Christoph's Journal

I don't think I would've taken this assignment if it were a military-run project.

No, let me rethink that for a moment. No, I wouldn't have, because when we agreed to this we didn't really know what it all entailed, and seeing a great big 'USAF' logo on my papers would've sent a defiant chill down my spine. I might have taken the job, then made a bloody arse of it. Or something.

My thoughts are not all that coherent this morning, which is why I'm sitting here at my desk typing in my private files for nobody to read unless I've died and they want to figure out who I'm leaving my Douglas Adams collection to. (What they don't know is that I plan on taking it with me.) And I'm trying to cleanse my mind of distracting thoughts so that I may finally get some work done.

While we are all busy people, and rational thought tells me that it's best to concentrate on the task at hand instead of fraternizing, one can't help but yearn for some sort of companionship, and sometimes I see rainbows when there's only rain (wishful thinking), but as long as I'm not having impure thoughts about Major Sheppard military men, I shouldn't be afraid to explore my boundaries. Seriously? I think that man shits rainbows, but you never saw me write that.

So, this morning was a basic success in the socialising arena, so perhaps this evening, should time allow, I will wander beyond my own orbit again. See what's out there.

A past lover once called me a 'manipulative son of a bitch'. Only he said it in Swahili, and while I don't have much more Swahili than that myself, the sentiment carries across languages. My old therapist once told me that I feel the need to control everything around me because I fear losing control of myself, or being controled by others.

It makes sense, to a point. And in my defence, I haven't been called what Rashid called me in five years.

I'm excited about working on Atlantis, and I'm glad to have the Ancient gene so I'm allowed to play with all these high-tech toys. But I begin to adjust to the fact that we'll be here a long time, and I don't really have anything I can call a friend. Friendly co-workers, yes, but friends? I'm not exactly stealth about my way of life, but with a lot of these military men you really can't be so trusting. The scientists and I often suffer from the same malady of working beyond the acceptable parameters for a social life.

I think it's time to take a walk.

Atlantis has risen. Imagine that. I grew up reading all about the old myths about Atlantis, though my own personal belief on the matter was that Plato made the whole thing up and the New Age Crackpots(tm) had built up all kinds of bullshit around it. There was simply no concrete evidence other than the ruins at Santorini, and those simply pointed to a cataclysm that may have inspired Plato's fanciful tale.

In the end I was both right and wrong. And now here I am, and Plato has nothing on this.

As Head of Linguistics and Anthropology (sounds all kinds of official, doesn't it?), one of my main tasks is to supervise the efforts to go through the extensive Atlantean library (we'd probably manage to read everything on Google before we finish with this, but it's worth the attempt). It all needs to be translated, though I would rather teach everyone Ancient and have them read it themselves. It might be more time-consuming than getting together with a programmer to device translation software, but there is something, in my view, very dishonest about such a thing.

Call me a purist. No, call me elitist and you'd probably be closer to it. But acceptance is the first step to recovery, so at least I'm on the right track.

For my own personal record, and so that I may refer to it in the future, here are things that I predict will happen during our stay on Atlantis:

- somebody will get eaten by a seamonster (probably me)
- I'll find the pornography section of the Ancients' library (but I'll share with those I deem worthy)
- somebody will find a way to synthesize coffee before we run out
- I'll figure out why the Athosians speak perfect English

Now I must schedule a department meeting. The sooner we get to work, the better. We shouldn't simply sit around catching our breath.

Doktor Reichstadt,

Wie du weißt, ist die Arbeit für die Regierung (sei es nun die deutsche oder amerikanische) nicht einfach. Viele Sachen müssen einfach geheimgehalten werden. Darum kann ich mich nicht imstande sehen während der folgenden Monate häufiger zu schreiben. Bitte lass dir gesagt sein, das sich mit meinem Job glücklich bin. Pass auf dich und kümmere dich vor allem um Mutter.

Ihr Sohn,
Christoph


Dear Mom,

Your Young Dr. Livingstone is off on another adventure. I wish I could tell you all about it, and maybe someday I will be able to write my memoirs. As it is, I won't be able to write home much at all, but please don't worry. I will be fine, and I will be doing what I love. I will have enough material to fill the journal you gave me for my birthday many times over. I will have experiences I can't even fathom yet. Don't be too jealous now.

This note needs to be short. Time and circumstance demand it. I know Father listens to you more than he ever did me, so please don't let him say anything to Jonas. The flat is mine to do with as I please now, I've paid for it. I will write again when I can.

Love,
Christoph


Lieber Jonas,

I know I said we would talk when I returned from Antarctica, but the work here is taking up more of my time than I anticipated. It's not fair to you to make you keep waiting when there's no guarantees. I won't be back in Munich for a long time, so I had full ownership of the flat put in your name. You shouldn't have any trouble with my father (you know Mom will take care of him). Please keep painting, you know you're better than you think.

I want you to get on with your life. Find someone new. Someone fat, and ugly, and with a very small penis.

Are you laughing yet? I hope so. Now stop. I'm going to be serious. You always acused me of being married to my work, but you're right. I have to do this, otherwise I'd be back in Munich feeling sorry for myself and you really don't want to have to put up with that. You deserve better. If you don't hear from me as often, don't think it's by my choice.

Have fun, Jonas.

Christoph

Dr. C. Reichstadt's Electronic Personal Journal...

When I write a letter to my father, I will probably recount the tale of the French archaeologist who discovered the Viking tomb in Kenya. I'll probably tell him that I saw the place with my own eyes, and that I've received a grant to go study the finding for the next six months or so. I will probably add something about the unstable political situation in the country, plant the seed so that if I never come back he can refer back to that letter and figure the local gorillas guerillas got to me.

I'm going on this mission, and the posibility of return is slim. But the fact remains that I must go along, before they realise I'm not worthy of the honour. Am I afraid? Surprisingly, not in the least. I can't wait. But putting my affairs in order almost feels like I've been diagnosed with a terminal illness.

Maybe something Kenyan.

[IC, public]

Four years ago, a man was seen pacing the feminine hygiene aisle at a convenience store in a suburb of Madrid for minutes, looking troubled and confused. Finally a store employee stopped him and offered help. After asking a few questions and receiving the appropriate answers, the man began emptying entire shelves of feminine pads into his shopping cart. By the time he was done, his cart was full and the shelves were halfway empty. The harried man then proceeded to the checkout counter, looking appropriately self-conscious.

The moral of the story?

Polygamy isn't as fun as it might seem at first.

For translations, email the linguistics department.
For Ancient lessons, leave your coffee rations at the door and wait to be contacted.
For chocolate, you're fucked.
For stories that are absolutely 100% true, stay tuned.