#myrmecos

[futurebird]

Traditional ant names

Traditional ant names are based on one ant virtue as the first name and one ant “intimidating quality” as the last name.

For example:

Temperance the Absconder

Proportionality the Relentless

Synchronicity the Amputator

Alacrity the Calculating

Efficiency the Eternal Witness

[futurebird]

When the ants first developed written language it was natural that they would use pheromones. But, recording scents on paper presents many challenges. Some pheromones are volatile and may dominate an entire page— others decay or change meaning over time. So the ants developed textured patches, little squares each designed to best absorb and preserve a particular pheromone— what was even better was that the specificity of these many textures made it possible to revive old volumes.

By grouping patches in sets of 6 more complex ideas could be conveyed. By skipping application of pheromones altogether, relying only on texture to convey meaning, books become less ceremonial & more information-dense. This is the origin of what humans call “ant braille” though, you must imagine, rather than binary raised or lowered dots a labyrinth of little squares representing 80 core textures & 200+ lesser-used variants whose meaning changes based on proximity & amplitude.

[futurebird]

If you look up "symbolism of ants" most often mentioned are efficiency & industrious ... but if you really watch ants you'll discover they aren't efficient at all. I have no doubt that they want to be efficient. It's listed as an "ant virtue" in my plans for their planet. It's one of the most popular ant names. In reality ants struggle a with all tasks it's more about brute force & sheer numbers than efficiency.

Industriousness? "do what you know you can do; no more, no less" is the ant motto.

[futurebird]

Ants

Agriculture War Keeping Livestock Barn Raising Royal Coups Grain Silos Paper Garbage Management First Aid Evil Stepmothers Division of Labor Social Distancing for Disease Management Pranking the Neighbors Architecture Tour Guides High Density Housing

Ants Did It First!

[futurebird]

Danger and dance tapping antennas You'll find your chance On the planet of the--

[futurebird]

"Timothy! No! That's a first edition! And where are your spectacles! What has gotten in to you?" Character idea:

A scholar who is a book louse larvae— he is deeply torn between completing his research by reading the books and eating them so that he can pupate (and maybe then, at last have the nerve to ask out the moth on whom he has a terrible unrequited, totally secret crush) Sometimes he eats books he finds poorly written out of spite.

“I had to miss a week of work sick in bed after eating Art of the Deal, but it seemed like a matter of personal duty to munch up that one. Worse I don’t think it helped my silk glands develop at all! Really I felt worse after the ordeal—had to nibble on a 1st edition of Nother’s tables just to get my bearings— and now all of the logarithms between 0.5 and 0.7 are missing.” He said with a little sob. “Whatever am I to do? I simply love my books far too much!”

[futurebird]

The Subway on Planet Myrmecos

The ants piled in to the subway car. Each had a newspaper. (by looking carefully at the header you could tell which colony they were from) Committed to business-like conduct & social order each ant had her paper folded into a strip so she could read one column at a time without getting the paper in the faces of other passengers. Some ants read by sight, while others opted for braille, which they scanned with the sensitive tips of their antennae. Fortunately most print material on Myrmecos contains both.

Holding a sturdy leather strap with one tarsal claw, the paper with another & checking her pocket watch with a third, ants were the picture of urban sophistication.

I did feel a little out of place on the train full of ants. Their antennae neatly folded like the colony newspapers, they made excellent use of the space. No jostling, no arguments. Just a silence filled with pheromone conversations that I could not hear.

A tall and elegant bull ant worker with bright dark eyes offered me her seat... as if being a human were a kind of infirmity. I took up her offer. I really needed to sit down.

[futurebird]

The Provost's Secretary

(In which I help a single working mother.)

When I arrived at the provost's office I didn't know what manner of criticism I was to receive. Even in my nervous state I couldn't help but notice a peculiar rustling commotion under the long dress of her secretary, a near-sighted gray wolf spider who seemed just as flustered as I was. I craned for a better look, and saw a little spiderling peek from the ample hems of her skirts. This, it seemed, was too much for the secretary. She gave up all pretense of checking me in.

"Please oh please don't tell the provost I brought my children here!" begged the secretary. Of course I assured her I wouldn't say a word. But, after my meeting with the Provost I did something that may have betrayed the confidence of the nervous mother. The Provost followed me from her office, still giving instructions and criticisms of my work, and this was when I spotted a spiderling snuggled on the provost's gaster! Something in my demeanor betrayed my mirth at the situation.

The provost whirled around fixing her large and perpetually angry black eyes on her own bottom. Seeing the spiderling, she flew into a rage. Mandibles waggling at her secretary! She backed the poor spider into a corner. Then she shouted:

"If you bring them again you might as well look for another job!" and slammed her office door. I felt horrible. This was all my fault. I would be responsible for a mother of... um... a mother of many being out of work with no way to support her young.

So, of course I offered to babysit. To my surprise the spider was happy to trust me with such an important task and this is how she came to arrive at my apartment to drop the little ones off. She had packed them all into a large basket.

"They should stay in the basket. You don't need to do anything. Just don't leave them alone." Confident that I was helping, I bid their fussing furry mother goodbye and sat down at my desk to work on my research. After some time, I felt something small and soft nestling into my leg.

It was one of the spiderlings of course. The basket simply didn't provide the comfort of mother. I attempted to move the little one back, but when I got close to the basket several more made their way on to my arms and chest. They looked up at me, each with 8 little black eyes. "mum?" they asked. Who was I to denny them?

Soon I was covered head to toe ... and though I tried to resume my paperwork, it could not be done. I simple stood in the middle of the room, arms out, covered in spiders. I don't know how much time passed or how I didn't become overwhelmed, but suddenly after a time they all poured off my body rushing to the door.

Thankfully, it was their mother, and it was clear I was just a substitute since they made their way back to her rump with all haste. I had a few unsettling dreams, but I also resolved to talk to the provost about her intolerant attitude to children. I suppose ants can just leave their little ones at home, they have sisters who are nurse maids!