A Day Late…
Not a dollar short, though, because I get paid today.
The reason why I didn’t write this is simple and complicated at the same time: Shitty Internet.
When the internet is shitty, I disperse into other activities whilst I wait for That One Gorram Page To Load. In this case, it was attempting to post notice on my main tumblr concerning yesterday’s Instant.
Since the internet was shit, I figured I could play some Factorio in between time-out error messages. And by the time I was done with that noise, I thought I could play some more Factorio to unwind before I got to this blog. You know, because the internet was shit.
I blink and it’s 9PM and I’m wondering why I’m tired.
And now… the rationalisation as to how one can have small communities inside a larger community. You need look no further than your own social aura.
Think about the city in which you live. There’s at least thousands in the population, right? Maybe millions if you live in a megalopolis. Now think about the people you know, by face or by name.
You have your neighbourhood group, your workspace group, and people you know in the areas you go. The coffee shop, the grocery place, your hobby nook… Different sets of people belong in different areas. Suddenly finding your teacher in Coles or Costco is jarring because they belong in your school.
And you likely have that one bunch of friends you’ve hung out with five-ever.
You know hundreds of people, unless you’re a hopelessly isolated nerd like myself. Even then, there’s small communities of like-minded nerds somewhere in your aura who know you and will geek out with you [most people I know who share my nerditry are on another continent] even if it’s online.
Online cliques are another kettle of fish, though. I’m not focussing on that at the moment.
What I am focussing on is the fact that police are their own society. A society within a society. The Cop Tribe, if you will. Be they protectors of the law and order or a militia for the protection of the rich, they have their own lingo, memes, codified language, etc. They’re apart from the common throng.
Of course, in corrupt societies, this leads to cops getting away with domestic abuse, murder, and other crimes. I’d like to write a realm with a little more sense than that, thankyou. The police force and emergency services crew on my islands have an honour code – or perhaps the entire native population has an honour code.
Stuff like taking oaths seriously aught to do it, since initiation into the police force involves a solemn oath to protect the innocent and uphold the law.
There has to be an ingrained system in the native population that would curb the “natural” inclinations of white invaders to attempt to quash it. Word getting around could easily work, at least historically. “This person is a foresworn person. Don’t do business with them. Don’t trust them.”
The whole ideal is keep your promises. It would be rigid. Unsquashable. Early explorers would find then-villagers taking their children inside and barricading their doors. Attempts at blind trade would be met by natives throwing the untrusted goods into the sea. Things like that. The whitefellas would have an uphill battle to understand what’s going on at first. Entire villages would pull up stakes and move away from the colonial establishment. [And wait for the monsoons to wash them away]
Those that survived the first monsoon/cyclone cycle would be helped, but in a cautious way. No person actually deserves to go hungry or without shelter. And such help would come with spoken caveats, “I help you even though you are foresworn. I am not foresworn. You must learn to be proper again.”
White people learn -eventually- not to fuck these people around. One misstep is all it takes to completely demolish any efforts at trust and they have to start over from scratch, with the lesson of patience. It would be so excruciating that it’s easier to be honest and uphold any promises.
…which would make the field of politics in this area particularly interesting…
Which might be another topic for another time.