Integral Annihilation

A curious feature of Imperial academia is the antidegree (occasionally and unofficially referred to as the dishonorary antidegree).

One cannot, of course, simply revoke a degree obtained without fraud; it is a time-bound certification of ability which stands as testimony to the competence of its holder at that time. However, it cannot be denied that there are those who, in later life, fall from the path of wisdom, and who do not respond to the gentle correction of their peers.

Let it be stated first that our institutions of learning are chary of awarding antidegrees. It is not their purpose to harass those whose knowledge has become obsolescent with the passage of time and who no longer practice in their field, save that they continue to opine on current matters; nor are they intended to be other than a last resort when gentler measures have failed. Perhaps most importantly, they must not and will not be used as a stick to beat unconventional hypothesists and heterodox thinkers, from whom so much of our advancement ultimately proceeds.

But in those rare cases when one willfully leaves the path of wisdom and the quest for truth, be it for petty reasons of ideology, utility, or personal advancement, or for some imagined grander cause, and in the worst cases does so with the support of actual fraud, the antidegree stands as a last resort to prevent the propagation of lies and false paradigms under the color of abandoned integrity.

Apart from its direct effects (the antiqualification being deemed to cancel out the initial qualification), the antidegree carries with it social censure, including effective expulsion from the academic exultancy, and in legal terms immunizes the awarding institution from potential suits over the awardance of the initial qualification to a presumably unworthy candidate, unless it can be demonstrated that this could reasonably have been established at the time.

Rarely, an institution may issue an antidegree to an individual that was never awarded a degree in the first place (the ridiculously named honorary dishonorary antidegree) as a particularly pointed criticism of some unusually noteworthy proclamation of unwisdom. Such has no legal effect, but where the Imperial intelligentsia are concerned, has all the social function of the old custom of judicial incredibility.

Repent, Horologist! Said The Tick-Tock Man

Ladies and gentlemen, I take you now to – the calendar!

Specifically, I take you to the Harmonious Calendar, the standard calendar used by Imperial chronometrists ever since the Founding (although in its basic structure it required little adjustment, primarily the setting of a new base point/year zero, and the standardization – if not translation – of day, month, and season names into now-standard Eldraeic.

Its units are, naturally enough, dictated by the period and rotation of Eliéra around its star, and as such, it uses a 333-day solar year. That year is divided into 37 weeks of nine cycles – a complete planetary rotation, completing a day and a night¹, is referred to as a cycle – each; a convenience of this arrangement is that the year always begins (at the winter solstice) on the first cycle of the week, Amphimis, and ends on the last cycle of the week, Nyxis.

The year is also divided into twelve months of three weeks (or 27 cycles) each, a total of 324 cycles, and nine intercalary cycles are added (six at the start and end of the year, and three in the middle) to make up the full count. While the length of a month is not an exact divisor of the length of the year, it was taken from the period of Seléne, the major moon; however, the months no longer follow her phases, as they’ve been synchronized with the years.

Since Eliéra’s orbital year includes an additional 0.3 days, a “leap” cycle is inserted to calibrate the calendar² every third year, but omitting every thirtieth. Its name is derived from its function, and Calibration Day is added each year immediately after the intercalary day for the summer solstice, Midyear’s Day.

The twelve months of the year are also divided into six two-month seasons (shown by the color-coding and the key at the bottom), in accordance with the cultural tradition of dividing things into groups of six and assigning them correspondences with the classical elements.

(The above image is uncomfortably tiny, sad to say, when fit into the blog format, but if you open just the image in a new tab from the context menu, you should be able to magnify it back to its original size.)


  1. Or a night and a day. For convenience, the cycle on the Upperside runs from dawn to the following dawn, and that on the Underside from dusk to the following dusk, and thus constitutes the exact same period regardless of your location.
  2. Since Calibration Day is already an anomaly in the regular progression of the cycles, leap seconds and other minor temporal adjustments are traditionally included in the Calibration correction.