these countries are either the source or the result of the China Effect, that doesn't leave any country in South America."
"That is true, Luiz."
"Short of Guyana being the fourth origin of the China Effect in South America, I don't know what other country could be considered."
"Well," da Silva chuckled, "I can tell you for sure that Guyana is not the fourth origin."
"Of course, Professor. But if not them, then who?"
"Well, if the Revolutionary Alliance here in Brazil is what inspired Paraguay and Uruguay's turn towards Radicalism, which country inspired the Revolutionary Alliance?"
"...China?"
"Yes."
SInoRail Headquarters, Taipei, Taiwan, Republic of China, 25 August 1929
"General-"
"I'm not a general anymore, Chiu," Michael turned his former subordinate. "You don't have to call me that, anymore."
"Well what do I call you, then? Because right now, you're my boss, and you're the one person here who will listen to us."
He's right, isn't he?
Goddammit.
I swear, half the reason I took this job was so I wouldn't keep getting dragged into things. And where does that leave me?
Getting dragged into a labor dispute. Great.
It was a simple enough issue, now that he thought about it. The workers weren't happy with pay and safety conditions and... well, Michael had to give them that. These were people working for hours in a tunnel, and there were all sorts of risks that came with that.
Seriously, who was the idiot who didn't give them hard hats? I'm going to kick their ass if I find them.
That, including one work incident too far that sent a worker to the hospital, led to a call to unionize. And with corporations being corporations... Well, it was no surprise that the Board of Directors didn't want that.
"So, what do you want me to do? Bring it to the board? I'm outnumbered."
"They'll listen to you," Chiu insisted. "If nothing else, they can't exactly fire a war hero."
"I'd lose what standing I have, Chiu. Then we're even more in the hole. Look, you know I sympathize with you guys, but unless Nanjing steps in, we're going to be SOL."
Presidential Palace, Nanjing, Jiangsu, Republic of China, 26 August 1929
Wang Zhaoming was still getting used to the office. Sure, there were calls of "Hanjian" towards him, but those tended to be from rivals and those on their way out.
Still, it was "Hanjian this," and "Hanjian that."
Honestly, they need to come up with something else, now that it turns out most people don't care.
"We're doing this, right?" his Chief of Staff, Chen Gongbo asked him. "As a state-owned company, SinoRail is under our jurisdiction, and our allies are in the labor movement."
"That is all well and good, Chen," the new President told him, "But the plan involves digging up dirt on the Board of Directors from my time as Minister of Finance and effectively blackmailing them into allowing the rail workers to unionize. Which is illegal, I might add."
"It's not illegal to just release the information, is it?"
"No, it wouldn't," Wang admitted. "It wouldn't be the first time we used transparency to remove somebody from office for corruption. Unfortunately, that would leave us without almost half the Board of Directors, including the chairman."
"It's not as if we're running out of competent civil servants, Wang. As President, you have the last word when it comes to selection. Plus, I can already think of a qualified candidate who is a proven leader when it comes to on-the-spot promotions..."
"Or I could just give an executive order, Chen. Most of these cases are circumstantial, at best, and we don't need to fire half the Board of Directors."
That, and I doubt Michael Chen would want to be kicked upstairs for the umpteenth time.
It was a common occurrence in the aftermath of the Revolution. Revolutionaries, soldiers, and even Tongmenghui members including Wang himself were thrust into all sorts of responsibilities. It was Sink or Swim, with the incompetent sinking and being replaced by those who could at least tread water.
It led to very competent men quickly rising through the ranks. One need only look at Martin Li rising to Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau, or Michael Chen rising from Captain to General of the 6th Marine Division. Wang would like to think that he also qualified, but he would be the first to admit to being biased.
Brussels, Benelux Union, 5 September 1929
If he didn't know better, Paul-Henri Charles Spaak would have thought that the war had never come to this city.
Well, he would have, had he not fought here half a decade ago with the International Brigades. Yet here he was, in a rebuilt city in a new country that he had to govern.
It wasn't as if the French had much of a choice. Sure, they could have done a military government in-perpetuity, but that would anathema to everything the French had stood for as Radicals and Socialists.
Over time, the powers would be returned to the locals. First at the local level, and then at the national. Spaak had been in the former group, by virtue of being the right man in the right place at the right time. He was a socialist Belgian from Brussels, and they needed a socialist Belgian from Brussels to be the city's mayor.
The fact that he was the nephew of President Paul-Emile Janson certainly didn't hurt things. If anything, it helped bridge the gap between the Liberals and Labour that needed every bit of legitimacy they could get their hands on.
Which, if he was being honest, they were doing decently, for the most part. While yes, there were issues like repatriation, the fact remained that they had the diplomatic support of France and the economic support of China. That alone was enough to get Belgium- No, the Benelux back on their feet despite having to repatriate thousands of Belgians from the colonies.
That was all a few years ago, when Brussels was still somewhat-bombed out. These days, the city looked as if nothing had changed but the new flag and the abdication of the old King.
Hopefully, the war would be a thing in the past, so that the Union, as well as Europe as a whole, could look towards the future.
League Park, Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America, 28 September 1929
"Second isn't bad," he admitted. And as a former player, he knew better than most. "It still stings, though."
"Ray," his wife told him, "You've been out of the game for almost a decade."
"I know, I know. I finished it off with a World Series win and everything, but that doesn't mean I can't root for my old team, Katie."
"I've noticed. So have Junior and Kat."
That went without saying when he'd bring his family to every game he could. His family had the money for it, so why wouldn't he bring them along for a game now and then... or every week?
It was a game he loved, and this was how he could share it with the family he treasured so dearly.
Then again, he figured that most people would've felt the same way if they too had cheated the Reaper at least once, and he was no exception.
There's no way around it. I cheated death and won a World Series.
And that's before I met my children.
Okay, if he was being completely honest, him wearing a helmet was what had saved him, but he was only wearing a helmet in the first place because an island had traveled back in time.
He didn't believe it at first. If anything, he thought it was some sort of snake-oil bullshit some Uptimer was trying to sell to him and all the other players. The salesmen were insistent, though, and the Commission made the helmets mandatory.
A few years and a pitch to the head later, and Chapman had changed his mind. On that August day at the Polo Grounds, he faced off against Carl Mays, who plunked him right in the head. Next thing he knew, Chapman was on the ground, with his helmet in the dirt beside him.
He'd be out for the game, but he knew full well it was better than dying the next day and leaving Katie a widow.
There was no way around it: That helmet, which still sat proudly atop their fireplace, had given him a new lease on life that he intended to live to its fullest.
Even if his Cleveland Naps might need another twenty years to win the World Series.
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Don't know who is the guy in the last POV ?
p/s:
Just noticed this video right now
Although the video speed up quite a bit to show us, this is still a interesting engineering design that doesn't need complex tech, costly or similar (just need someone find inspiration from certain plant then try to make a more efficiency version)
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HW_aFK2zzY
p/s:
Just noticed this video right now
Although the video speed up quite a bit to show us, this is still a interesting engineering design that doesn't need complex tech, costly or similar (just need someone find inspiration from certain plant then try to make a more efficiency version)
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HW_aFK2zzY
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Ray Chapman was a baseball player who died OTL from being hit in the head with a pitch.
So through a literal Act of God (for lack of a better term), he ended up surviving since the MLB started issuing helmets.
It's a minor thing, but he ended up surviving because of that.
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'll need to write a full section on this, but there is a decent change America embraces green technology earlier.
That's good.
The catch is that some of them do it because they don't want to be beholden to foreigners who control most of the world's oil supply. Which might come form a place of xenophobia.
Which is simultaneously bad and really funny.
That's good.
The catch is that some of them do it because they don't want to be beholden to foreigners who control most of the world's oil supply. Which might come form a place of xenophobia.
Which is simultaneously bad and really funny.
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Any update on what is going to happen to Singapore?
- Location
- San Francisco
Additionally, the terror of instant ramen must now descend upon dry goods markets everywhere. In fact, the existence of instant foods of any kind is going to lead to some hard questions about health and food quality. In many ways, the food and drink of the future is both better and worse than what we used to have…
Hilarious show: downtimers eat uptimer snacks.
"Cheeseits? Friend, all I taste is salt. And you sure that wasn't a candle? What did you call it? A pop-tart?"
Also, for the love of god, regulate those fucking antibiotics.
Hilarious show: downtimers eat uptimer snacks.
"Cheeseits? Friend, all I taste is salt. And you sure that wasn't a candle? What did you call it? A pop-tart?"
Also, for the love of god, regulate those fucking antibiotics.
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Yeah, better nip the bud soon so we don't have "It's Raining Antibiotic Resistant Bacteria" situation later on.
And that could give more chapter idea for 'misunderstand' situation when it come to some product and prank here ?
Edit: for more idea about misunderstand thing, how about some dude of Downtimer try to use some method on the internet just to get backfire hilariously or messy here ? (after all there are lot of contradict information on the internet, and there are such thing as too many information).
Also I noticed this video here about possible method that work for create certain nearly extinct animal back
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdS9sY983rU
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Chapter 68: Multiple Points of Divergence
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Riyadh, Emirate of Jabal Shammar, 1 October 1929
Oil was... well, it was the only business they really had here. Mecca had the Hajj, of course, but there weren't exactly any pilgrims coming in to the middle of the Arabian Peninsula.
Which left them with the oil that the Chinese had so "graciously" located for them... for a cut of the benefits, of course.
That, of course, was something that Talal could understand. Oil was an important resource for the modern machines, and the Chinese obviously wanted to secure it for themselves.
What he didn't understand was why they were doing that while also investing heavily in public transportation, alternative fuels, electric vehicles, and powering their entire country with nuclear power.
"It's in their interests," his brother Ali told him during their lunch. "Just as it is in our interests to eventually be reliant on resources that aren't oil."
"That I get," Talal admitted. It made enough sense to him, even if it stung a bit. They worked in the oil industry, after all.
Well, his brother was. Talal had just been hired as his brother's secretary.
"So much for 'Prosperity for All.'"
"I wouldn't go that far," Ali insisted. "After all, the Chinese have been rather... generous? I guess that's the right word to describe this."
"I'm flattered," Talal spoke, his tone oozing with sarcasm. "But I guess it makes sense. They want us to prosper, but they also don't want to be reliant on us."
"More or less. We- Well, we and our friends over in Constantinople, control so much of the world's oil and natural gas supply. People need oil and natural gas. That gives us a a lot of power over a lot of otherwise-powerful people. Enough to manipulate an entire market."
"Isn't that what Standard Oil tried to do, back in the day?" His brother nodded. "Ah. Then yes, I can see why they want to avoid that."
"Indeed. Meanwhile, just as they are reliant on us for our raw resources, we are reliant on them for... well, basically everything else that isn't fish or the Hajj."
"Which is why we would want to develop our own economy, so that we don't succumb to the... what was it? 'Danish Disease?'"
"'Dutch Disease,' brother. It turns out making your entire economy reliant on a single resource isn't exactly good for long-term growth. That is why so much of our money goes into education and industry. That way, we don't become overly-dependent on the Chinese, either."
"You mean the same people who are coming up with all sorts of inventions that are decades ahead of us. I don't think we'll ever catch up to them."
"Probably not," Ali figured. Much as Talal hated to admit it, he knew that the Chinese probably had a long-term advantage they didn't plan on giving up anytime soon. "But we can minimize our dependence on them. Better that than a... what was the term? 'One-trick-pony?'"
"Something like that. I guess that explains all the madrasas all over the place."
"Oh that? Rumor has it that's because the Sultan's terrified of jihadists," Ali chuckled. "Apparently, they were very influential in the Lost History."
Talal couldn't believe it. "He doesn't seem terrified."
"Perhaps 'Terrified,' isn't the right word, but he sees them as a threat to his power. And if that means spending good money on building schools all over the Muslim world, then so be it."
The Red Fort, Delhi, Republic of India, 20 October 1929
Minister Vikram Singh knew economics.
Sure, knowing how to run a business didn't necessarily translate to knowing how to run an economy, but he'd studied economics at the University of Calcutta. Contrary to his success in business (though he would be the first to admit that he largely-succeeded due to the Swadeshi movement and an island being sent back in time), economics was his specialty.
Economics had a sort of reputation of being "amoral." Not in the sense of it being malicious, but that it simply didn't care about morality. Practicality ruled the day, and it had ever since Adam Smith had started writing on the subject.
Truth be told, Vikram didn't like that.
While yes, he treated his employees well because they had a certain set of skills and efficiency that would be lost if he tried to wring every last rupee out of them, but the fact remained that he would feel like shit if he did that.
There was no better way to put it than to say that he wanted to do right by his employees. His factories were simply a means towards that end that also provided people with a desirable good in high demand due to a boycott on British goods.
It was this kind of mindset that he carried into his position as Minister of Finance of the Republic of India. It was that same desire on a country-wide level.
It was what got him up in the morning, and it was what had affected every single decision he'd made about every single rupee invested into the Indian economy. Be it reconstruction, infrastructure, or modernization, he had run as tight a ship as possible to ensure that his country would be on the path towards the same prosperity that their northeastern neighbors had traveled.
And if his papers were to be believed... it worked.
No, that would be an understatement. "It worked" implies that we managed to right the ship.
"It worked," pales in comparison to the irrigation, crops, and mechanization we have invested in.
"It worked," glosses over how millions now live their lives with electricity and education that their parents had been denied.
"It worked," ignores the thousands, if not millions, of people who are alive today because we spent every rupee we had, be it from business or aid, on making the lives of our people better. Mothers and babies are alive today because we funded hospitals and started training doctors to lower infant mortality. Children and fathers are alive today because we invested in mechanized agriculture so our people wouldn't starve to death.
No, we aren't in the twenty-first century. There are still people who are starving, adults who are illiterate, and mothers and babies who died unnecessarily.
We are not the India or Pakistan or Bengal of the twenty-first century. But if we keep this up, we'll be better-off than they were, by the time we get there.
It was a bold thing to think, and he knew things could go wrong.
Hindu-Muslim tensions could escalate once more, and the Indian identity they'd worked so hard to build during the Great War could fall apart.
There was still the issue of the caste system, though many of the more progressives were fighting it as backward, just as the Chinese treated the monarchy they'd overthrown.
Those, as well as a thousand other problems, could tear India apart at the seams, and he might not be able to do anything to stop it.
But if he did his job, and India was lucky enough this time around, he'd be able to help India be a better place in the world.
That's what they were all here for at the end of the day, wasn't it? To make India a better place?
Then again, that's what they've been doing since day one, and that was before their own Green Revolution.
Singapore, Provisional Republic of Singapore, 1 November 1929
Kenneth Ma was not a politician. He was a soldier, and he'd like to think that he was a good one at that.
At least he had been, before Singapore had become independent of the British at the end of the Great War. After that, well, Singapore needed a whole lot more than soldiers, and he'd used what education he had to help out where he could.
Which was how he ended up here, teaching General Education at a secondary school.
It was a change of pace, but the pay was good enough, and it wasn't like he hadn't dealt with young adults before. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't that different from training people to fight, but that might just be the inner-teacher in him.
"So," he asked his class, "What do you think will happen?"
The class was silent, until one student raised his hand.
"Come again, sir?"
"What do you think will happen," Kenny reiterated, "to our country? Will we be independent, join Malaya, or join China? Come now, this is an open discussion for you all, so speak freely."
One of his students raised his hand.
"Yes, Desmond?"
"I-I think we could join Malaya," the first student offered. He sounded nervous, but the boy was finding his voice as he continued. "We are closest to them, and we do need them for water and food."
"Good points," Kenny told his pupil, and the boy sat down. "Does anyone have a different opinion?"
Another student, one Henry Wong, raised his hand, and Kenny motioned to him.
"I think we could join China. After all, most of us are ethnically Chinese, and China is the world's most powerful country in terms of raw strength and economic power. If we did that, Singapore could turn into another Hong Kong or Shanghai in less than a decade."
"And the issue of food and water?" Kenny asked in his professorial tone. "What about those?"
"While it would be costly, I believe we could expand our water treatment facilities and import food."
"Both good points," the teacher conceded. Honestly, he was just happy that his students were finally getting engaged with the subject matter. "Now, does anyone want to advocate for the "Complete Independence" position?"
One more student raised his hand.
"Okay, Joseph. Your turn."
"We are at the mouth of the Strait of Malacca, are we not?" Joseph Yen asked rhetorically. "We are a trade hub, plain and simple. Our geographic position on its own gives us the means to become an economic power when it comes to trade, transportation, and finance by virtue of almost all of the trade going through the strait having to stop by here."
"Ships will come here for maintenance," he continued, "Merchants will come here to buy and sell goods. These two will bring businesses- or rather, bring more businesses here. Not to mention how far we are from China and how different we are from Malaya. These three things: our Distance, our Position, and our Economic Potential give us a unique set of circumstances that allow such a small island as ours to assets our independence."
Kenny nodded once more, and then turned to the rest of the class. "These three arguments all bring up very valid points about our country as we move towards the upcoming referendum. Now, I want you all to split yourselves into three groups, because you will all be debating this subject next week."
Marseilles Gaming Hall, Marseilles, France, 29 November 1929
"Tyrans a simple enough game, Pierre," his sister told him, before motioning to his board. "Henri and I will be playing as the revolutionaries. You're the imperialistic-monarchistic-dictatorial-racist mercenary faction that occupies the territory that I'm trying to liberate."
"Why do I have to be the imperialists, Elise?" the teenager complained. "You got to play the rebels last time!"
"Last time, I was the mercenaries," Henri groaned. As much as he was the elder brother, even he was starting to lose patience. "Elise will be the mercenary player the next turn."
"...Fine. So, how do we play this again?"
"Okay, you have your tokens on your side that show which side is controlled by a district. We have ours. You have your units all over the place; we have our outnumbered... somewhere. We try to takeover the map, while you try to eliminate our units through attacks. Got it?"
"Okay..." the youngest of the Bonnet siblings said. "And we can attack each other to try to take over parts of the map, right?"
"Right."
"Okay... Wait, isn't this basically Risk with guerrilla warfare and a lot of pieces?"
"...Yes." Henri had to give his little brother that. "Plus a lot of pieces to show who controls which side."
Like most games Henri played, everything was printed out. It didn't matter if it was the pieces, the two game boards, or anything else. After all, it was a whole lot cheaper to do than an entire game box, let alone wooden pieces.
"Democratizing board games," was how Mr. Laurent had called the phenomenon, and he was the one who had come up with Tyrans, along with so many other games that his siblings had played at the gaming hall.
Like most patrons young and old, they simply walked in, requested a table, and printed out a copy of a game at the computers before bringing it back to their table. When they were finally finished, they'd be given an envelope to pack their printed out board and pieces to bring home and back, if they wanted to play again.
Between this and the role-playing games that other people were interested in (though the three Bonnet siblings found the learning curve a bit daunting), there was now a viable alternative to the gambling. They knew it, but more importantly Paris knew it.
It was hardly a surprise in hindsight. Gambling was, quite possibly, one of the least-proletarian concepts known to man. While the average wager between friends was one thing, casinos and gambling halls that were explicitly-designed to part honest workers from their hard-earned money.
The alternatives were... well, they were underwhelming, to say the least. The Lost History's Prohibition had left a sour taste in outright bans, with several Radicals and Socialists both arguing that it would simply create a "Black Market" and empower organized crime.
No, there needed to be a cultural shift, and printed games provided a viable alternative for younger adults to have fun without the exploitation inherent in a casino. A few test runs were done in Bordeaux, and an otherwise-bored populace flocked to these newfound hangouts.
The good food and drink definitely help as well.
Was it a complete alternative to gambling? Not exactly. Not when there were all sorts of card games played in the same gaming halls (albeit with hall-provided chips that could be exchanged for rewards, rather than real money).
Henri didn't mind too much. The Bonnet family had never had the money for casinos in the first place, and their father had always told them they were scams.
But gaming halls? When the cost of admission was zero (thanks to state-sponsored funding), these places were truly capable of being fun for the whole family.
Once his younger siblings stopped arguing over the rules, anyways.
Book Review: The Eastern Journey, by J.R.R. Tolkien
By Christopher della Providenzza
In the wake of the Great Journey, there were few who had greater expectations for themselves than one John Roald Reul Tolkien. The author, who had been quite surprised at the work that his Lost History self had bequeathed to him, had expressed his interest in expanding upon the world where his other self had left off.
The Eastern Journey utilizes the existing lore of Tolkien's Lost History self as a foundation for another journey, with the main characters being the Blue Wizards mentioned in Tolkien's later writings, with a particular influence from Tolkien's writings near the end of his life.
Our story begins with the two Blue Wizards, Alatar and Pallando, as they convene with Sarumanm Gandalf, and Radagast to discuss the rumors of Men who had rejected Melkor-worship. Seeing the potential in these people, the five agree to send the trio of Saruman, Pallando, and Alatar eastwards to investigate such an affair and, if possible, use them to divert Saruman's resources.
The journey is long and full of trials and tribulations, be it horse archers, bandits, warlord armies, or even some exiled Dwarves. These are hardly any physical challenge for the three powerful wizards, though Saruman slow descent into arrogance, pride, and a lust for power becomes more-evident to the reader and his companions, as well as a source of conflict between the three companions.
Just when it seems that the three would come to blows, they find what they were looking for. Deep in the eastern land of Rhûn is a community of Easterlings who rejected Melkor and allied with the Dwarves that has managed to fight their still-corrupted brethren to a standstill.
It is this discovery that leads to the ultimate conflict between the three wizards, as while Alatar and Pallando see much potential in these Easterlings and their Dwarven allies, Saruman sees them as little more than a brief distraction for Sauron. In this, the three have an argument, though they come to the agreement that Saruman will return to the west while Pallando and Alatar remain in Rhûn to assist their newfound allies.
With the combination of the Wizards' knowledge, the Dwarves' craftmanship, and the Men's freedom, the unlikely alliance had gone from a hodgepodge of stragglers to an ever-growing force that would conquer one Easterling warlord after another, freeing countless of their fellow Men from the corruption of Melkor.
This is where the story ends for now, with a newly-christened "Far Eastern Kingdom" formed as an ever-brighter light fighting against the darkness that seeks to extinguish it.
While many would point to the similarities between this eastern kingdom and the Chinese Revolution, I will not be doing that. Besides how it would be intellectually-dishonest to project an allegory where Tolkien said there is not, there is a more-interesting concept that many seemed to have overlooked.
To put it bluntly, Tolkien has written a story that is not just about good and evil, but about potential and fallibility. One need only look at the characters and how they interact with one another, as well as how they perceive the world around them, to notice this.
Saruman is the prime example of this. While he is one of the five most-powerful and most-knowledgeable beings in Middle Earth (which he believes makes him "Better" than the Dwarves, Men, and even his own companions), these two strengths contribute to his pride, arrogance, and later lust for power as well. While he doesn't outright succumb to worshiping Melkor like so many of the corrupted Easterlings, and he doesn't have the overwhelming greed or lust for gold like the Dwarven exiles, the fact remains that he is also fallible and corruptible in his own ways.
Contrast this with the "lesser" people Saruman compares himself to: the Dwarves and Men. While there are Dwarves who are overcome with lust for gold and greed, there are also those who channeled those vices into a vibrant economy and a culture that fostered craftsmanship. And for all of the Men who worship Melkor, there are those who mustered the courage and fortitude to turn away from his corrupting force.
The irony that a powerful wizard is falling to the shortcomings that he refuses to acknowledge, yet the "lesser" Men and Dwarves are able to overcome their shortcomings is not lost upon the reader nor the characters in the story (except for perhaps Saruman himself).
Nor should it.
While Tolkien being a bit black-and-white may be par for the course, the wisdom in this narrative regarding our shared fallibility (as well as our ability of rise above it) is something that everyone should be able to take away from this.
Just as this Tolkien is worthy of his own legacy and reputation, The Eastern Journey is worthy of being part of Tolkien's canon.
Overall Rating:
Five Self-Acknowledging Fallible Beings out of Five
Oil was... well, it was the only business they really had here. Mecca had the Hajj, of course, but there weren't exactly any pilgrims coming in to the middle of the Arabian Peninsula.
Which left them with the oil that the Chinese had so "graciously" located for them... for a cut of the benefits, of course.
That, of course, was something that Talal could understand. Oil was an important resource for the modern machines, and the Chinese obviously wanted to secure it for themselves.
What he didn't understand was why they were doing that while also investing heavily in public transportation, alternative fuels, electric vehicles, and powering their entire country with nuclear power.
"It's in their interests," his brother Ali told him during their lunch. "Just as it is in our interests to eventually be reliant on resources that aren't oil."
"That I get," Talal admitted. It made enough sense to him, even if it stung a bit. They worked in the oil industry, after all.
Well, his brother was. Talal had just been hired as his brother's secretary.
"So much for 'Prosperity for All.'"
"I wouldn't go that far," Ali insisted. "After all, the Chinese have been rather... generous? I guess that's the right word to describe this."
"I'm flattered," Talal spoke, his tone oozing with sarcasm. "But I guess it makes sense. They want us to prosper, but they also don't want to be reliant on us."
"More or less. We- Well, we and our friends over in Constantinople, control so much of the world's oil and natural gas supply. People need oil and natural gas. That gives us a a lot of power over a lot of otherwise-powerful people. Enough to manipulate an entire market."
"Isn't that what Standard Oil tried to do, back in the day?" His brother nodded. "Ah. Then yes, I can see why they want to avoid that."
"Indeed. Meanwhile, just as they are reliant on us for our raw resources, we are reliant on them for... well, basically everything else that isn't fish or the Hajj."
"Which is why we would want to develop our own economy, so that we don't succumb to the... what was it? 'Danish Disease?'"
"'Dutch Disease,' brother. It turns out making your entire economy reliant on a single resource isn't exactly good for long-term growth. That is why so much of our money goes into education and industry. That way, we don't become overly-dependent on the Chinese, either."
"You mean the same people who are coming up with all sorts of inventions that are decades ahead of us. I don't think we'll ever catch up to them."
"Probably not," Ali figured. Much as Talal hated to admit it, he knew that the Chinese probably had a long-term advantage they didn't plan on giving up anytime soon. "But we can minimize our dependence on them. Better that than a... what was the term? 'One-trick-pony?'"
"Something like that. I guess that explains all the madrasas all over the place."
"Oh that? Rumor has it that's because the Sultan's terrified of jihadists," Ali chuckled. "Apparently, they were very influential in the Lost History."
Talal couldn't believe it. "He doesn't seem terrified."
"Perhaps 'Terrified,' isn't the right word, but he sees them as a threat to his power. And if that means spending good money on building schools all over the Muslim world, then so be it."
The Red Fort, Delhi, Republic of India, 20 October 1929
Minister Vikram Singh knew economics.
Sure, knowing how to run a business didn't necessarily translate to knowing how to run an economy, but he'd studied economics at the University of Calcutta. Contrary to his success in business (though he would be the first to admit that he largely-succeeded due to the Swadeshi movement and an island being sent back in time), economics was his specialty.
Economics had a sort of reputation of being "amoral." Not in the sense of it being malicious, but that it simply didn't care about morality. Practicality ruled the day, and it had ever since Adam Smith had started writing on the subject.
Truth be told, Vikram didn't like that.
While yes, he treated his employees well because they had a certain set of skills and efficiency that would be lost if he tried to wring every last rupee out of them, but the fact remained that he would feel like shit if he did that.
There was no better way to put it than to say that he wanted to do right by his employees. His factories were simply a means towards that end that also provided people with a desirable good in high demand due to a boycott on British goods.
It was this kind of mindset that he carried into his position as Minister of Finance of the Republic of India. It was that same desire on a country-wide level.
It was what got him up in the morning, and it was what had affected every single decision he'd made about every single rupee invested into the Indian economy. Be it reconstruction, infrastructure, or modernization, he had run as tight a ship as possible to ensure that his country would be on the path towards the same prosperity that their northeastern neighbors had traveled.
And if his papers were to be believed... it worked.
No, that would be an understatement. "It worked" implies that we managed to right the ship.
"It worked," pales in comparison to the irrigation, crops, and mechanization we have invested in.
"It worked," glosses over how millions now live their lives with electricity and education that their parents had been denied.
"It worked," ignores the thousands, if not millions, of people who are alive today because we spent every rupee we had, be it from business or aid, on making the lives of our people better. Mothers and babies are alive today because we funded hospitals and started training doctors to lower infant mortality. Children and fathers are alive today because we invested in mechanized agriculture so our people wouldn't starve to death.
No, we aren't in the twenty-first century. There are still people who are starving, adults who are illiterate, and mothers and babies who died unnecessarily.
We are not the India or Pakistan or Bengal of the twenty-first century. But if we keep this up, we'll be better-off than they were, by the time we get there.
It was a bold thing to think, and he knew things could go wrong.
Hindu-Muslim tensions could escalate once more, and the Indian identity they'd worked so hard to build during the Great War could fall apart.
There was still the issue of the caste system, though many of the more progressives were fighting it as backward, just as the Chinese treated the monarchy they'd overthrown.
Those, as well as a thousand other problems, could tear India apart at the seams, and he might not be able to do anything to stop it.
But if he did his job, and India was lucky enough this time around, he'd be able to help India be a better place in the world.
That's what they were all here for at the end of the day, wasn't it? To make India a better place?
Then again, that's what they've been doing since day one, and that was before their own Green Revolution.
Singapore, Provisional Republic of Singapore, 1 November 1929
Kenneth Ma was not a politician. He was a soldier, and he'd like to think that he was a good one at that.
At least he had been, before Singapore had become independent of the British at the end of the Great War. After that, well, Singapore needed a whole lot more than soldiers, and he'd used what education he had to help out where he could.
Which was how he ended up here, teaching General Education at a secondary school.
It was a change of pace, but the pay was good enough, and it wasn't like he hadn't dealt with young adults before. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't that different from training people to fight, but that might just be the inner-teacher in him.
"So," he asked his class, "What do you think will happen?"
The class was silent, until one student raised his hand.
"Come again, sir?"
"What do you think will happen," Kenny reiterated, "to our country? Will we be independent, join Malaya, or join China? Come now, this is an open discussion for you all, so speak freely."
One of his students raised his hand.
"Yes, Desmond?"
"I-I think we could join Malaya," the first student offered. He sounded nervous, but the boy was finding his voice as he continued. "We are closest to them, and we do need them for water and food."
"Good points," Kenny told his pupil, and the boy sat down. "Does anyone have a different opinion?"
Another student, one Henry Wong, raised his hand, and Kenny motioned to him.
"I think we could join China. After all, most of us are ethnically Chinese, and China is the world's most powerful country in terms of raw strength and economic power. If we did that, Singapore could turn into another Hong Kong or Shanghai in less than a decade."
"And the issue of food and water?" Kenny asked in his professorial tone. "What about those?"
"While it would be costly, I believe we could expand our water treatment facilities and import food."
"Both good points," the teacher conceded. Honestly, he was just happy that his students were finally getting engaged with the subject matter. "Now, does anyone want to advocate for the "Complete Independence" position?"
One more student raised his hand.
"Okay, Joseph. Your turn."
"We are at the mouth of the Strait of Malacca, are we not?" Joseph Yen asked rhetorically. "We are a trade hub, plain and simple. Our geographic position on its own gives us the means to become an economic power when it comes to trade, transportation, and finance by virtue of almost all of the trade going through the strait having to stop by here."
"Ships will come here for maintenance," he continued, "Merchants will come here to buy and sell goods. These two will bring businesses- or rather, bring more businesses here. Not to mention how far we are from China and how different we are from Malaya. These three things: our Distance, our Position, and our Economic Potential give us a unique set of circumstances that allow such a small island as ours to assets our independence."
Kenny nodded once more, and then turned to the rest of the class. "These three arguments all bring up very valid points about our country as we move towards the upcoming referendum. Now, I want you all to split yourselves into three groups, because you will all be debating this subject next week."
Marseilles Gaming Hall, Marseilles, France, 29 November 1929
"Tyrans a simple enough game, Pierre," his sister told him, before motioning to his board. "Henri and I will be playing as the revolutionaries. You're the imperialistic-monarchistic-dictatorial-racist mercenary faction that occupies the territory that I'm trying to liberate."
"Why do I have to be the imperialists, Elise?" the teenager complained. "You got to play the rebels last time!"
"Last time, I was the mercenaries," Henri groaned. As much as he was the elder brother, even he was starting to lose patience. "Elise will be the mercenary player the next turn."
"...Fine. So, how do we play this again?"
"Okay, you have your tokens on your side that show which side is controlled by a district. We have ours. You have your units all over the place; we have our outnumbered... somewhere. We try to takeover the map, while you try to eliminate our units through attacks. Got it?"
"Okay..." the youngest of the Bonnet siblings said. "And we can attack each other to try to take over parts of the map, right?"
"Right."
"Okay... Wait, isn't this basically Risk with guerrilla warfare and a lot of pieces?"
"...Yes." Henri had to give his little brother that. "Plus a lot of pieces to show who controls which side."
Like most games Henri played, everything was printed out. It didn't matter if it was the pieces, the two game boards, or anything else. After all, it was a whole lot cheaper to do than an entire game box, let alone wooden pieces.
"Democratizing board games," was how Mr. Laurent had called the phenomenon, and he was the one who had come up with Tyrans, along with so many other games that his siblings had played at the gaming hall.
Like most patrons young and old, they simply walked in, requested a table, and printed out a copy of a game at the computers before bringing it back to their table. When they were finally finished, they'd be given an envelope to pack their printed out board and pieces to bring home and back, if they wanted to play again.
Between this and the role-playing games that other people were interested in (though the three Bonnet siblings found the learning curve a bit daunting), there was now a viable alternative to the gambling. They knew it, but more importantly Paris knew it.
It was hardly a surprise in hindsight. Gambling was, quite possibly, one of the least-proletarian concepts known to man. While the average wager between friends was one thing, casinos and gambling halls that were explicitly-designed to part honest workers from their hard-earned money.
The alternatives were... well, they were underwhelming, to say the least. The Lost History's Prohibition had left a sour taste in outright bans, with several Radicals and Socialists both arguing that it would simply create a "Black Market" and empower organized crime.
No, there needed to be a cultural shift, and printed games provided a viable alternative for younger adults to have fun without the exploitation inherent in a casino. A few test runs were done in Bordeaux, and an otherwise-bored populace flocked to these newfound hangouts.
The good food and drink definitely help as well.
Was it a complete alternative to gambling? Not exactly. Not when there were all sorts of card games played in the same gaming halls (albeit with hall-provided chips that could be exchanged for rewards, rather than real money).
Henri didn't mind too much. The Bonnet family had never had the money for casinos in the first place, and their father had always told them they were scams.
But gaming halls? When the cost of admission was zero (thanks to state-sponsored funding), these places were truly capable of being fun for the whole family.
Once his younger siblings stopped arguing over the rules, anyways.
Book Review: The Eastern Journey, by J.R.R. Tolkien
By Christopher della Providenzza
In the wake of the Great Journey, there were few who had greater expectations for themselves than one John Roald Reul Tolkien. The author, who had been quite surprised at the work that his Lost History self had bequeathed to him, had expressed his interest in expanding upon the world where his other self had left off.
The Eastern Journey utilizes the existing lore of Tolkien's Lost History self as a foundation for another journey, with the main characters being the Blue Wizards mentioned in Tolkien's later writings, with a particular influence from Tolkien's writings near the end of his life.
Our story begins with the two Blue Wizards, Alatar and Pallando, as they convene with Sarumanm Gandalf, and Radagast to discuss the rumors of Men who had rejected Melkor-worship. Seeing the potential in these people, the five agree to send the trio of Saruman, Pallando, and Alatar eastwards to investigate such an affair and, if possible, use them to divert Saruman's resources.
The journey is long and full of trials and tribulations, be it horse archers, bandits, warlord armies, or even some exiled Dwarves. These are hardly any physical challenge for the three powerful wizards, though Saruman slow descent into arrogance, pride, and a lust for power becomes more-evident to the reader and his companions, as well as a source of conflict between the three companions.
Just when it seems that the three would come to blows, they find what they were looking for. Deep in the eastern land of Rhûn is a community of Easterlings who rejected Melkor and allied with the Dwarves that has managed to fight their still-corrupted brethren to a standstill.
It is this discovery that leads to the ultimate conflict between the three wizards, as while Alatar and Pallando see much potential in these Easterlings and their Dwarven allies, Saruman sees them as little more than a brief distraction for Sauron. In this, the three have an argument, though they come to the agreement that Saruman will return to the west while Pallando and Alatar remain in Rhûn to assist their newfound allies.
With the combination of the Wizards' knowledge, the Dwarves' craftmanship, and the Men's freedom, the unlikely alliance had gone from a hodgepodge of stragglers to an ever-growing force that would conquer one Easterling warlord after another, freeing countless of their fellow Men from the corruption of Melkor.
This is where the story ends for now, with a newly-christened "Far Eastern Kingdom" formed as an ever-brighter light fighting against the darkness that seeks to extinguish it.
While many would point to the similarities between this eastern kingdom and the Chinese Revolution, I will not be doing that. Besides how it would be intellectually-dishonest to project an allegory where Tolkien said there is not, there is a more-interesting concept that many seemed to have overlooked.
To put it bluntly, Tolkien has written a story that is not just about good and evil, but about potential and fallibility. One need only look at the characters and how they interact with one another, as well as how they perceive the world around them, to notice this.
Saruman is the prime example of this. While he is one of the five most-powerful and most-knowledgeable beings in Middle Earth (which he believes makes him "Better" than the Dwarves, Men, and even his own companions), these two strengths contribute to his pride, arrogance, and later lust for power as well. While he doesn't outright succumb to worshiping Melkor like so many of the corrupted Easterlings, and he doesn't have the overwhelming greed or lust for gold like the Dwarven exiles, the fact remains that he is also fallible and corruptible in his own ways.
Contrast this with the "lesser" people Saruman compares himself to: the Dwarves and Men. While there are Dwarves who are overcome with lust for gold and greed, there are also those who channeled those vices into a vibrant economy and a culture that fostered craftsmanship. And for all of the Men who worship Melkor, there are those who mustered the courage and fortitude to turn away from his corrupting force.
The irony that a powerful wizard is falling to the shortcomings that he refuses to acknowledge, yet the "lesser" Men and Dwarves are able to overcome their shortcomings is not lost upon the reader nor the characters in the story (except for perhaps Saruman himself).
Nor should it.
While Tolkien being a bit black-and-white may be par for the course, the wisdom in this narrative regarding our shared fallibility (as well as our ability of rise above it) is something that everyone should be able to take away from this.
Just as this Tolkien is worthy of his own legacy and reputation, The Eastern Journey is worthy of being part of Tolkien's canon.
Overall Rating:
Five Self-Acknowledging Fallible Beings out of Five
- Location
- India
What is situation in Afghanistan?
Any changes due to Resurgence of Buddhism in India?
Who is indian Prime minister?
Any changes due to Resurgence of Buddhism in India?
Who is indian Prime minister?
Burying the Lead
ChrisProvidence
Time Traveling Unequal Treaty Destroyer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
When people think "Spy Agency," they usually think of James Bond, Jason Bourne, or Jack Bauer.
And yes, Director Martin Li did have people like that on his payroll. He used to be one of them.
But for every boots-on-the-ground agent and asset they had, they had many more analysts and experts doing the less-glamorous (for lack of a better term) work that came with analysis and expertise.
But for every operation there had to be a hundred different papers and analyses about every single subject that could be useful for intelligence-gathering.
Much of it was dry and analytical. These were reports, after all, not news media.
But there were always exceptions to the rule.
"What the fuck," the Director said, before reading over the paper. "No, seriously, what the fuck is going on in America?"
"The United States has a grassroots-driven campaign against leaded gasoline," Rachel told him. "It's surprisingly popular."
"No, I get that. What I don't get is that the campaign outright says, 'Leaded gas makes you live shorter and act stupider.'"
"It's a bit on the nose," she admitted, "But we have the data. We're probably indirectly-responsible for this being an issue in the first place."
"Yeah, I get that. I just didn't think that people would say that leaded gas makes you stupid and die faster."
"Well it's true, Marty. And for all the flaws of Downtime America, be it racism, corruption, greed, pseudoscience, and racism-"
"You said racism twice."
"Marty, it's America. In the twentieth century."
"Okay, fair. Think it'll work?"
"When it's supported by almost everyone in America who isn't financially invested in the oil industry? I think it stands a good chance."
And yes, Director Martin Li did have people like that on his payroll. He used to be one of them.
But for every boots-on-the-ground agent and asset they had, they had many more analysts and experts doing the less-glamorous (for lack of a better term) work that came with analysis and expertise.
But for every operation there had to be a hundred different papers and analyses about every single subject that could be useful for intelligence-gathering.
Much of it was dry and analytical. These were reports, after all, not news media.
But there were always exceptions to the rule.
"What the fuck," the Director said, before reading over the paper. "No, seriously, what the fuck is going on in America?"
"The United States has a grassroots-driven campaign against leaded gasoline," Rachel told him. "It's surprisingly popular."
"No, I get that. What I don't get is that the campaign outright says, 'Leaded gas makes you live shorter and act stupider.'"
"It's a bit on the nose," she admitted, "But we have the data. We're probably indirectly-responsible for this being an issue in the first place."
"Yeah, I get that. I just didn't think that people would say that leaded gas makes you stupid and die faster."
"Well it's true, Marty. And for all the flaws of Downtime America, be it racism, corruption, greed, pseudoscience, and racism-"
"You said racism twice."
"Marty, it's America. In the twentieth century."
"Okay, fair. Think it'll work?"
"When it's supported by almost everyone in America who isn't financially invested in the oil industry? I think it stands a good chance."
- Location
- Canada
Ah, yes; the bad work of Thomas Midgley Jr., the one man environmental disaster. With so many other historical figures rethinking their terrible mistakes, you'd think that he'd have been among them, considering that he poisoned himself repeatedly, became bedridden, and then killed himself. But... since leaded gasoline exists ITT, then it came out... right on schedule? Perhaps without the part where he deliberately poisoned himself at a press conference to 'prove' how safe lead was.