January 8
I had Coco Puffs for breakfast. I was kind of wary of them, since they look like rabbit droppings, but they were chocolatey. They also had too much sugar. Humans really like sugar. Their breakfasts are full of sugar, and their favorite drinks are full of sugar and bubbles. I'm not sure which cereals they have that I can trust.
I got to poetry class early, because I was eager to learn about human poets. When the professor came in, he was all bundled up because of the cold.
It's weird how humans have to wear clothes to adapt to the cold; you'd think that they'd just want to live somewhere warmer where they didn't have to dress up as much. But maybe there are too many of them: we were told that the world has over seven billion humans on it, which is a number so large I can't even imagine it.
When he took his coat and hat and scarf and hand-socks off, he told us that we'd be starting with Walt Whitman, who has a beard like Starswirl.
Our first poem was Leaves of Grass.
(I'm sure that humans can't eat grass. There hasn't been any at the dining hall, and since it's winter, there isn't any fresh grass to be had outside.)
It's a long poem, and I really liked it. It made me long for spring or summer, when the grass is fresh and tasty, and I can roll around in it if I want to.
Professor Hillberry started reading it aloud, and then had all the class read a part of it. Not the whole thing; it was too long for that, and we would have spent all class reading.
Poetry is meant to be read aloud and shared as a community, like a song.
I had trouble with some of the words, because Walt Whitman lived a long time ago, so he said things that I didn't know, but I tried my very best. I wanted to do his words justice, and feel what he felt when he looked at the grass.
There was some snickering at my expense when the poem talked about shod horses walking on granite, but I couldn't be upset.
We didn't make it through the whole poem, because it was too long for one class. Professor Hillberry talked about it after everypersonone had had a turn reading a few lines.
Then he explained some of Walt Whitman's life, and when he had written different poems, and we read part of When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd. It was sad, but I thought it was also a bit hopeful. He was upset that his friend Abraham Lincoln had died, but he took his solace in nature. When sad things happen, it's good to look beyond yourself and out at the whole world.
Earth ponies put their dead in the ground so that new life may spring forth, and unicorns build cairns and monuments, while pegasuses prefer to be set free in the sky. I hadn't really though about it before, but maybe it's because earth ponies like to feel connected to the land, while we'd rather be free of such notions.
On my way home from class, I mailed my letter to Aquamarine. There is a little boxy building which is inside the same building as the dining hall, which is called the Mail Hut. There are boxes that you can get your mail from, and also a little window like at a telegram office where you can give the mail-worker anything that you want to mail. And if he has any big packages that don't fit in your little mailbox, he will give it to you.
Then I went downstairs which is where the student bookstore is. They sold posters for the walls of our dorm rooms, books for classes, pens and pencils and paper, and gifts which have the college seal on them.
The posters were all rolled up, but there was a display like a giant book where you could flip through them. I found one of the Wonderbolts and thought that would look nice on my wall. When I took it up to the counter, the man there said that I could have it for free if I signed one for him 'cause I looked a lot like Misty Fly.
It's odd that he thought that; her coat is a greyish olive, while mine is blue, but I guess if my eyesight wasn't very good, I could confuse the Wonderbolts uniform for her coat color. Our manecolors are kinda similar, and so is our eye color.
Maybe humans don't notice things like coat color.
So I signed a poster for him, and he was really happy, and now I have something that I can put on my wall that will remind me of home.
I didn't feel right not actually buying something, so I asked him what posters were most popular with other students, and he said that the Bob Marley (who is a singer) and the Pink Floyd album covers on girls were the two most popular.
I studied them both, and finally decided that the girls was more interesting, especially since one of them had cows painted on her back and that reminded me of Walt Whitman.
Since I didn't have anything else to do for the afternoon, I hung the posters by my bed, and then read all of Leaves of Grass. I had to look up a bunch of words in my dictionary, and make a few guesses here and there, but I understood most of it.
My favorite part was right at the end:
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me—he complains of my gab and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable;
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
I kept thinking about the poem at dinner—the song of poetry is a window right into the soul. Maybe humans can't fly, but Mister Whitman knew what it was like to fly, and after dinner was over and I was walking back to the dorm with Peggy, I flew up to the roof of our dorm and perched right on the ridge, where I could see the campus spread out below me, and the city below that.
I thought about how Peggy and all the other people I knew so far couldn't really understand the freedom to fly where you want to without having to suffer through a crowded train car with wings, and I thought about how they have to build bridges or take boats or swim whenever they come to water, and it's no obstacle to me.
I thought about sounding a barbaric yawp, staking my territory, but I didn't. It didn't feel right.
Humans are very much like Earth ponies, and they care about what is theirs. We drift around like dandelion fluff, wanting for nothing. We need claim no territory, for the vastness of the sky is our home, and the clouds are our bed.
If I could be any type of pony it would be a Pegasus. She has it right the sky is theirs.
This is probably the best chapter so far.
Very thought provoking.^^
The Pegasus burial surprised me a little. I really want to know how that works, because that would be an unfortunate surprise. Good chapter though!
Take her to some yuppie place with wheat grass.
6996920
Well, if you disregard most things the show says due to cartoon physics they could probably fly.
Their wings would have to be almost two meters across on across on each side, and they'd need to weigh around 20kg, and they'd need to completely change their flapping action from the show. They'd also not be able to zip and then stop dead and change direction like they do. Crashing into anything would kill or cripple them, because to weigh 20kg their bones would be very weak.
Them taking off would be very uncomfortable to stand next to, because they'll create a lot of gusts when they flap. If RD really flew around in a library she'd probably disorganize everything close to her just by flapping. (Blowing papers around and knocking over things and so on)
6997292 Well, excluding griffons. Dragons. Bat ponies. Alicorns.
6994613 What if they hit the propellers or get sucked into a jet engine? Pegasi have been shown to sustain injuries a few times and it's been heavily implied several times that no pony can survive a fall from Cloudsdale's altitude, so that toughness has a limit.
...mare, we've seen what Pinkie Pie comes up with. I call shenanigans.
6997370
I was wondering about that too... I wonder if that was a poetic way of saying Pegasus ponies traditionally cremate their dead?
6997504 That or they put their body on a cloud and let it drift.
Or they could go full Viking and put the body on a cloud, set the body on fire, and let the cloud drift.
6997504
Na, I reckon cloud burial, like a sea burial. Stick the body in a cloud and push it off in a direction during the funeral.
'course, eventually the cloud dissipates and drops the corpse at terminal velocity onto an unsuspecting earth pony village that then gets to clean up mess, but hey... that's other peep's problem.
I wonder how much international poetry will feature in the course. It would be remiss of me not to mention my namesake. A. B. "Banjo" Paterson was a very popular Australian bush poet, famous for the poetry dual between himself and Henry Lawson that was running in newspapers at the time. I've often wondered how ponies might react to his work.
truer words haven't been spoken and all that.
Keep going! ;)
6997570
That would lead to some weird conversations.
"Must be an epidemic out West. That's the third time a pegasus corpse has crushed my garden in the last week. And poor Rose lost almost half her flowers two months ago when there was a flu outbreak at the pegasus senior's home."
6997570
That's more or less what I expect, although to minimise the dropping onto people's homes things I think they take them to barren places first or push them off to sea. They may have some mythology that the clouds all wander randomly until they find their way to Pony Heaven.
Looks like Silver is well matched with her poetry class, even her diary entries are poetic in places. I wonder if she could tell the class about some Equestrian poetry styles. I wonder how they would vary from humans and between tribes.
How have you reconciled this reality with that of EqG? Or do you not consider that world to be canon?
6997567
The older they get, the less time they spend pushing clouds and flying, so eventually their magic builds up to critical mass, and they just explode into magical rainbows.
Hmm. Given how the pony diet seems to be about half baked goods, I'd think Silver would have a bit more sugar tolerance. Of course, the pegasus palate probably possesses different preferences, especially given what Silver was looking for in the cafeteria earlier. Plus, any sample that contains Pinkie Pie probably isn't representative.
Aside from that headscratcher, a lovely chapter. It's nice to see Silver show a deeper, more poetic side beyond the gobsmacked foreign exchange student.
6997468
It's weird, but in the show generally when they crash into something that's not the ground they shrug it off. If they fall onto the ground, it's shown to be much more serious.
Like, Rainbow broke a wing by hitting the ground and as you say cloudsdale is meant to be dangerous to fall from. However, Rainbow dash flies into a pile of rocks, a signpost, a tree, a cliff, and more and is fine. This doesn't actually make sense to me.
I'm guessing its this way because humans running into stuff is funny, and humans falling off of stuff is more dangerous and the scriptwriters keep this in mind subconsciously.
What I guess makes kinda sense is that they use magic to make it easier to fly by reducing their wind resistance. But, because they have very little wind resistance, their terminal velocity is very high, and so they'd hit the ground very hard.
She should met some paragliders in spring.
Or better yet, some wingsuit BASE jumpers. If not live, than at least on video.
Why do I see her helping some kid get his kite out of a tree?
6998195
Why not a cat?
6998446
I don't think shes ready for earth bandaids
wow great chapter. The whole chapter seemed to have a rather poetic feel to it thanks to the discussion of Whitman and then Silver's musings in the rest of the chapter.
Also great little peaks into the three tribes based on their preferred burial rites. As others have mentioned I'm assuming the Pegasi cremate they bodies before "setting them free in the sky." Though I can't help thinking 6997567's idea of some cloud version of a Viking funeral might be a great idea for ancient Pegasi.
Ah, she waxes poetic, too. Also, nomadic pegasus attitudes FTW!
(internal nostalgic squealing) Oh my gosh, I had that exact poster back in college! And it's kind of adorable that she identifies with the "Atom Heart Mother" cover.
Minor note:
It's Leaves of Grass. Did you mean for her to say it that way? Or was that just a flub?
In any case, I liked the waxing poetic and the attempts at cultural understanding. Cute chapter as always!
6997478
I don't think Pinkie Pie counts as "typical".
6999872 We've also got Cakelestia, The Incredible Renaming Derpy, Donut Joe, Gustav, not to mention everything the Apples come up with. Ponies take their baked goods very seriously.
6999917
Baked goods, yes, but not so much sugar. (Also, Gustav's a griffon, not a pony, and was only ever seen in the context of a dessert contest)
6999939 Uh. Have you seen how much icing, frosting, cream, and straight up pure sugar they put on or in said pastries? The shenanigans remain called.
6997913
6997662
7000196
6999939
Unreliable/ignorant narrator is in play.
What Silver Glow is reacting to is the taste of the (high fructose) corn syrup in the food items she found 'too sugary'.
6997370
6997570
Let's see. They could tie the corpse to a cloud. They could... tie balloons to the corpse. They could... fling it out of a catapult. Either which way, a dead body will eventually rain down from the sky and go splat. Or maybe it's like a viking funeral, except with a cloud instead of a boat. A cloud loaded up with wood or some other fuel. Wouldn't the cloud dissipate? Oh well, that splattered corpse will be the dirt ponies' problem.
We are humans. We don't have fins for swimming, wings for flying, claws or teeth for hunting, or rocket-propelled asses for space travel, yet we don't take 'no' for an answer. We just look nature in the face and say:
So far it's very nice, but may I suggest a narrative obstacle? Just to heat things a little bit.
6997292
Agreed.
6997302
Thank you!
6997354
Thanks!
7001815 No prob.:D
6997370
A traditional, Tibetan sky burial involved the corpse being placed in an open field, where birds of prey would consume it. The bones would then be ground up, and mixed with food which is fed to crows and hawks.
6997504
6997567
6997570
6997684
6997709
One thing to consider with the sky burials, as mentioned above, is that scavengers would pick apart the corpse, possibly in fairly short order. By the time the cloud broke up, there might be nothing left but bones. Apparently vultures can do it to a human in a matter of hours.
6997377
Can we digest wheat grass? I know that human can eat grass (I've done it), but it hasn't really got any nutritional value. Well, maybe some trace minerals, and I suppose it would be a source of fiber. . . .
6997419
I just figure it's passive pegasus magic, and leave it at that. There isn't any way for they to fly in the style that they're drawn (there also isn't any way that their eyes could actually work, either).
6997478
Are you saying that humans don't like sugar? Because I call shenanigans on that
I could argue that we don't actually know what's in those cupcakes, what the frosting is made out of, and so on, but obviously we both know that the writers mean to imply that it's frosting as we know it and love it.
My own headcanon is that ponies like sugared treats in moderation (except Pinkie Pie), but that they wouldn't think of oversugaring their drinks or breakfast cereal, any more than you would consider adding sugar to scrambled eggs.
6997606
I'm really open to suggestions here (hence the 'open' format of the class). I'm planning Longfellow, Poe, and e.e. cummings, but other than that, I'll take what you've got.
I love the idea of a poetry duel in the newspaper. I can't even tell you how happy knowing that was a thing makes me.
6997774
It's easier to ignore it and pretend it never happened, but it could work in the context of this story. Silver Glow isn't going onto Earth cold; she's had various cultural acclimatization classes, has learned English, and so forth.
The only problem with putting EqG in this story's canon is that it (EqG) implies that it's easy for a pony to adapt to a new world in a day or so, when in reality that would not be the case at all.
6997913
I prefer to make the ponies more horse-like, although of course IRL horses do enjoy sugar. It's possible that they make better dietary choices than many humans, or that they have a very clear understanding of what's dessert and what isn't.
Also, it's worth mentioning that we get accustomed to what we normally eat. I once went several months without drinking any soft drinks, and then I had a Mountain Dew, and all the sugar in it really messed me up. (I know it wasn't the caffeine, because during that same time period, I averaged a pot or two of coffee a day.)
6997973
I seem to recall that coming up in commentary on an episode of The Simpsons: it was okay to show Homer battered and bleeding, but they couldn't show Bart badly injured.
As I'd rather go with more realistic physics, crashing into the ground can be fatal for pegasi, but so can crashing into trees or barns or whatever.
I wonder, though, if that isn't a lazy solution, and better choice would be to study the episodes, find out what causes injury and how long it lasts for, and determine their biology from there? Like, maybe they can project a little shield in front of themselves, and they only get hurt when it doesn't face in the right direction, or when the amount of damage exceeds what the shield can absorb.
6998099
That would actually be pretty cool. She might be able to give the paragliders some tips on staying aloft a bit longer, and even if not, it would be a lot of fun for her and them.
Most of the videos I've seen on YouTube, they're either BASE jumping, or leaving from a helicopter at fairly low altitude. But there isn't any reason that you couldn't jump from a higher altitude, is there?
There are a number of places she could go skydiving near Kalamazoo, and that would also be a nice end-run around some of the FAA's requirements.
6999722
I think that of the main three tribes, pegasi are most likely to be poets. It feels like something that would be in their very soul. Unicorns are largely scientists and literalists, earth ponies are pragmatists, and not particularly given to flights of fancy.
My headcanon is that pegasi have traditionally been nomadic. Given that they can sculpt clouds and relax on them, there is actually no reason why a pegasus would ever have to land on the ground.
7001919 BASE jumpers jump from cliffs (among other things) for the bigger thrill. It's the closeness of ground that give them endorphin boost. Jumps from the plane or helicopter with wingsuit are done mainly for training, or flying between skyscrapers.
Something like this:
Most of pro wing suiters do something like this:
She could watch this as well:
6999787
I didn't have that poster (although it was popular when I was in college). Maybe I ought to get one. Speaking of nostalgia, remember the box set of The Wall (I think that's which one it was) that had the blinking LED?
I meant Leaves of Grass. There's a Tanith Lee novel called Days of Grass, which is probably how I confused myself.
d.gr-assets.com/books/1322656110l/808694.jpg
Thanks!
6999917
I can't remember which story it was--probably Quantum Castaways--where Twilight said ponies had fought wars over baked goods.
Yup, Quantum Castaways.