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Joseph Conrad Payne

Museum

Susquehannock Family
New York, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Delaware
Circa 1200 - December 1763

Now extinct, the Susquehannock were a river people of unclear origin. They were said to have told European settlers that they came from a river far to the east, but no records of their people have been found in that area. 

These models represent how they may have looked. You might notice how strong they look—even the man’s wife and his child, and you might appreciate how carefully our artists have sculpted the curvature of their muscles. You might also notice how our artists have simulated expertly their customarily fur clothing with cloth. Susquehannock society revolved around the fur trade, as they traded furs for firearms in order to survive the many wars fought in the days of early contact. The last of the Susquehannock were killed off in December 27, 1763, by a pair of Irish settlers known as the Paxton boys, who were concerned with the safety of the colonies.

Even so, you are not likely to find these models terribly interesting. Your children, if you have any, even less so. These are, after all, just people—even if the models’ sightless, glassy eyes make them seem less and less real. 

Diorama of the Giza Necropolis 
Cairo, Egypt
2560 BCE

This scene depicts what the construction of the great pyramids might have looked like. According to estimations, it would have taken twenty years to build just one pyramid! The causeways connecting the three pyramids—which, in our diorama, have not even began construction—would have taken another ten years. Contrary to popular belief, it is now theorized that this work was not accomplished by slaves, by primarily by Egyptian citizens: young, able-bodied men from the villages and towns conscripted for a few years of their lives. In this they would have a purpose—temporarily—to build something greater than themselves, and then move on.

Notice also that the workers are pulling large wooden sleds across the sand. Recent discoveries show that this is likely how they transported the enormous stone blocks that made up the pyramids. In order to create the necessary friction, there was a man walking in front of each sled, pouring water on the earth to wet the ground and thus move the sleds. You think about that, as you watch our artificial lighting glint off each tiny man’s plastic back like a sheen of sweat: their chapped lips, the Egyptian sun, the brutal temperatures of the desert. Try to imagine it. Try to empathize. 

The pyramids themselves were used as tombs, housing for the royal dead. There has been debate lately over whether or not the pyramids might have functioned as giant, ancient solar panels—beacons to Ra, the Sun God, to generate power for the Egyptian world. This has been thoroughly debunked. Still, you might be more comfortable thinking that so many people—slaves or otherwise—didn’t die over an extravagant tombstone. Or maybe you are the sort of person who finds this poetic: the dead, the important dead, inside the pyramid, and outside the radiance of the sun, the ever-lasting burning of that bright star in the sky. In this case, you will ignore the fact the sun was younger then—much younger—because you want to find a sort of meaning in there, the pyramid, in that place so old and full of old things that it must contain some knowledge that you can inform your own life. You will think yourself bright for thinking of this: the cycle of life and death, of nothing ever truly not existing. After all, the pyramids still stand.

Hieroglyphic Depiction of Ammit
Aswan, Egypt
3000 BCE

This hieroglyph represents the Egyptian goddess Ammit. It has been etched into stone, and the original colors restored so that you may view that vibrant mix of fears conjured up by the ancient Egyptians. In case the artwork is too foreign to you, and you are unable to tell, Ammit has the scaled, reptilian head of a crocodile, the sun-burnt body of a lion, and the thick leathery carapace of a hippopotamus. Before the depiction of Ammit is a man, kneeling with his head bowed. You cannot say exactly why, but you know that the man is meant to look afraid.

For a long time, this old goddess puzzled scholars. But now, with the Rosetta stone and the rebirth of the Egyptian language, we know her function, and it is a simple one: execution. That is, the goddess was to act in one of two ways. She resided in the Hall of Two Truths, where Egyptians would go upon death to have their hearts weighed. The Egyptian heart, not unlike your heart, contains the essence of their soul, of their whole being. Anubis, the God of Death, would weigh their heart on the Scales of Justice. If the heart was pure, Ammit would step aside for the Egyptian to pass through into the eternal. If the heart was found to be impure, Ammit would then act accordingly, and devour the heart. This was a conclusive act. She was not worshipped. 

If you are here with someone, someone smarter than you—your spouse or your lover, perhaps—they might point out to you that this concept is truly terrifying. However, you may find it useful to say to the them that Ammit is not real.

Homo georgicus
Dmanisi, Georgia
Statherian Period (1.8 million years ago)
Height: 4 ft. tall   |   Weight: 150 lbs   |   Brain Volume: 600 cm2

Not much is known about this species. What we do know is that Homo georgicus represents a sort of in-between of the species Homo habilis and Homo erectus. Like its cousins, it is an early hominid. This should be evident enough to you. You would know, then, that hominids are what we evolved from. There is some debate about this, but not among the scientific community, and you, as not part of the scientific community, want to believe in that debate—to believe that this origin somehow isn’t true. You don’t want to be faced with the facts that make up your humanity, but then you should not have come here. Look at it: the squat, stinking thing. Or so you must think. Look at the protruding, pale jaw, the whole face jutting out; look at its overlarge, bulging arms; look how it has hands for feet. The hair around its naked breasts are so lifelike. Everyone—you, your son, your lover—they are all uncomfortable. They don’t want to believe it is human, either, but you cannot deny there is something distinctly human about it. Maybe it is this it: we have placed the skull, the only surviving piece of this animal, in its hands.

Tyrannosaurus Rex
Death Valley, Nevada
Upper Cretaceous Period (67-65 million years ago)
Height: 21 ft. tall   |   Length: 44 ft. long   |   Weight: 15 tons

You are likely already familiar with Tyrannosaurus Rex. However, despite your familiarity with the name, shape, and general reputation of the T. Rex, this will be the most abstract exhibit you visit today, the basic facts of its existence the most implausible. Not listed above: the time that the species known to us as T. Rex was in existence was for 20 million years. In Latin, its name means “tyrant lizard king.” This creature was a ruler by nature, a bloody carnivore, its very genealogy coded for that purpose, the bones molded for monarchy. Observe the bones: this specimen is the most complete ever assembled. Only the skull was fractured, and from that a plaster cast was made, a convincing reconstruction—but it will never be the same.

New studies suggest that maybe the T. Rex was covered with feathers in its entirety, a carnivorous, toothy bird. Maybe that is more real to you, easier to see, but we don’t know for certain—feathers leave nothing behind. In any case, it doesn’t matter to you: the T. Rex now is just an extinct mass of bones, an extinct monarch rendered before you in an extinct language, the reality of its rule and its existence indistinct. Think of it: these facts laid out before you, how the small, meaningless arms dangling sharply there are over half as long as you are tall. What is this thing to you? 

Your son, especially, will like this exhibit. Or your wife, or your lover, or your friend or your brother or your sister—it doesn’t matter, really: you are all too busy looking at the holes in its head, those chasms which you could fit in, those frameless sockets where something, something, once was. 

Joseph Conrad Payne

Joseph Conrad Payne grew up on a farmhouse with no farm and no animals, which fostered a quiet and contemplative atmosphere. His fiction has been published by Fleas on the Dog, Light and Dark, and the Arlington Literary Journal. Besides writing, Payne enjoys bathrobes, oatmeal, drawing, fencing, and long bike rides.