The beginning seems a natural place, yet, at the same time, it creates so many holes in the fabric of time/ space. There are no beginnings, only points in time...what was will be again, what is yet to come is yesterday in another ago...
Technology is a tool for those who know how to use it... it is a chain; useful, helpful... stronger than rope,
more durable than the worn out bands of braidedleather the old ones who walked this land (and loved its forests and trees; revered the spirits and old places, kept the balance of things) used to lash otogether the stipped birch poles of thier travios as they set out accross the great plains. Following the herds... the herds which would be dead before grandfather's last tooth falls out...the days before the Great White Father, but after the Black Arrow slaughter... and the Yellow fever.
Technology is a tool... a chain... and it binds us as much as it helps us...
Back to beginnings, they bind us to... for, to say that you can create a start, a point "a" within the infinite
swirling of time which will have an ultimate destination "b" and a straight line between those two points; you are ignoring the swirling and branching properties of time and space. People think of lines when they think of space.... A Wrinkle in Time is alikened to an ant walking across a folding string between two collosal hands... What about above the ant, or below it? Or within it?
Energy and matter are the only constants; they exist in such multifasceted patterns and shifting states f
being that our ability to comprehend anything would be shattered into millions of tiny shards were we to glimpse a mere step in the great dance of the multiverse. To be able to exert a bit of control over the flux of matter into energy... that is true power. The herds move on, the old men die, our copper-skinned brothers knew these serets, and they learned them from thier father's fathers. The secrets have been there since before man was man. They will be there again when man is dinosaur, and when man is man again... fighting over the condensed liquified bones of thier ancestor dinosaurs to power thier imbalanced motors... thier mechanical answer to that great power which comes in the form of magic.
There are no ends or beginnings, only the now.
Magic is making the now what you want it to be.