The State of the Art

by MHD

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 6259

A collection of stories about science, rational thought, geopolitics and eternal life.

I can't believe there is no [Science-Fiction] tag!

Where did ponies come from? Why are there multiple sapient races? Why does Celestia raise the sun? How does Pinkie Pie work? What are the limitations of Twilight's Magic? What is Harmony? Who is Discord? Where exactly is Prance and Trottingham? What exactly does the Pie family do for a living? Whence Cometh traditions that does natures job? What is so special about the Everfree? How do you hold a pen with Hoves? What are the socio-economical implications of Celestia and Luna's plans? Why do dragons eat gemstones? What's the deal with Cutiemarks?

A series of short stories seeks to exposit on all of this.

Recursive fanfiction of The Great Alicorn Hunt by RealityCheck.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-18 14:05:53 UTC

Star Crater's fifth dialogue on magic, with Celeste

Translation by Bendy Jovia. 1772 Anno Diarchem. Original document from Diaries and Memoirs and Dialogues of Princess Celestia. Written 51 Before Diarchy.

T’was one sunny day of early spring. I had went to the market place and there I met Star Crater.

Star Crater was as usual going about his business of biting like a horse-fly. He bit all those who thought they knew the truth and proclaimed such. Politicians and unicorn mages as well as sages and traders.

He saw me and I went to him. And he welcomed me for my sister and I were his faithful and trusted students.

We had a dialogue thus.

Star Crater. Good day Celeste my student.

I. Good day Star Crater.

Star Crater. How fare thou?

I. I fare well thank thee. Who are you out biting today dear teacher?

Star Crater. Oh this morning I met a trader who was convinced that she knew the meaning of good and evil.

I. Do tell what did she say?

Star Crater. She said that what was good is what is and how things are. That things are how they are and that is good. That pegasi be warriors and unicorns be scholars and heppos be farmers and traders. That war and famine and sickness is evil.

I. Do tell what did you reply?

Star Crater. I replied that I had a student who was a scholar yet had wings and that I had a friend who was a trader yet had a horn. I then said that sometimes war is very necessary and that sickness and famine lie outside of ponies hooves.

I. Did she have a reply to that?

Star Crater. Indeed she did. But all that ever got her was a deeper hole. I merely handed her a spade and told her where to dig.

I. Thou art a good conversationalist.

Star Crater. Thank you. Actually I have a thing I would like to discuss.

I. I have time to talk.

Star Crater. You and I are both good at magic are we not?

I. Yes. My dear sister too. Although I guess we are both more capable than thou dear teacher.

Star Crater. I am a unicorn and magic is my tribes birthright. You were once unicorns too.

I. Aye.

Star Crater. We speak of magic and perform magic with ease and grace do we not?

I. That is correct.

Star Crater. Now. I conjecture that it is not in fact only unicorns who posess magic.

I. I do not understand nor agree.

Star Crater. Have thou seen the birds celeste?

I. I do not normally look at birds teacher. I fail to see what that has to do with magic.

Star Crater. Have thou seen that birds have little claws for hanging on to branches?

I. Yes.

Star Crater. And that birds of prey grip their prey in their claws and hold it fast?

I. Yes I have seen birds of prey.

Star Crater. Have you seen a mother cat? A mother cat will carry her young with her mouth. Quite gently.

I. I have seen so.

Star Crater. Now. Ponies are more akin to cats than they are birds are they not?

I. Well. Pegasi have wings and do fly but thou did not talk about the wings of birds thou asked about their talons. Ponies are not akin to birds in that they do not have talons.

Star Crater. So dearest celeste. How does thou hold a stylus?

I. I wield a stylus with my magics.

Star Crater. Yes. How does thou hold papyrus?

I. With my hoof.

Star Crater. So we ponies are unlike the birds in that we do not have talons. But we are like the birds in that we can hold objects with our hooves like a bird holds with talons. Is this not curious?

I. It is indeed curious.

Star Crater. So now that we have established a curious property of thine hooves we may see if it applies otherwise. Have thou seen a merchant load a cart with produce?

I. I have.

Star Crater. How does a merchant go about that?

I. She takes items of produce with her hooves and put them in the cart.

Star Crater. Indeed. Yet one also see merchants carry items in their teeth does one not?

I. That is true.

Star Crater. When thou said you held your stylus. Thou said it was held with magic.

I. Yes.

Star Crater. The hoof is very different from the talons of a bird. Is it not?

I. Indeed it is.

Star Crater. Now if one looks at the talons of a bird they have claws and digits. The digits grasp around the prey and the claws skewer into the flesh. This prevents the prey from escaping the birds grasp.

I. That is morbid but true.

Star Crater. Could a talon not also hold papyrus?

I. I suppose it could.

Star Crater. The hoof is much unlike the talon in shape is it not?

I. It is.

Star Crater. How so?

I. It has neither digits nor claws with which to hold.

Star Crater: So how does a hoof hold things?

I. I confess that is unknown to me.

Star Crater. Then let me give you the answer. By magic.

I. Oh. Yes that does make sense.

Star Crater. Every pony has hooves that can hold things despite not having digits and claws for grasping. Thus the only cause of holding must be magic.

I. That must indeed be true.

Star Crater. The gift of the unicorns lie in greater and further reaching magic. But all ponies have magic.

I. You are most wise my dear teacher.

Star Crater. Now we must at a convenient time tell your sister. This is important wisdom.

I. Aye. I will tell her to seek you when I meet her again.

Who is the equal of a Chaos Spirit?

From the perspective of an ant, the world is an interesting place. One might come wandering along the pheromone trail when suddenly nearby a lions paw treads down into the underbrush. Then on the alternating step, a dragons foot, and then when you suspect it is over you nearly get wafted away by a bunch of feathers.

It is not often that the chaos spirit has appointments, but there is one (1) being in this world who is able to make him commit to predictable future actions. The only one he fears.

With a hop, a skip and a jump, Discord clears a fallen oak and arrives in a meadow.

The forest is old. Mortals have started cutting into some of the smaller ones --- nearer the plains where the ponyfolk live --- but they will never master such grand nature as this. It is truly the old forest.

In the meadow is a single large tree, an oak so old as the forest itself. Underneath it is a cave. The magic in the air sings to Discords senses like faint whispers. Where he steps the blades of grass turn random colours of the rainbow and snails seem to sprout from the soil.

She knows he is there. Discord knows she knows, not that a chaos spirit has any business hiding --- there isn’t an opponent he cannot outwit --- but he takes comfort in the awkward game of introduction-chicken.

“Good Evening,” --- it is high noon --- “are you just gonna stay holed up like that all day?”

A rumble can be heard underneath the oak. From the entrance to the cave slides an enormous snake-like being. The head of a snake -- only a wide as a cider keg -- torso like an elephant and double the arms of a mountain troll, yet still endowed with a feminine grace. Her tail extends deep into the cave even as she slithers out from under the shade of the tree.

“Discord, my friend. How pleasant it is to see you. And on time.”

“Sheviper, the pleasure is all mine.”

The size difference is staggering --- not that it matters to a chaos spirit who changes size and shape like the weather in spring --- and Sheviper rests herself down on her belly and elbows.

“Well?”

She remains silent, smiling.

“Look; you called me here, and seeing as you haven’t exactly made preparations for a picnic, I assume you want something from me, or have something I want so I will be in your debt.”

“I have grand news.”

“Prithee?”

“My children speak of another entity appearing. A powerful one like you or I. It seems we might have another peer in this world.”

Discord takes a seat in the thin air. “Oh. Well that is news.”

Sheviper perks up and scans the grass some distance away. With elegance and quiet that should be beyond her huge form she moves into position; and with a lightning quick swipe catches a rabbit.

“So what about this peer of ours?”

Sheviper slithers back to conversational distance. He notices that her entire length has left the cave.

“I know of their existence precisely because they explicitly told my children to inform me of their presence.”

“Oh. What do you chalk that sort of thing up to? Mind reading?”

“I don’t know ---” with a twist of two fingers she kills the rabbit “--- my children are only most places, not everywhere. And our peer is elusive.”

“So you want me to go and stalk them out?”

“I would appreciate it. You know how I am against travel,” she says and swallows the dead rabbit whole.

“You will owe me a boon, Sheviper, and I will collect it at one point.”

“Agreed.”

Discord disappears with an audible plop and leaves behind bubbles.

In another forest, halfway across the world, the snow is falling, in the midnight.

Were he mortal, Discord would shiver with the cold. Instead he is enveloped in magenta luminescence.

It is dark and he wants to make himself noticed, more so than usual.

The thing about being an avatar of chaos is that the unlikely is bound to happen, not just in the edge case, but as a matter of course. Discord knows he is in the right spot, exactly because he had no idea where he jumped to, when he departed from a sunny meadow.

A magenta gleam of reflection is briefly visible in between the trees.

Discord does not call out. There isn’t a need to; he know he is seen and he knows that the observer knows that he has seen the observer.

From the darkness, a long and slender claw emerges. The talons are long, straight and blunt and the paw is clad in black scales. The limb it is attached to has long, greasy, blue fur that hangs like the leaves of a willow.

It is a foreleg. Another one, similar but opposing treads next to the first. There is a feline grace to the display.

The reflection was cast by a white, almost spherical orb, polished to high shine. It only occurs to Discord that it is indeed a head, when it smiles with more razor sharp teeth than a middle sized family. There are no features other than that mouth. The neck is like a giraffes, but held low and clad in the same dirty blue fur.

“Curious.” They both say in lockstep. It’s voice is smooth and melodious.

“I suspect introductions are in order,” It says.

Discord stares at the sickly looking creature, half again as large as he.

“You are Discord, Spirit of Chaos, bringer of mirth.”

“Oh, naturally you know that. I do wear a nametag.”

Scrape twists his neck down and another claw from a previously hidden hind-leg scratches it.

“How dull," drawls Discord, "so you go around doing what, exactly?”.

“I learn.”

“I do as pleases me.”

“So do I --- and let me tell you --- I do not enjoy your company half as much as my own. I am here ---”

“Because the Mother sent you. I know.”

“--- so I can politely ask you to stop finishing my sentences --- hilarious as it may be --- and tell me what I want to know, which I know for a fact that you know that I know you know and that you do in fact know; you know?”

“... I know what you want to know, yes. I also know that what you need to know is not that.”

“I don’t compose, I play by ear. I am stronger and older than you, and I can make you talk if I want to. The fact that I don’t need your cooperation should incline you to cooperate to avoid the consequences. You know this.”

“I want no enmity with neither you nor Sheviper. I wish to trade on occasion when we have comparative advantages, but also mostly to be left alone.”

“You are unpleasant, but at least you aren’t unpleasant. Have a nice summer.”

And with that remark, Discord’s form transforms into a straw doll in his likeness. Pi seconds later it spontaneously combusts.

“A chaos spirit. Sure gives me a run for my money. Well now I was in the process of deciding how to eat you.”

Scrape turns back towards his victim.

What's In A Name?

(Excerpt from Shakes Pear’s seventh play, On the Haunch. Modern translation)

IN THIS SCENE

The Pegasus Noblemare Lexa

The Noblemare’s Pegasus Daughter Pawen

Starswirl the Bearded

An Equus Coltservant

In a lounge of the small court of The Noblemare.

[Lexa reclines on a futon]

[Enter Starswirl]

Lexa:

Scholar Starswirl, I am so pleased you have time for me.

[Lexa rises from the futon]

Starswirl:

I enjoy your company, dear Lexa.

Lexa:

It is fortuitous of you to come, I have a question.

Starswirl:

Ask away. I am a scholar, if not for answers what is my profession?

Lexa:

As you know I have a daughter. She is of that special age when there is only one thing on her mind.

[Lexa sits down again on the futon]

        Starswirl:

Colts?

[Starswirl sits on a pillow]

        Lexa:

Cutiemarks.

        Starswirl:

Oh, right.

        Lexa:

She is soon to turn another year and is anxious to get her cutiemark. I reassure her that it will come someday. I try to coax her into doing what she loves and is good at, but in her desperation she forgets even that and goes about with every new idea she has.

        Starswirl:

Indeed a terrible predicament. Aye, I remember when you yourself was but a filly. You were a late bloomer too. But look what you grew into.

        Lexa:

Oh you old, lewd stallion. Spare me of your flattery.

        Starswirl:

So your daughter is faffing about instead of..?

        Lexa:

She has a talent with the noble art of chess and strategy. I am sure you have played with her once.

        Starswirl:

Oh indeed I did, it was quite the battle for someone half a century my minor.

        Lexa:

She so enjoyed reading great works of military strategy and my husband has brought her trinkets and figurines and maps to make a war table for her.

[Enter stage The Coltservant]

        Coltservant:

Milady, I think you should know that your daughter is swimming in the fountain in the garden.

        Lexa:

Thank you, kindly go pick her out of there and dry her up.

        Coltservant:

Yes ma’am.

[Exit stage The Coltservant]

        Lexa:

You see what I have to contend with?

        Starswirl:

Yes, I imagine she lightens the mood with laughter every day.

        Lexa:

My question is this: What manner of magic is the cutie mark? Can something be done about it? Can I help her? Can you?

        Starswirl:

Ah. That is a delicate matter. It is only from my working with our Princess that I know what to even say; bless the mare of the sun.

        Lexa:

Oh. Is this such a mystery that not even you, wisest wizard, could unravel it? Forgive me for asking, had I known it was this difficult I would have had more respect.

        Starswirl:

It is fine dear Lexa. The Princess believes that the cutiemark is an ancient spell. Far older than the ancient Celestine Empire. Far older than ancient realms of Neighgypt. Older than history itself.

        Lexa:

And I thought you were an old fart.

[Starswirl pauses to look sternly at Lexa]

        Starswirl:

I would have you know that our fair Princess is so much my senior that just last month she called me a colt. But to get back on topic.

[Enter stage Pawen, in a foul mood]

        Pawen:

Mother! You said I had permission to explore my talents!

        Lexa:

Not by swimming in the fountain, for Maker’s sake!

        Pawen:

But if I don’t learn how to swim, how will I know if swimming is my talent?

        Lexa:

Dearest, I have told you that---

        Starswirl:

Good day m’lady Pawen. I hear you are trying to attain your cutiemark?

        Pawen:

Good day scholar Starswirl. I am not trying to find my cutiemark, I am arguing with my mother.

        Starswirl:

Do you think you might get a cutiemark pertaining to mother-daughter arguments?

        Lexa:

Starswirl, you are very much interrupting me scolding my daughter!

        Starswirl:

I am interrupting your daughter interrupting my exposition of your daughters issue with an argument with you about you interrupting your daughter in exploring her talents with which you have an issue.

        Lexa:

Yes. Obviously.

        Starswirl:

So would it not be adequate to acquaint myself with your daughters issue from your daughters viewpoint as opposed to silently accept your opposition of your daughters effort to acquaint herself with aquaeus pursuits?

        Pawen:

I think so too mother.

        Starswirl:

And in this intteruption of opposition I interrogate your daughter for information on her efforts towards a forecoming transformation, formative in curriculum vitae and familiarity with ones own exceptionality, which I find to be fitting conversation instead of arguments about interruptions of oppositions in the middle of expositions.

[Lexa and Pawen stare briefly at Starswirl]

        Lexa:

My talents lie in both law and lexica, yet all I have to say is: What?

        Starswirl:

I would rather talk to your daughter about her endeavour to gain a cutiemark than you two bicker.

        Pawen:

Why on earth didn’t you just say that. I have been up to all sorts of things and adventures but mother says most of them are improper for a noble family’s heiress.

        Starswirl:

Do you now Lexa?

        Lexa:

She was swimming in the fountain!

        Starswirl:

I seem to remember a certain young noble heiress doing the same some twenty-five summers ago.

        Lexa:

Just because I once did it doesn’t make it right to do so.

        Starswirl:

And yet children tend to do as you do, rather than as you tell them to do. [To Pawen] Say what, m’lady Pawen, would you like to meet me for tea and a game of chess?

        Pawen:

I would love to, I can only hope my mother thinks it is becoming of an heiress!

[Lexa and Pawen glare at one another]

[Exit stage Pawen in flight]

        Lexa:

She is so much like myself.

        Starswirl:

Yes, unfortunately.

[Beat]

        Lexa:

Wait. What do you mean by unfortunately?

[Fall Curtains]

Introduction to Quantumthaumodynamics (QTD) by Dr. Kelpie, lecture 43

Dr. Kelpie is a stallion of punctuality. Today is not a day in his favour.

The weather is terrible, he can deal with cold wind, he can shrug off icy rain, and even a rainstorm is not an obstacle to him. But it is a bit much with an icy rainstorm; it does not set a good mood for a day at the faculty.

And in addition to that he has overslept, and is running fifteen minutes late.

The auditorium he has booked is one he usually likes: old, not too big, creaky floorboards to discourage tardiness. Today that bites him in the haunch.

He enters through the vomitorium, and the floorboards betray his presence. He trots to the podium and tosses his raincoat on the desk before opening his saddlebag.

A slight murmur passes through the sixty-odd students.

Kelpie lifts a piece of chalk and with a swipe of his horn, orders it to start writing down the lecture programme in the right side of the large blackboard. He shuffles through a few notes, before picking up another piece of chalk.

The murmurs die out.

Kelpie begins writing out a lengthy field equation — a complicated Long-Rangean — with all the known quantum fields and a few fudge factors and measurement tensors. Electroweak fields, Hickory field… So far is ordinary quantum field theory. Then he adds a new term.

“If any of you have been paying a remote amount of attention somewhere in my last thirty lectures, and if you listened at all in the perquisite QFT course, this formula should only have one curious element —” Kelpie taps the new term with the chalk “— this is where it starts to get interesting; this is what the name of this course is about. Thaumically significant interaction.

“It is a property of every fundamental quanta in the standard model. Quantum objects have position, spin, electrical charge, weak charge, colour charge, hickory interaction and thaumic interaction. From the whole thing you know how to derive energy and thus at large scales gravitational interaction —” Kelpie turns to jot down the standard model: Six quarks, three electron-like leptons, three neutrinos, the two mass-less force carriers and the two weak carriers. “— so far so standard.”

The joke receives scattered laughter.

“Most of you are unicorns, which means you have very deliberate experience with magic, a few of you are pegasi and you might know a thing or two, equis, few as you are in this class, you have the definite advantage.

The students exchange strange looks.

“Most of you were not versed in quantum theory before you took this class. I am certain that the double slit and interferometer experiments came as a surprise to you and now is not the time for me to drone on about the importance of training your intuitions, as I did in lecture 19.

“I will repeat that to understand this — to use this — it is imperative that you do not make assumptions. Stick with the maths or you will find trouble in your further studies one day.”

Kelpie turns to the blackboard and adds four additional boxes. Unthaum, caloric thaum, potent thaum and harmon.

“Quantum-thaumodynamics is incomplete. The classes of quarks and leptons have six quanta, we still haven't found proof of the conjectured gravity-quantum, and there are still interactions undescribed by the four thaumic quanta. Furthermore there is still unsolved problems everywhere in the interface between what we see in the equuscopic world and what we measure in the microscopic world.

“It is still not well-explained how the Born rule works. We know that the probability of an interaction is for some reason linked to the modulus of the relative amplitude. Most physicists believe in the Many-Minds interpretation: that this probability is not an inherent quality of the universe, but that it is a consequence of how the physicist’s mind is a quantum system in and off itself. The mystery of the Born rule applies to QTD as well.

“While it is well understood that the other quantum effects almost disappear on the macroscopic level where — because energy is equal to Plank’s constant times wavelength — objects have high mass-energy and thus almost infinitesimal wavelengths, it is still not understood how the interactions of thaums actually become the magic visible on the macroscopic level.

“Some of you might be taking the excellent course in introductory thaumodynamics — lectured by my excellent colleague Dr. Pooka — and you will notice that the mandatory course in tensor algebra you had last year, really doesn't have much application in that field.

“I can also tell you that it is conjectured that interstellar magical energy is responsible for the phenomenon known as Dark Matter. Cosmological studies is however not a part of this faculty.

“What is known in thaumodynamics is that the ambient energies of magic behaves like a compressible flow under non-extreme circumstances. This is a significant statement because it allows us to make predictions, and” — Kelpie turns to the blackboard — “it gives us a property to derive. Let us get started with the properties of the two first thaumic carriers, the Untham and the Harmon…”

What follows is a classical lecture with Dr. Kelpie: so quickly from one conclusion to the next, that most of the students later have to piece together the facts from their notes, and with three pieces of chalk writing formulae in different colours and with annotations. At least his writing is near perfect.

When he finally arrives at the Navy-Strokes equation — three blackboards later — there are only a few minutes left of the allotted time and Kelpie gives out reading assignments. Another fifty-odd pages of difficult maths and qualitative analysis of experiments.

“That would be all. Until next time,” Kelpie says as he begins packing his saddlebag.

Chatter rises. A few minutes later the auditorium is empty. A few minutes later again a new class of students start arriving.

How you trained your Dragon.

Spike wakes, stretches and breathes a small plume of smoke. Yawns an bares a maw with more teeth than a middle sized family. He rises from his nest — a bed of gold coins in a basin in the floor — and trots out of his small barn house.

From snout to tail tip he measures about seven pony lengths. He has shrugged off the puppy fat long since and is now a sleek, lean, athletic thing. His paws has grown too big to properly hold a pen, but his adoptive mother fixed that for him too.

He goes up to the main building, twilights house, and addresses a butler golem standing on the terrace to fetch him some breakfast and a couple of books. One thing he hasn't lost with age is his love of slacking off.

Mind you, Spike isn't lazy. He does good work as a diplomat to the dragon tribes in the north, and holds the recommendatory favour of the Diarch of the Sun. No, many would agree that spending a summers day sunbathing in the park and reading a good book is an excellent use of ones time.

At a quarter past noon, halfway through a popular-scientific work on economics, twilight lands next to him in the park.

"Hi spike," she says in her usual cheerful tone.

"Hello twilight," he answers in his baritone rumble.

She preens a feather in her wing.

"How is life treating you?" He asks, not looking up from the book.

"Oh, you know, same old. Research, politics, the works."

"Good, good."

Small talk is a pleasant reprise from all the heavy matters. They have a silent acknowledgement that they don't talk about work unless they are actually working, more for Twi's sake. She is still the same nerdy filly she was a century ago, she needs breaks from her work. Alicorn resilience or not stress is dangerous.

Spike puts down his book and curls slightly, to give of an air of attention.

"How are the others?"

"Oh, they are fine. Fluttershy is getting married."

"Give her my congratulations."

She nods and asks, "how are your studies?"

"I am brushing up on economy," he points at the book with a sheepish smile.

"Going for another masters degree?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe just a bachelor."

"That makes your seventh degree, right?"

"Yup."

"Dragon memory, huh? I am so envious."

He pokes her in the side with his tail and they laugh.

"So, how's the family?"

"Oh spike, you are family. You live right next to us."

"Yeah, I guess I am. Actually..."

"What is it."

"It might be a little... no... What I want to say is: thank you Twilight. Thank you for raising me. I think you did well."

They share a moment of silent sincerity.

"Oh, spike. Thank you for letting me."

He leans forward towards her and they share a brief nuzzle. There are no tears, for the times for tears of joy has passed. There is only joy and warmth.

"I'd better get going, Spike. Have fun!" She takes to the skies with grace, and he waves after her.

Spike returns to reading his book, feeling a little better than good. His reading is briefly interrupted when he feels someone sending him a scroll by dragon fire; he accedes the pressure and breathes a small green flame which folds up into an envelope.

He opens it and reads:

Honoured Spike esquire.

It is my pleasure to invite you to the two-hundred and sixty-fifth Sapients' Rights Conference of Broncselles, Balkium, as a representative of the dragon species. If you are interested in attending, please reply to this letter and arrangements will be made.

— Razorboule, official Dragonic diplomat of Equestria, in HED Celestia's service.

PS. Please, oh please come, Spike. It's going to be awesome. Love you, miss you, hope you are having a nice holiday.

With a smile he pulls forth paper and a pen, not to leave his significant other waiting.

"An international conference. This is going to be interesting," he murmurs to himself.

Ms. Clementine ph.d. talking at the 1993 Sapient Rights Conference of Broncselles.

It is mid afternoon summer air of Prance is arid. The next slot on schedule is a short talk on race issues, to warm up the audiences to bigger issues. The introducer is a charismatic pegasus with sleek hair and a smooth voice.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, our next speaker is Darling Clementine, professor of Linguistics from Canterlot University. She is here to talk about tribalism and language.”

A dark orange mare walks onto the stage. Her cutiemark is a quill held to the tongue. “Thank you.”

Her voice is amplified by the acoustic horn that is the back of the stage. She takes the lectern and consults her speaking notes.

“Good afternoon. I am honoured to have a speaking slot at a conference in Broncselles, it is a pleasure to be here. I would like to talk to you all about some issues present in most of the worlds languages.

“Tribalism is the practice of discriminating against pony individuals on the basis of tribe. It is something which most states --- including Equestria --- has explicit laws against. It is also considered bad form in many cultures.

“Tribalistic views has been prominent throughout history, there has been eras of separation --- especially pegasi, who have the ability to reside far away from the other tribes --- where sections of the pony populace formed tribal groups, fighting and demonizing other tribes.

“Notably the winter of windigos in the middle of the thirteenth century. I trust those of you tangentially familiar with equestrian history to know what tragedy that was.

“The issue I have in mind today is how Liguia Franca has several built in terms of phrase which influence our way of thinking.

“According to the Sapphire-Wolf theory, language is a platform for thought. An expression of culture. To learn a language is not to acquire a new way of communicating, it is acquiring a whole new worldview.

“And what the language contains affects the worldview of the learner. At its core we find… Earth Ponies.

“Pegasi and Unicorns are terms of the Celestine Empire, of antiquity. When the Diarchs ruled an empire spanning much of Equuropa. They are noble and inspiring names that taste of ancient language and culture.

“Earth pony is a term that has it’s ethymology in the philosophical works of the Darkened ages. In the old theories of alchemy around the twelfth century. A dull and incorrect early attempt at explaining the nature of magic, which nonetheless grew very popular with the Nobles.

“This particular work of alchemy assigned the three shaping elements: earth, fire and wind, to each of the pony tribes: earth ponies, fire ponies and wind ponies. It made prejudiced and nonsensical assumptions about the demeanors of each tribe and was especially popular with unicorns, to a lesser degree pegasi.

Clementine takes a draught of water from a glass on the lectern.

“This trend of prejudice became prevalent up through the twelfth century, and was unfortunately brought along in the migration fever.

“In the twelfth century, the economic situation was dire in Equuropa. There were plagues, the Diarchs had not only left Equuropa but rumours were circulating of them turning on one another. The new world had lost a city, and the noble families got richer as the common ponyfolk grew poorer.

“A migration wave took place, funded by lower standing noble families that faced persecution for various political reasons. And somehow, in the tribal segregation that followed, ‘Earth Pony’ became the accepted term while ‘Pegasus’ and ‘Unicorn’ remained.

“Then under the rule of Celestia, Equestria grew to be a powerful economy and today international relations of any kind is presumed to require that one speaks Linguia Franca.

“So we are stuck with a widespread term, which is mildly discriminating towards one of the tribes. And there even exists a perfectly good term: Equis for plural, Equus for singular. Medical professionals use it alongside Pegasus and Unicorn. It exists in our language but we have forgotten to use it.

“Just the other week I read a publication on the abilities of Equis. There is magic inherent in every pony tribe, unicorns have the arcane arts, pegasi have the wonders of the skies to show, but it turns out that Equis are just plain in synch with nature.

“The reason why Equis make so wonderful farmers, is simply a fact of their magic. A magic aligned with life. This is bleeding edge research in magical theory, but there is evidence that Equis do indeed have a quite powerful --- if subtle --- magic.

“This is but one of the problems of tribalism present in our language. I have given this talk many times, but I have yet to hear someone use the word ‘equis’ or ‘equus’  in speech.

“I hope that I will one day be spoken of as such. Thank you for your time.

The charismatic pegasus trots back onto stage as Clementine leaves the lectern. “A big thanks to Ms. Clementine of Canterlot University.”

The applause is modest but the feeling in the audience positive, as Clementine leaves the stage.

She is met by her husband backstage. They exchange a kiss and leave for an early dinner out in the city. There will be interesting talks all night and they do not intend to miss them.

"I need Masculism Because..." a museum exhibition on contemporary gender issues in Equestria.

There are over three hundred photographs of ponies, all of them paired with a statement. There is murmur and chatter in the museum halls, and the media coverage is 25% of a full blown furor.

[An elderly pegasus stallion]

I need masculism because my brother was drafted, and when he died in action I was told I should honor him by doing the same.

[An equus stallion]

I need masculism because every time I stand up for my rights, people say: "He's being agressive because of hormones."

[A unicorn stallion]

I need masculism because I am expected not to show my emotions.

[A pegasus mare]

I need masculism because I am a trans mare, and I am ostracised because of it.

[An unicorn stallion]

I need masculism because I know that this exhibition will have ponies calling all of us "demanding" and "unreasonable" and tell us to "man up."

[A young pegasus stallion]

I need masculism because I was sexually assaulted and ponies congratulated me.

[A middle-aged unicorn stallion]

I need masculism because there are under ten percent Stallions in management positions.

[A young equus stallion]

I need masculism because I am gay, and every day I meet ponies who can't understand that I am not attracted to mares.

[A notable masculinist speaker]

I need masculism because every time we oppress Stallions, we oppress Mares in equal measure in the opposite direction. It's like Newte Tonne's third law of gender oppression.

[A middle aged unicorn stallion]

I need masculism because I am divorced, my ex-wife got unconditional custody, and now I can't see my foals.

[A young equus stallion]

I need masculism because I am expected to have sex with lots of mares.

[A middle-aged pegasus stallion]

I need masculism because my wife gets taken more seriously than me with my own arguments than I do.

[A young equus mare]

I need masculism because when I talk with my ladyfriends about my guyfriends I get asked if I have had sex with them yet.

[A middle-aged unicorn mare]

I need masculism because herds are still socially acceptable, having one stallion to many mares. I never had a bond with my father, he was the husband of six, a father of fifteen.

[A young unicorn stallion]

I need masculism because when I have my mane cut long, I get asked if I am gay.

[A young pegasus mare]

I need masculism because the movement has political capital and fights for LGBT rights.

"So, Ms. Amranth, why did you choose to make this exhibition?"

"Because masculism is relevant."

"Why is it relevant?"

"Because you are asking me this question."