THE PENCIL
GARDENS OF SKRIPTON
The
people of Skripton were once renowned for their
exemplary penmanship and the role that autography played in their
culture. Even
their legal documents were generated by hand, and labels on commercial
items
were photo/mechanical reproductions of some artisan's manuscript. Among
the
most respected professions in the community was that of sign painter.
Many of
their billboards were hand-painted originals, some of which were
appreciated
for their artistic merit and personal style.
But as inevitably happens, new communication technologies were invented and evolved, gradually supplanting the old manual methods. This brought with it many benefits, and enriched Skriptonian society and culture in countless ways - but at a price. Though it took considerable time, eventually the old ways disappeared completely. First the art deteriorated, then the skill, and after that the knowledge. Finally the tools themselves became so unfamiliar as to be rendered useless. For generations there was hardly a pencil to be found on Skripton, and those few ancient relics that remained were far from sharp, most of them broken. Not to mention the erasers, which may as well have been petrified. And the Skriptonians themselves had by that time forgotten how to write, most of them having never even learned.
However, there were a few of the eldest of the elders who remembered the experience of writing, and some still possessed letters and diaries penned by their ancestors and handed down through the family. One such elder, having happened upon an assortment of such documents and relics in his attic, was intrigued and decided to try his hand at mimicking the faded script. Alas, the implement broke almost immediately on contact with the writing surface. No wonder. It was a Koh-I-Noor Rapidomatic, 0.77 mm with the lead extended a little too far, and he had pressed too hard. But, inspired rather than discouraged, he gathered a council of elders, and before long a research and development program was underway, to the purpose of recovering the lost art, beginning with its fundamental tools. And so it was that the Pencil Gardens Of Skripton came to be.
Even as some relatively small geographical areas are blessed
with unique combinations and interactions of topography, climate, and
soil
conditions as to make them ideally suited to raising specific crops,
such as
pinot noir grapes, conditions on Skripton were conducive to growing
pencils.
Pens they never had much luck with, but with a few well-preserved good
quality
examples to base their work on, along with incredible ingenuity and a
little
dumb luck, after a few discouraging seasons the Skriptonians managed to
establish several pencil gardens that really took hold, and continued
to
thrive. Before too long they had quite a variety to choose from, in
all sorts of colors, like flowers. Even special blue ones that you
could write
with, but the writing would not photocopy. Carpenter pencils did quite
well,
especially the Timberlines, as did the Mirados with colorful erasers in
goofy
shapes that appeal to kids. The Papermates died almost immediately, and
the
Skriptonians gave up on them just as quickly. One special plot, planted
by a
finnicky local composer, raised only the Dixon Ticonderoga No. 2 soft,
the only
pencil with a good eraser.
It was
discovered that the pencils did even better when
spoken to, and so many Skriptonian gardeners took to talking to their
pencils.
Some said they could almost hear their pencils talking back, and even
crying.
Mechanical pencils didn't do as well at first, but there became a growing demand for them in certain circles. Talking didn't seem to do the trick, so gardeners of that variety turned to nurturing them with primitive electronic music, with good success.
But somehow, no matter what was planted or how they were
nurtured, all the pencils in the gardens of Skripton finally matured
into the
same thing – those really big ones you start out with in kindergarten,
that are
especially easy for small hands to hold. That's what the elders placed
their
hope in - that someday, eventually, the children would learn to write.