More About Maps

Since all maps are non-living sketches, the cartographer must be available to furnish the necessary breath-of-meaning, or else the maps become but additional markers in the graveyard of the lost.

The quicker and more explanatory is a map, the less is its attraction.  Little, fragmented,

piecemeal maps, apparently pointing to particular “problem areas,” are always the most welcome.

A more alert man would not have to carry about the worry beads to placate nervous movement. He knows where a better version lies in the skull.

The ordinary mind is made to be troubled.  Stilled waters are useless seas, and the only systems at rest are undertakers on strike.

During the past peace time of the Kingdoleum Empire there arose a certain military scholar.  He carefully studied the recorded and oral histories of all the world’s great battles, their generals, and their tactics.  His subsequent writings and explanations of warfare raised his fame therein to an unparalleled height, and the whole Empire recognized him as its greatest military theoretician.  The day came that the Northern Mongols declared war on the Empire and the emperor immediately placed the peoples’ defense in the hands of the military scholar.  A great army was raised, and the scholar, along with all his notes and knowledge, led the forces across the Dion Plains to confront the unruly Mongols.  Once over the Plains, the scholar rode up to the crest of the first mountain in the early morning astride his trusty steed, his notes and battle plans in hand, looking toward the opposing ridge where over the Mongols were soon expected to charge.  Suddenly, far in the distance, a rumbling sound was heard.  Dust began to rise over the opposing ridge, and as the mighty Mongol hordes began to crest the ridge, the scholar’s fine reputation was forever lost as he was heard to scream, “Ga-ad-damn, where the fuck did all those guys come from?”

J.