Anyway, according to a report in the May/June issue of Archaeology magazine, in a reverse archaeology exercise, the DOE brought together "engineers, archaeologists, anthropologists, and linguists to design effective warning structures capable of lasting 10,000 years ... Using archeological sites as 'historical analogues.'" A summary analysis of the DOE report on the Environmental Protection Agency Web site explains that "The conceptual design for the PIC ('Passive Institutional Controls') markers" includes a berm surrounding the area, 48 granite monoliths, "thousands of small buried markers, randomly spaced and distributed," an information center located aboveground, and "two buried storage rooms."

You'll note there's no provision for a gift shop or children's play area, but I suspect those design oversights can be easily corrected at the same time they put in the handicapped ramps.

So, you might ask, "What's this thing going to run us?" Calm down, taxpayers, it'll be a pittance. The materials will be cheap, says the EPA, pointing out that "materials of high economic value are less desirable because they may encourage removal and/or destruction of markers." Good point -- that's where the Egyptians slipped up. No gold facings for us.

Figure the whole job's going to cost a mere $150 to $200 million. Chickenfeed for those of us who don't fancy our future relatives looking like phosphorescent iguanas.

To get a closer view of one of these proposed hot zone follies, come, let's take a walk through, and for god's sake, don't touch anything.

According to the EPA document, the "inner core" of the 33-foot-tall berm "will consist of salt." OK, sure. Salt. Most people turn and run at the sight of salt. This berm surrounding the "repository footprint" (I love wonk-speak) is the first line of defense. The thought, I guess, is that if our year 8002 archaeologists first begin to dig into the berm, they'll strike the mound of salt. "Salt!" someone will bellow. "Let's get the hell out of here!" And the expedition leader will try to control the ensuing frenzy. "Better clear out," he'll say. "I don't like the looks of this. Fill the shakers then let's beat it!"

But if curiousity gets the better of our explorers, and they just walk right over the berm and head for the monuments, they'll first come across 16 structures that will "consist of two granite monoliths joined by a [5 foot] long tendon, with a buried truncated base, [22 feet] high, including the tendon, and a [25 foot] high right prism that will be [4 feet] square. The upper stone will weigh approximately [40 tons], and the base stone will weigh approximately [65 tons]." And that's just the first bunch.

Farther in, at the "perimeter of the controlled area," are 32 more granite monoliths. Altogether, these 48 100-ton puppies alone will cost about $30 million according to the EPA estimate. But given how government contracts go, we can safely triple that and still be under the actual cost. Shipping extra. Seems like a lot until you consider that the price includes engraving.

No, there'll be no monograms, no floral patterns, but each monument will be inscribed with "messages in seven languages: the six official United Nations languages (English, French, Spanish, Chinese, Russian, and Arabic) and Navajo." Navajo? Great. The Hopis are going to be so pissed. With all due respect to the Navajo, a fine people we've done everything in our power to drive into extinction (there are about 250,000 now living in the U.S.), please raise your hand if you think our relatives 6,000 years down the pike are likely to be reading Navajo. Heck, why not Sanskrit or Eskimo?

And what are these inscriptions going to say? Will they be your basic banal warnings, the type of thing we paid so much attention to as kids, or maybe something more effective, like the first chapter of "The Bridges of Madison County"?

The DOE plans to separate the messages "into different levels of complexity," assuming, I suppose, that even 6,000 or 8,000 years from now there will be slow readers who don't much cotton to subtlety. Always thinking ahead, the DOE plans to road-test the inscriptions to check "the comprehensibility of messages among a cultural cross section of the U.S. population." Sounds reasonable, but let's take it a step further. When a Lakota Sioux gentleman doesn't comprehend a "No Trespassing" sign written in Navajo or Arabic, what's our next move?

Images, of course! One surface of the polished, four-sided monuments will feature "diagrams." That's fine. Pictures are good, and a welcome respite from all the reading, but at the risk of second-guessing the experts, may I suggest a simpler, more surefire alternate plan? A 15-foot-tall reproduction of Lucien Freud's ghastly-but-true portrait of Queen Elizabeth, or perhaps a collection of stills from "Glitter" starring Mariah Carey, or anything from the brushes of Thomas Kinkade Painter of Light, accompanied by 500 words from Lynn Cheney's novel, "The Body Politic," translated into Urdu.

Trust me, there is no conceivable circumstance, now or at any time in the future, under which a sentient being confronted with such a display would not be deeply alarmed and motivated to gallop in the opposite direction. Just a suggestion, free of charge.

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