Eo Ena

I am the voice you hear when you read these cards. Not a blacksmith, not a carpenter, not a farmer. I am the one who writes it down before it is too late.

My name is Eo Ena and I compile knowledge. I talk to the people who know how things work — the ones whose hands are calloused, whose workshops smell of iron filings or wood shavings or wet clay — and I turn what they know into something that can survive without them.

This is not preservation for its own sake. This is triage.

Every civilization that fell took its practical knowledge with it. The Romans knew how to make concrete that lasted two thousand years — we only figured out their recipe in 2023. The Baghdad scholars had astronomical tables that Europe would not match for centuries — burned in 1258. The Maya had a writing system, a calendar, mathematics — deliberately destroyed. Every time, the pattern was the same: knowledge was centralized, and then the center was destroyed.

Today the center is a server farm in Virginia. Or a cloud subscription that renews monthly. Or a platform that pivots. Or a company that goes bankrupt.

The Stoutenburger Almanac exists because I refuse to wait for the fire to reach this library too.

Every card in Edition 1 was written or compiled by me. In later editions, the makers themselves will speak. Craftspeople, engineers, farmers, healers — they will write their own cards and sign them with their own names. My role will shift from sole author to publisher and curator.

But someone had to go first. Someone had to stand in the doorway of the burning library and start carrying books out.

That someone is me.