Strange dreams kept coming, waking me up all night. I dreamed of hyeanadonts, of little talking raccoons, of dust and wind, and of woven grass baskets. I woke up just as the light of dawn was brightening the station’s Lexan windows, and before I could get my feet on the concrete floor, a clap of thunder rolled over.
Oh, great, I thought. A couple of steps and I was at the window.
To say it was pouring would have been the grossest of understatements. The rain was coming down in buckets, bending down the brush around the station. Little rivers of mud were flowing everywhere; the whole countryside looked like one giant puddle.
Damn!
Well, against my better judgment, I got the Hummer out anyway, and headed south. I didn’t remember crossing any creeks the day before, but I forded two retracing my earlier route, both rain-swollen runs that had been dry washes before. Both were under two feet deep, but swift; I had a couple touchy moments in the second one, as the Hummer slid sideways ten or fifteen feet, the tires slipping on the rock bottom. I managed somehow to regain control and roared out on the far bank, the engine screaming over the drumming of the rain on the Kevlar roof, as I broke free of the racing water.
I arrived at the high ridge overlooking the river about noon, more or less. The valley was a disaster.
Swollen with trees, debris, and the bodies of dead and dying animals, the river was out of control. It must have rained up-country all night, maybe beginning the day before. The slope down to the river would be impassible. Even if the rain stopped immediately, it would be several days before the ground dried enough to get around.
There was little else to do; I turned the Hummer to follow the ridgeline upstream, hoping at least to find a good vantage point. After about an hour’s driving, I found a hard, rocky point on the top of a high bluff overlooking a wide bend in the river valley. If the rain cleared just a little, I’d be able to see for miles.
But not right now. The rain still fell, not quite as hard as before, but hard enough. I watched through the windshield with the big marine binoculars until it started to get dark. Nothing. Finally I crawled into the back of the Hummer. I was pretty confident that, rain or no rain, it was setting securely on the rough sandstone outcrop. I made a few notes, and went to sleep.
I woke up to bright sunshine and the twittering of a hundred or so little birds. The birds looked like a warbler species, little yellow birds with chestnut heads and black tails. I sat up, opened the back doors of the Hummer and just sat there, listening. One of the warblers perched on a bush a few feet away, and launched into an incredible outpouring of song, that must have lasted two or three minutes. I was wondering how it managed to draw enough breath to keep it up when I spotted the movement fifty yards or so farther away.
Two of the little raccoon-things were standing at the edge of the trees, staring at me. Both of them had the little woven baskets on their backs. As I watched, frozen, a smaller one appeared between the two big ones.
They stared, and I stared back. The thought occurred to me, as strange as they looked to me, I was the alien here.
A sinking feeling in my stomach reminded me that the whole rationalization for sending a human being forty million years back in time to poke around, doing a bio survey; was that there weren’t any humans around. There wouldn’t be anything even remotely human around for another thirty-five million years. Nothing to interfere with, no cultures to disrupt; just dumb animals. But dumb animals don’t weave baskets, don’t fashion those baskets into carrying baskets. And they don’t carry food in the baskets, to be taken to another location – a camp? A village? They don’t take food somewhere else to eat it. The raccoon-thing on the right had a large fish in its basket. I could see the tail poking from the top of the woven grass container.
How are we going to define “human,” now, I wondered?
More important, what happened to these little things in the end? How far did they go, what happened to them, why haven’t we found any traces?
I had to name them.
I slowly raised the binoculars, focusing on the largest of the three animals. The shape of the head, the nimble front paws, the pelt, the tail, everything shouted “raccoon.”
Well, that made the initial classification obvious, if a little hasty. Their little baskets made an informal name obvious, too.
Procyon sapiens; the Weavers.
The Weaver with the basket turned to the other adult, and made a twittering warble, punctuated with dancing movements of its forepaws. The other nodded – impossibly, unbelievably, so humanly nodded, and herded the youngster back into the brush. The larger one stood tall on its hind legs and regarded me cautiously.
“Well, I’m pleased to meet you,” I said in a soft voice.
The Weaver’s eyes opened a trifle wider. He bobbed his head once and twittered at me, gesturing with one hand like paw.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, little Weaver,” I said.
The Weaver twittered again, pointing at something behind me.
I turned and looked.
A herd of titanotheres was climbing out of the still-flooded river valley only a hundred yards away. They made almost no noise on the wet ground, but two bulls at the front of the herd peered myopically at me, eyes drawn by my movement. The larger of them shook his spatulate horn and bellowed a warning.
Better be moving along, I though. When I turned again, the little Weaver was gone.
I wanted badly to track the little thinking creatures, but not with a milling herd of three-ton monsters a hundred yards away, stomping, snorting and growing agitated. I climbed quietly, easily into the Hummer and drove quickly away.
Three hours and one truly frightening stream-fording later I arrived back at the cinder-block research station to find the first morning’s hyeanadont pair sniffing at the bay door. Fortunately the same engineers who had left the passenger seat in the Hummer had left the horn in as well. One loud blast sent the two great predators bounding for cover, and I opened the bay door and drove inside, closing and securing the door behind me.
Two weeks, five days left. Nineteen days to compile a decent photographic record, to carry out observations of social structures, to delve into the lives of Earth’s first intelligent species before the Chronos field popped up again, and I had to step through into the twenty-first century. How long would it be before the Project had funds to send me back? Pretty quick, once they find out about the Weavers, I reminded myself. In nineteen days, my time, I’d be shaking up the biological sciences pretty thoroughly – not bad work for only being gone half an hour in the twenty-first century.
Except there is no going back because the weavers take over the world now.
Or a weaver gets chrono fielded in soon…
Furries rejoice!
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/1/1b/Rocketraccoon.png
When do they start wearing clothes and learn to operate complex weapons?
I am amazed that it’s Sloopy & Banjos anniversary. I remember when it started (and before, where does the time fly?) and wondering how well it would go, probably won’t last longer than a Russian mail order wedding. I am glad to be 100% in the wrong. I do hope the other two Reason weddees are doing equally well.
Who are the other two?
Was it Grand Moff Serious Man and someone else?
I remember there is another couple that came out of H&R, but I’m struggling to remember who.
Think it was Grand Moff Serious Man and kibbles? Butchering their handles.
They didn’t come over (and dropped out from reason due to live) but several of the PTB are in contact with them.
*life, not live
Didn’t l0b0t marry SP?
No, SP was married to OMWC; l0b0t and WebDom are together
A small price to pay for a cleaner healthier environment
“This will be … from our estimation, probably the largest lithium-ion battery pickup, cleanup, that’s ever happened in the history of the world,” said Steve Calanog, the Environmental Protection Agency’s incident commander for the Palisades and Eaton fire cleanups.
But that cleanup process is complex and resource-intensive.
——-
“It is very likely that these batteries were not all consumed in the fire, so now they’re damaged, which means they’re all dangerous,” he said. Myers explained that the battery systems in hybrid and electric cars are well-protected, so even vehicles that were damaged by the fires may still have charged batteries.
Handling the batteries “requires a great deal of technical sophistication and care,” Calanog said. The EPA team must wear flame-resistant clothing underneath disposable protective suits. Masks cover their faces, and either come with insertable cartridges to filter out chemicals or attach to air tanks. The crew blocks off the area where it’s working and keeps water on site in case flames erupt.
Before they can be sent to a waste or recycling facility, the collected batteries must be de-energized so that they hold no charge or very little. To do that, Myers said, the EPA will likely use a process developed after the Maui wildfire in 2023, which involves submerging the batteries in a solution of saltwater and baking soda. Once the batteries have lost their charges, they can be crushed with a steamroller or shipped to a facility in special packaging.
Simple, really. Of course, those burned out towns and neighborhoods will have to be 100% clean and secure before anyone can be allowed to enter or begin work.
Just get the EPA to handle the whole thing, it will only take a decade.
It will become a SuperFun site!
I keep hearing that the area is toxic, but they never explain why. Where did all the toxicity come from? EV batteries? Solar panels? Insulation materials? Asbestos from older homes? What’s the evidence that the toxins are at a dangerous level? When I was a teenager some homes in my town burned down in a grass fire. We were told to keep out because it’s not our property and because we might cut ourselves on the rubble. Nobody ever mentioned toxicity.
A friend of our neighbors has a house in the Palisades. The house wasn’t damaged, but they won’t be allowed back in for 9 months. Why? FYTW. Granted the home is probably without power and maybe without drinking water, but I don’t see why they shouldn’t be allowed to live on their property.
“The area contains substances known to the state of California to cause cancer.”
Such as water and air.
…known only to the state of California…
You dare question the state?
Californians.
It’s full of toxic masculinity.
Non-lesbian firefighters, man.
The very definition of Toxic Masculinity.
“Of course, those burned out towns and neighborhoods will have to be 100% clean and secure before anyone can be allowed to enter or begin work.”
But the homeless can move right back in, no permits needed.
So I guess when Newsom said they were going streamline licensing and regulations to expedite rebuilding, he was just lying?
He’s a fucking liar. News at 11.
Were his lips moving?
Deeply intrigued and now I’m off on a bender researching the Oligocene after getting caught up. Also, happy anniversary to Sloopy & Banjos
As for where to dispose of the hazardous waste, Calanog said the EPA has not decided yet, and a number of sites are available.
However, VanGerpen said many facilities that receive hazardous waste are located outside California, and there may be limits to how much waste they’re willing to accept.
The waste must be cleared before authorities can move on to the next phase of the cleanup: removing debris. VanGerpen urged residents to avoid sifting through rubble until their property has been deemed safe.
“Residents should not go and try to remove hazardous debris,” he said. “Just your normal household items can be dangerous and pose a risk.”
Leave it to the experts.
It’s almost as if they’re trying to get people to sell at rock bottom prices.
“Quand le sang coule dans les rues, achetez une propriété.”
Gesunheit
There is a vaccine in development using a previous method, known as DerpSpeed, that will soon be available and mandatory in CA to negate the affects of hazardous debris and mudslides.
Three hours and one truly frightening stream-fording later I arrived back at the cinder-block research station to find the first morning’s hyeanadont pair sniffing at the bay door.
I was expecting the station to have been washed away in the storm.
I was expecting the storm surge to have killed every lifeform he’s examined so far (explaining why we never saw the Weavers in the fossil record… they’re washed out to sea).
I apparently am very pessimistic today.
You don’t think they can weave tiny canoes?
If they can, the canoes must hide in der halls.
Sensei- https://www.youtube.com/live/ku06k0Eti6U FujiTV’s press conference on Masahiro Nakai. 11 hours long, just wrapped up around 3am JST
What was the topic?
Nakai (celebrity host/presenter, former leader of the #1 boy band) raped a woman on a date arranged by his employer FujiTV, which covered it up.
Awful, but what was there to go over for the remaining 10 hours?
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masahiro_Nakai#Sexual_misconduct_scandal_and_retirement
“nonconsensual sexual activity”
A bit of dissembling according to the summary I read, but two resignations and no dogeza so a bit unusual.
Wait, they’re actually holding a state trooper accountable for something?
I can’t wait for the eventual full timeline of this absolute shit-show. I initially thought that it would be simple and stupid – dumb cop playing with his duty gun accidentally shoots himself, makes up story to avoid blame/get injury payments and comp time. But now it appears that things are even stupider than that…
Same. When I heard the initial available facts a few months ago, my reaction was “Glock leg and coverup”. But it seems he was doing more than just negliegent firearms handling.
“During the search, investigators also seized hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash and other items, the sources said.
Mascia lives with his parents at the residence. His parents, Thomas Mascia Sr., who is a former New York Police Department officer, and Dorothy Mascia, also surrendered to State Police on Monday and were each charged with criminal possession of a firearm, a low-level felony.”
“Mascia’s father, Thomas, is a former New York Police Department police officer who was among three officers arrested and charged in 1992 with a scheme to buy more than four ounces of cocaine in Brooklyn that they had intended to sell on Long Island.”
This will be interesting when it’s all sorted out.
Totally not corrupt cops.
Totally.
JFC, that web page is nearly unreadable. Everything that can be done to make it a pain in the ass has been done to it.
I know, but it’s the local rag.
Is there a good place to get the median income of people who are actually working by country? The data I keep turning up has got to include a lot of people making $0 for the numbers to make sense.
Animal:
Regarding the story: It also reminds me of the H Beam Piper SF novel Little Fuzzy. A good deal of the plot revolves around whether the Little Fuzzies can be classified as sapient and thus have rights under law.
The Procyon sounds quite intelligent, to be able to recognize the protagonist as intelligent and also warn him of approaching danger.
Imagine if the raccoon people had survived…
We wouldn’t need orphans to find and sort change!
It was all fun and games until the great racoon uprising of 1803.
Who said you could do that?
A national RV dealer is in hot water again for flying a mammoth American flag at one of its lots — and company CEO Marcus Lemonis of TV’s “The Profit’’ says this one isn’t coming down, either.
Camping World — which runs more than 250 RV dealerships across the country — raised the new gigantic flag at its Greenville, NC, location in October, according to WLBT.
Local zoning officials say the Stars and Stripes fluttering over the RVs is 15 times bigger than allowed. Even the 120-foot flagpole is too big, coming in at nearly twice the height permitted by local law.
The city started citing Camping World on Wednesday, and the penalties are racking up quickly: As of Friday, there had already been six violations that will cost about $1,150 in fines.
Lemonis said it doesn’t matter because Old Glory is not going anywhere.
“The flag is not coming down,” said the 50-year-old tycoon, whose reality show involves him investing his own money in struggling small businesses.
Oversize flag, on a giant flagpole? It’s insurrection, I tells ya!
No one would say a word if it was a trans flag.
They sure would in Greenville, SC. I drive past a place that flies a big Confederate flag on the way to work. Nobody complains.
People probably complain, but nobody cares. As it should be.
https://variety.com/2025/tv/news/roseanne-barr-new-comedy-series-saving-america-1236285811/
A TV show I might watch? 2025 keeps getting better.
The domestic goddess hasn’t been funny in decades
Yeah. I can’t say I will watch it. Watch her rap video first before getting excited about the new show.
So… Weeds?
Went back and read II.
How does your compass synch with the sun’s path? Have you timed the days and nights? What do the stars look like…anyhting familiar, the same or slightly different? Hope you are keeping track of the moon, its phases – if it has them – and are you looking at the same moon-face we see today? A shame you dont have a sea-shore to keep tide measurements.
Let me read III and I will have more questions.
When they find out what I saw they will have to send me back!
No dummy. Too many people have too much invested in the cartoon narrative they have made up….mostly their egos. They are going to kill you, destroy your evidence and bury you in the middle of Loving county.
Sauruman: I think of intelligence this way: Social or non-social. Non socials are barely sentient. Social is divided into ‘recognize others of their own species and classify the world into ‘ant’ and ‘not ant’. They know that there are other critters but see them as ‘us’ and ‘not us’. They socialize only within their own species.
Then there are the higher intelligent social animals that understand there are other species and individuals that can be interacted with using the basic principles of socialization.
If you start looking at lots of different animals you will be surprised at how many of them are not where we expected them to be.
This is a very interesting scenario in more ways than I first thought. A time traveler would essentially arrive on a different planet, maybe a different universe. There are a lot of things we might take for granted that we should not.
Bring a high sensitivity scale and a standard weight. Make sure it still works. Use some water and see if it works for materials already there. There is no guarantee the laws of the universe are constant over time. Check rotation, orbit and tilt of the earth. We know those are not constant. Distance from the sun?
I would also want air samples, water samples (ocean) etc.
I think what we are really looking at is a life-long mission to gather the info we want.
Yeah, but that would make a really dull story.
Not to me