Utopia Project
My Strange World: A Journal
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11/19/2336
I guess I'm starting a journal. I got it as a gift and I'm not the type of person to let a gift go to waste. Might as well write about why we're in this predicament in the first place:
In 2326, an 11-mile-wide asteroid struck the earth in what was formerly Ethiopia. Little did we know, the ones who died instantly had it easy. Billions died on impact, mostly people from Africa, Southern Europe, and parts of Asia. In the months after the impact, the world was thrashed by earthquakes and tsunamis, wiping out big cities and coastal areas. At the same time, the temperature fell, thrusting Earth into its sixth Ice Age. Global temperatures averaged below 30 degrees, making Earth an icy wasteland. 10 years after the initial impact, only an estimated 3 million people remain alive, most of whom reside in the northern United States and Canada region. The people who are left have formed communities living on the ice, where each person plays a crucial role in keeping the group alive. Most people are farmers, who grow plants that don't need sunlight or sculptors, our modern term for construction workers. Some women are also allowed to become clothesmakers since everyone needs thick clothes to survive. Each person plays a pivotal role in maintaining not only our society but also the Earth. Former engineers work countless hours to try and get generators up and running. They haven't been successful yet. Doctors have become infinitely more important, as people get sick more frequently due to the cold temperatures. Society is a fragment of what it once was. Now I, a 32-year-old named Meyers have to help rebuild it.
This YouTube video goes over the different sizes of asteroids and the impact they had on Earth. I'd recommend looking at Chicxulub, which is the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs, it was similar in size to the one in this story, but slightly smaller.
This chart shows all of the speculated Ice Ages. As you can see, an Ice Age is classified when the temperature drops rather extremely, usually due to there being less sunlight. We also are living through a smaller Ice Age right now, though it's not as extreme as past ones.
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11/22/2336
I've been having weird dreams and I've been told to write about them for some reason. Something about how it'll help me remember my family more. I guess I'll give it a shot here:
"God, we're all going to die aren't we?" My mom is on edge as we are huddled in our bunker. When the asteroid hits, the Earth shakes for minutes straight. That was the last time I heard her voice before my memory went blank. As I jolt awake, I think about the bad dreams I've been having. The asteroid hit years ago, yet each night since I've had bad dreams about it. The doctor tells me it's some sort of PTSD. Most people here in Tundra have it. Tundra is our ice community, home to 43 people. Living in the ice, our days consist of repetitive tasks to keep the community thriving. My job is a sculptor, making new buildings and homes out of the ice. Although it's hard work, I actually quite like it. The other sculptors are a great group of guys, and seeing our hard work contribute to others' happiness is the best part. Life is simple. We wake up early, work our butts off, and finish the night at the bar with the farmers. Most of the men in Tundra are sculptors or farmers, though Jeff lucked out. He's the bartender. The older man sits in the bar all day making vodka (just using the link to show the process, don't actually do it) and serves an allocated amount each night. Food is rationed out to us similarly. Each day proceeds like the one prior. The only thing that changes is that I get every tenth day off, a standard for sculptors. My off days are spent roaming around out of Tundra, where the world has gone quiet. Snow covers most of the planet, which dampens out the noise. I've never heard the world quieter. Life certainly isn't the same, but I wouldn't want to go back. Sure I miss my family and friends, but I've found peace in my new life. This reminds me of a quote from my favorite book I read a long time ago called Station Eleven. "Hell is the absence of the people you long for" (Mandel 144). Why put myself through hell when I've created a new family here? The past is behind me. The world may be cold, but the people around me are warmer.
This is what a sample room may look like. They are small, but they get the jobs done. Beds are made out of ice and use fur from hunted animals as blankets and padding.
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12/11/2336
Life has been boring in Tundra recently. I genuinely have nothing to write about. I guess I'll describe my job to any poor futuristic soul who finds this:
My job as a sculptor is simple. I wake up, dress warm, and head out, pickaxe in hand. I head to the job site with the other sculptors and we work away at the ice, trying to form it into whatever we are making. Frequent breaks are needed as the pickaxes are heavy. With everyone working together, projects still take a long time. Clearing out the ice is the worst part. We can't just let it sit in there, so we have to move it outside. The ice is heavy, so we've created sleds to help drag it. Sometimes if we need a break we go outside and sled, bringing out the inner child in us. I love sledding. I remember doing it when I was younger. I'd give anything to be a child again.
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12/16/2336
Man, I need to get better at writing in this thing more. Something interesting happened early this morning though, so at least this one will be exciting:
As I lie asleep on my rock-solid bed, I hear a faint shout in the distance. "We have a thief! A thief!" I know that voice better than most. Plenty of nights had been spent talking to Jeff, so his deep voice was familiar to me. I shoot out of bed and throw on another coat, not wanting to get too cold. As I walk outside into the cavern that is Tundra, I see Jeff holding a man by the collar. I can't make out who it is at first, but when I get closer I see it's Chris, one of the farmers. By now, everyone has woken up and is making their way down to the base of the cavern. Chris has a look of panic in his eyes, understanding what happens next. In Tundra, crime is not tolerated in the slightest. Each crime is punishable by nearly certain death. Murderer, stealer, abuser, it doesn't matter, they're all punished the same. Criminals are forced to leave Tundra, clothed in nothing but pants. With temperatures below freezing, all criminals die. Chris tries to make his case, but Jeff caught him drinking significantly more vodka than he was allowed. That night, Chris was forced to leave Tundra and was never seen again. Now we are down to 42 citizens.
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12/19/2336
I've realized a beauty in this world, and I think it's only fair to share it with whoever finds this. This strange world certainly is different than it was:
Today was my off day, finally. I had no tasks in mind other than to enjoy the new beauty that the world provides. Snow now covers the desolate land that cities were built on. For miles in each direction, the only thing I can see is white. Snow is falling from above, with flakes being the size of my hand. I catch a snowflake and study its beauty. Its sharp corners and pointed edges seem out of this world. There's no way that nature could have formed this art piece. As night approaches, I glance up to the sky. The dust from the initial impact has begun to settle, allowing me to see space. Thousands of stars fill my eyes, much more than I remember from before the impact. I guess it makes sense air pollution has come to a halt. The world is more beautiful than ever. Although life won't ever be the same, there is some beauty in our new world. As I think deeper about this new life, I can't help but be reminded of Station Eleven when Mandel said, "They spend all their lives waiting for their lives to begin" (Mandel 86). After the asteroid hit, I felt like my life truly began. I get the opportunity to explore a world that nobody else has before. My work is useful, helping people out each day. My impact is felt, and I love the people around me. There is always beauty in the world, it's just up to us to seek it out.
Here is an example of the night sky with zero pollution that the character is seeing in his Utopia. With pollution being at an all-time low in their society, the night sky looks like this every night.
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Mandel, Emily St. John. Station Eleven: A Novel (National Book Award Finalist). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 2014.
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