From Mensagenda — March 2006

In 1991 two hikers near the Austrian-Italian border in the Oetz valley discovered the frozen body of a 5,300-year-old "ice man." He apparently died face down with one arm extended straight across his chest.¹

He had a number of artifacts with him that were the technologies of the day: He had shoes made of grass, bearskin, and hay; a quiver with two complete arrows and a dozen partly constructed shafts; a woven grass cloak; iPod earphones; a cap of brown bear fur; an axe shaft bound with leather; and a copper axe blade². He also had an arrowhead lodged in his back and it’s presumed that this is what killed him.

Don’t weep for him, dear reader — he would have been dead by now anyway. Researchers have given him a name — a nice Germanic Ice Man-like nickname — that’s too ridiculous for me to want to proliferate by repeating it and I’m quite certain it wasn’t his actual name anyway, if he even had a name. They’ve analyzed his stomach contents, concluding he died in the spring when a certain pollen is around. Maybe so. The evidence at the scene and on his body suggests he died in a fight with several others. Recent DNA analysis suggests he might have been sterile, and this led to speculation that he was killed as an outcast (at age 46 or so). Such a ridiculous application of modern values! It’s equally possible he was killed for being a Casanova or for trying to steal someone else’s copper axe head.

This leads me to wonder: If I died in a way that left me preserved to be found 5,300 years from now, what would they conclude about me? If Paul McCartney were preserved 40 feet away in one direction and Bill Conlan 40 feet away in the other, what would the archeologists of the year 7306 conclude about us?

Our stomach contents might be basically the same. I guess that as a matter of principle Sir Paul doesn’t wear leather, so his shoes would be different — a little more high tech than mine. The archeologists could probably approximate our ages and heights. But could they tell what accents we spoke with? Could they tell from McCartney’s calluses how he made his living? Would they have any hint he was famous? Would they conclude that Bill, with his white beard, was a king? Would they know how Bill voted or even that early humans voted in his day? Would they know that McCartney’s bank account was exponentially fatter than mine and Bill’s put together or that banks existed back then? Would they know that I used Mac and Bill used Windows?

It’s amusing³ to wonder what future archeologists might conclude about us if our stories were reduced down to a few insights garnered from teeth, carcass, clothing, stomach contents, and a few immediate possessions found in the vicinity. They probably would get much of it wrong, and have very little idea who we were. But I probably won’t have the honor of being thus preserved, so it’s a bit of a moot point.

But here’s why I find it amusing to think about: I understand that some Buddhists carry around a picture of a skeleton⁴ as a reminder that we are alive only temporarily. Buddhism, like every "ism" or "ity" or "(d)ogma" I’ve ever seen, is far too abstruse and contrived for me, but carrying the skeleton picture is probably an insightful, if not morbid, practice. I prefer to think of the "ice man" occasionally as I go about my day.

The ice man is a good reminder that much about me — from the car I drive, to the technology I use, to the hat I wear, to the words I speak — is ephemeral. At one level, my phone bill or my haircut or my diploma don’t say anything at all about who I am.

I’ve published a book. Will there be any trace of it in 53 years? Hmm, possibly. In 5,300 years? Almost certainly not. But I wonder what might have more potential to tell something about who I was in 5,300 years — words typed on a word processor or a bronze sculpture I might make? The fleeting electrons might actually win out over the solid bronze.

I like to think of the "ice man," especially while going on walks in the Minnesota seasons. It gives me something to wonder about. It also makes me watch out for all the modern day "arrowheads" out there. Walk carefully, folks, and make something lasting.

¹ His arm remains stiffly in that position today. Maybe his silhouette would make a good iPod ad?

² Just kidding about the iPod earphones. But thanks for noticing. It’s attentive readers like you I like the most.

³ To me at least.

⁴ Some tape them to the backs of their iPods.