Written history begins around 3000 B.C.
10,000 years ago we were, well, pretty primitive. Definitely prehistoric. Some would say we still are - especially if we have to resort to this particularly dangerous and ultimately very costly form of energy. So, assuming a non-continuous culture - which is a fairly safe assumption for anyone who has read History - how shall we warn our descendants - or the lucky descendants of the next species to inherit the earth - that the stuff we've buried is better off left in the ground?
This place is not a place of honor.
editor's comment: It is a place without honor, then? I am surprised they'd admit it.
No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here.
Quite right! The history of our dealings in nuclear power of all sorts is marked by evil consequences - and too often - by evil deeds.
Nothing valued is here.
Valued!!? No - greatly feared and with very good reasons. This is a deadly poison. And not only for those who might dig it up, but for their children. . . . . and their children. And the animals and vegetables you depend upon for food.This is terrible stuff, and it isn't even the worst stuff we have - some of it will be killer for 250,000 years. For all the trouble we've gone to to mark its location, and protect it from time and the elements, however, you might be forgiven if you thought something of value WAS buried here. It's a conundrum.
This place is a message and part of a system of messages.
Say WHAT??!! That doesn't even make sense in our own time to a native speaker of English! ;b>
Please don't ask me to explain what 'English' is - please?
Pay attention to it!
Ummmmm...........pay attention to what exactly? It's not as if the 'message' is coherent!
Sending this message was important to us.
Though not important enough to actually say something.
We considered ourselves to be a powerful culture.
(Note the past tense and the modifications: 'we considered ourselves. . .') Yet we had nothing better to do with our most deadly by-products than to leave them for you. . . . . whoever you are. And we kept on making them, even though we hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with them.
So we were powerful, but unutterably dumb.