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Monthly Archives: June 2019

Tu-Swift’s Vengeance

26 Wednesday Jun 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Justice, legend, mercy, myth, story

Tu-Swift heard something and dropped to the ground instinctively. He nearly screamed aloud from the sudden explosion of sparkling white pain that shot through his knee. He panted to help squelch his scream and reduce the pain. He stared through a gap in some fencing. His body now flooded with adrenalin, his thoughts once again raced ahead. What was that furry thing in the distance? 

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Wolves! Of course, he thought. Lucky I am downwind! They will be hungry and looking for food. These appeared to be mere pups. They don’t send pups out first. Perhaps the pack has all been destroyed in the fire and only these two — wait! Those are the ones Many Paths befriended! And there’s Shadow Walker! He’s limping. What happened to him? And what is he…he glanced at his own sword. He’s got one of these. But Shadow Walker was being cautious. Perhaps he sees more wolves? Or, the People Who Steal Children? 

Just then, Shadow Walker begin secret whistle-talking, hiding his message in the surrounding birdsong, much as a stalking cat creeps hidden in the tall grass. Shadow Walker was asking whether Tu-Swift was there. Tu-Swift nearly shouted out that he was here, but caught himself just in time. He whistled back that he was here and asked if it was okay to come out of hiding. 

Shadow Walker whistled back that to be cautious but to make yourself visible to me and I will make myself visible to you. 

Tu-Swift now smiled. His smile widened. He was so happy, it took him three tries to purse his lips enough to whistle back: “You are already visible to me.” 

Shadow Walker snorted and then he really laughed aloud. He knew it to be rash but he had been so tense, frightened, worried, angry for so long that the relief came unbidden. 

In body, both of these Veritas were hobble-legged and jerky; they nonetheless closed the gap between them quickly, but not so quickly as the wolf pups who were at Tu-Swift in a flash. He smiled deeply at their obvious joy in seeing him again. He felt his shoulders and neck relax. Then, he fell into a long embrace with Shadow Walker. They felt such mutual relief in their reunion that thoughts of the dark and evil days they had just lived through did not invade the consciousness of either one of them for a time. Yet, both of them held fast to the hilts of their new-found swords.  

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Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift both began to speak at once. Then, out of mutual respect, both stopped. Shadow Walker stopped out of respect to the exuberance that emanates and animates the young in general and to the survival of Tu-Swift. Tu-Swift respected the age and experience of Shadow Walker. 

After a pause, Tu-Swift began again, “What happened to you? Where are the others? Are there more of the People Who Steal Children still about? Did you see any horses? How is Day-Nah?”

Shadow Walker smiled and put up his hand. “Wait. Wait. I have questions for you as well, but quickly and one at a time, I will try to answer yours first. I sprained my ankle running from the fire. I don’t know about Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer. So far as I know Day-Nah is okay, heading back to our Center place with Fleet of Foot, Easy Tears, and Hudah Salah. I did slay one of the People Who Steal Children on the way here. But wait. You asked whether there were any more. Did you see some?”

“Oh, yes. There are four under the armory, or what used to be the armory. Three women and one badly wounded man. He was one of the ones who oversaw me when I worked with the horses. I came out here to find some yellow dock to staunch his wounds.”  

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Shadow Walker shook his head. “What? Four of them? What sorts of weapons do they have? Why are you helping them? This man who enslaved you?” 

“They have no weapons,” Tu-Swift began. “He — he’s hurt — and in a lot of pain. I don’t think he’s a threat. These are not really soldiers. They are…just people. They could not outrun the fire and managed to survive in the cellar beneath the armory. Should I not heal him? But anyway, there is nothing growing anywhere near. I can’t travel far as yet. I fell badly and twisted my knee.” 

Shadow Walker nodded. “Ah, those odd tracks were your odd tracks. Crutch and all. Where did you get one of these?” He held aloft his sword and regarded it, still impressed at the feel of it. 

Tu-Swift replied. “It was in the armory. It is sharp! But also — so hard. I think it would slice right through most of our weapons. How did you get yours?”

Shadow Walker’s tone became somber as he answered, “One of the People Who Steal Children came at me with it. I had no weapon to speak of. I was lucky to survive. He fell onto a sharp tree stump and perished. I helped him end his life more quickly.”

Tu-Swift looked into Shadow Walker’s eyes and said softly, “So, you also believe in mercy for our enemies?” 

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Shadow Walker frowned. “I’m not sure. But let’s see these People Who Live in Cellars and find out what their story is. Lead the way.” 

Tu-Swift began hobbling toward the armory. After a few feet, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Shadow Walker held out a bunch of dried leaves. 

Tu-Swift exclaimed, “Yellow dock! But where did you get it?” 

Shadow Walker, “Not around here. When I escaped the fire, I found some near a creek to help heal my sprain. I’m not that swollen or pained any more, though I still cannot really walk very well. You can use this on your friend.” 

It was Tu-Swift’s turn to frown. “I would not call him my friend. He was the least cruel of the three main overseers we had. And he was almost decent to the horses too. Almost. Anyway, if we have the power to heal, it seems we should. I’m sure that’s what Many Paths would do.”

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Shadow Walker sighed a long sigh. “Are you sure? I’m not. She just became leader and one disaster after another has befallen the Veritas. You were stolen. Several of our guards were murdered. Somewhere in this land, there are eight of us. But I only see you. You are the only one I can be certain is still alive. I’m not so sure Many Paths would chose mercy for any of the People Who Steal Children. Do they really deserve it?”

“You could be right, Shadow Walker. One cannot ever know for certain how someone else will react to the pressure of the moment. But she did once say to me that mercy that is deserved is not really mercy. It is fairness. It is justice. But it is not mercy.”

They had arrived at the entrance to the armory. Shadow Walker placed his arm on Tu-Swift. “You may be right, Tu-Swift, but I know one thing for certain. Many Paths would think for a long time of all the pros and cons before taking action, right?” 

Tu-Swift chuckled. “I get your point. Sometimes she does go on and on and on about various possibilities. But when it’s necessary to act quickly, she acts. She doesn’t always discuss. Her natural bent is toward kindness to all things.” 

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Shadow Walker nodded slowly. “Yes. You’re right. Look, this may yet be a trap. Let me stand here while you pull up the trap door. That handle…”

“Yes, it’s the same weird stuff our swords are made of. I know. Okay, here, let me ease down and I’ll pull it open. But I don’t think you will face a hail of arrows or the tip of a sword, although I am sure Many Paths would advise us to be prepared for anything!” 

Shadow Walker smiled at Tu-Swift. “Agreed.” 

Tu-Swift pulled on the cold, hard ring of the trap door. Slowly, it creaked open. 

————————————————————————-

Author Page on Amazon.

The Creation Myth of the Veritas. 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man. 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field. 

The Beginning of Book One. 

The Beginning of Book Two. 

The Pros and Cons of AI.

  

Eagle Eyes Eyes an Eagle

20 Thursday Jun 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

forest fire, legend, life, myth, ROI, story, Veritas

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Eagle Eyes ran desperately to escape the flames that chased her down the hill. Her eyes burned from the smoke, but she hated the lack of visibility more than the pain. She needed to run quickly and yet, could hardly see her next footfall. So much for having the eyes of an eagle a tiny voice in her head said scornfully. She might or might not break a leg, she calculated, but being eaten by the fire would surely kill her, so on she ran. For a moment, the wind shifted and she could see a clear path before her with only a small fire to avoid and she ran even faster in that direction. Suddenly, the path before her burst into a wall of flames. She looked around desperately and caught a glimpse of another person off to her right. She couldn’t tell who it was in the murky air, but whoever it was seemed to be running directly away from her. She turned and ran in that direction. 

The shadowy figure before her suddenly veered to the right, stopped, spun around and ran off at a different angle. She ran toward the shadowy figure. She soon outdistanced the flames and found herself doubled over, gasping for air in a grassy field that was unscathed by fire. Even better, she breathed clean air. She thought of how grateful she was and suddenly collapsed. 

When she regained consciousness, she found herself on her belly. She raised her head, glanced down and saw human feet right beside her. She jumped and spun into a defensive combat posture. Eagle Eyes took in the posture and bearing of her enemy and had decided where to strike when a voice yelled “Stop!” She recognized the voice. It was her own voice, echoing in her head. She felt faint. 

The man before her was Lion Slayer. He was trying to smile at her but grimacing in obvious pain.

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“Ah, Lion Slayer. Well met. Sorry, I thought you were…I guess I thought you were one of those who steals children.”

“I understand. I was also terrified! Because of this.” He held up his injured arm. “And worse. We could be both crisply burned to a crisp. What of the others? Have you seen them?” 

Both of them looked toward the open, undamaged field that lay before them. Neither saw any sign of their compatriots. Then, they turned and regarded the crest of the hill behind them. It lay a charred ruin and behind that they could see towering flames and billowing black smoke. They turned and looked at each other. 

Eagle Eyes frowned. “Should we go back for them?” 

Lion Slayer looked down. “I would like to. Of course. But we were very lucky to escape those flames once. We will do them no good dead.”

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Eagle Eyes considered. With a sudden shudder, she recalled running through the flaming field, unable to draw breath, unable to see more than a few feet in front of her. “I hate fire. At least this kind of uncontrolled fire. It destroyed everything and everyone. I hate fire arrows.” 

Lion Slayer nodded. “As do I. Eventually, it will burn itself out and I will find Hudah Salah. And the others. But now, we should move even farther away. The wind can shift again and bring the fire this way and this time, we might not be so lucky.”

Eagle Eyes also nodded. “We must be wary as well to be on the lookout for the People Who Steal Children. If we escaped, some of those might have as well. And our friends. Come, let me tend to your wounds when we get down there. Beyond that creek, there are trees. On the far side of the creek we may find jewelweed or yellow dock to help with your burns.” Here she pointed off in the distance and began walking. Lion Slayer walked beside her, constantly scanning the horizon for enemies of the human or fiery variety. 

“I see some far trees. I do not know these plants, jewelweed and jello dock, but we have a kind of cactus  — we put the jelly on burns.” 

The eyes of Eagle Eyes brightened, “Oh, yes, I know that one. You brought some on your visit! But I don’t think it grows near here. It’s ‘yellow dock’ by the way, not ‘jello dock’.” 

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“Oh, sorry, yes. I wasn’t sure anyone noticed the gifts we brought. Perhaps you have no need of such things. We call it ‘aloe’.” 

“Oh, yes, all of the Veritas were grateful for your gifts. I especially thought those…what did you call them? ‘Scarves’?  They were quite attractive!”

“Like this one?”  He pulled out from his robe a finely made scarf and held it out to her. It looked to have originally been blue and white, but now it was mostly black. “I found it easier to breathe through this. It keeps out very many of the smoke. We use them for sandstorms.” 

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Presently, they arrived at the creek. Sure enough, on the far side, yellow dock grew in abundance. Finding a long-abandoned campsite near the margin of the woods, Eagle Eyes made a cold wrapping of boiled leaves. To cool them quickly and more completely, she swung them in the air until they were cold to the touch. She gently laid them on the blistered skin of Lion Slayer. She was surprised that he hardly flinched. She glanced back across the creek and saw a group of people! She hoped it was Fleet of Foot! And, the others, of course. She tapped Lion Slayer on the shoulder and put her finger to her lips for quiet. She gestured for him to turn and look. He did so, stood, and began to shout, “Hudah! Hu-mmmph!” 

Eagle Eyes sprang up in a flash and clamped her hand over his mouth. She put her mouth right next to his ear and, in a loud whisper said, “Wait! There are too many. Those are the People Who Steal Children!” 

Lion Slayer turned looking back and forth between the figures on the horizon and Eagle Eyes. She appeared so insistent, gesturing him to get back behind the cover of nearby trees. He backed away into the trees. When they were in a fair distance but could still look out he turned again, “You cannot count how many there are! Not from here. Hudah may be there!” 

Eagle Eyes put her finger to her lips to signal quiet. She whispered again. “I can count them from here. Twenty have passed by and more are still passing.” 

“But then, our friends may have been captured!” he protested. 

“I doubt that very much. So far, no-one resembling Fleet of Foot or any of our friends have passed by. And Fleet of Foot would probably rather fling himself into the fire than be captured. That man loves his freedom, believe me. I know him well.” For some reason, she blushed after she said this and her hands became sweaty. She glanced away from the horizon into the deep dark eyes of Lion Tamer. 

She stammered out, “I mean, Shadow Walker’s probably much the same. And you. Wouldn’t you rather die in the fire than be captured?” 

“No. I would fight. I hate captured. But hate fire burning more. This hurts!” 

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At least he’s whispering now, thought Eagle Eyes. Maybe he’s trainable. Anyway, that’s not my job. My job is to look for our friends. But now, there are too many together. I cannot really see everyone. But we must remain here until…. She decided to share her thoughts with her comrade. “I cannot get a good look at everyone. There are too many. But if our friends are there, I can tell you that they are definitely captured and vastly outnumbered. Once they all pass by, maybe we can follow their trail and we will get a better chance to see about our friends.”

When Eagle Eyes saw that there were no more passing by, she signaled Lion Tamer to follow her. He frowned and whispered, “It’s dangerous. Let me lead.” 

Eagle Eyes nearly laughed aloud but stifled herself. “It much much more dangerous if you lead. I can see better. Oh, don’t make that look. You know it’s true.”

Lion Tamer sighed. He knew it was true, but somehow, he felt he should go first. It was how things were done. But not by the Veritas, he reminded himself. Their leader is a woman. Without a very good record so far, he thought silently.

Eagle Eyes got down on all fours and began creeping up the hill at an angle. She turned, put her fingers to her lips and gestured Lion Tamer to get down. He did so and they slowly moved forward through the tall grass whenever the wind came up. She turned to to say something and Lion Tamer was not there! She looked all around and then saw him coming through the grass. She crept up to him and whispered, “Stay close. Where you can see me. And hear my whispers. We don’t want to be found out. Stay close!” 

Lion Tamer followed his instructions, but it made him very uncomfortable. He could see her only all too well. Much of her clothing had been burned. And Veritas women wore hardly more than men did. At her insistence, he was so close, he could not only see her, but smell her as well. And, he liked it. A lot. 

Lion Tamer sighed. He thought to himself that he must put this out of his mind, at least for now. If they were discovered, they might or might not be able to outrun their enemies. Eagle Eyes stopped and held up her hand behind her. She turned and put her mouth near the ear of Lion Tamer. She whispered. “We are close enough for now. They have no horses. None. And they are not very well organized. I think it most likely that they simply ran from their village. I still see no sign of our friends, but we will creep closer after nightfall if conditions are right. Come.” She gestured toward a small gully overgrown with weeds. 

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He lay next to her, without touching her, but close enough to feel the heat of her body. He reminded himself of his wife, Hudah. How would he feel if he survived this fire and she did not? He hoped he did not have to discover the answer to that question. Hudah suited him just fine, though the Veritas women intrigued him. And this one…her eyes were not only effective, but deep and beautiful. 

Something caught those deep and beautiful eyes and she glanced up. An eagle circled above, its majestic wings reflecting a red glow from flames burning. Eagle Eyes made an incredibly high pitched whistle. The eagle immediately banked left out of its circle and descended rapidly toward them. Eagle Eyes heard Lion Slayer gasp beside her and she lay her fingers on his lips to hush him. She slowly drew a piece of dried meat from a pouch. She gathered much of the cloth that remained and wrapped it quickly around her forearm just before the eagle alit upon it. She whispered to it gently as she fed it the meat. Eagle Eyes tore a tiny strip of blue cloth from her garment and wrapped around one of the eagle’s legs, whispering gently as she did so. The eagle stared at her as she said, “Go home. Go home. Go home.” The eagle finished the meat and flapped back up into the sky.

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She turned to look at Lion Slayer, whose mouth lay agape below staring eyes.

“Will that work?!” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I’ve trained many eagles. Luckily, this was one of them. But I can’t say for certain.”

“You are an amazing … you are amazing,” said Lion Slayer, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

——————————-

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Parable of the Orange Man 

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book One

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book Two

Author Page on Amazon

Shadow Walker’s Shadow Walking

14 Friday Jun 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

hatred, legend, myths, story, Veritas

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To ameliorate his impatience with the slow, ankle-sprained progress he made in his search for Tu-Swift, Shadow Walker entertained himself by thinking through the ways to be a more stealthy warrior. 

{Translator’s Note}: I used the expression “entertained himself” because from what we can tell, the Veritas very much enjoyed learning from others and from oneself. Such improved skill might well save his life. In our culture, we would therefore perhaps call it “practical” and it would be irrelevant whether it would be entertaining. But they thought that most things were at once practical, entertaining, and educational. 

Shadow Walker’s internal dialogue continued. I have my eyes of course, he thought, and it is much harder to see in the dark. But besides that, I see differently in the dark. More like a cat. It’s hard to see color. And, I’m more sensitive to movement. Not everyone sees as well as I do. And, some, like Eagle Eyes see far better. At this, Shadow Walker’s logical flow diverted. He began to wonder yet again about all the missing members of the search party. He and Eagle Eyes had worked through the trials for the rings of empathy together. And, though he only knew him a short time, he had come to like and respect Lion Slayer. Still, he felt his main priority was to find Tu-Swift. Though already quite fast a runner, he was still relatively small and inexperienced. Eagle Eyes was an experienced fighter and possessed excellent vision. She would see an enemy coming before that enemy saw her. Probably. But it all depends…and he returned to his considerations of how to make himself stealthier with respect to sight. 

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He explored this theme for a time, going back in his own memories about how various factors affected his vision. He recalled from the empathy trials that a person’s state influenced what they saw. If they were hungry, they would tend to see things more as food. If they were thirsty, they would see things more in terms of moisture. And so on. It occurred to Shadow Walker that the beautiful symmetry in the clothing that adorned so many of the Veritas actually made them much more visible as targets. A more random pattern like fallen leaves…

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Shadow Walker smiled at the recollection. When he was about six winters old, he had been playing in some autumn leaves when one of them suddenly jerked upward in a buzzing flight! The Praying Mantis is a fairly large insect and it had seemingly appeared from nowhere and startled him greatly. So, color and pattern as appropriate to the background would help. Masks. Yes. The face was the most distinctive and obviously human part of a person. Now, it occurred to Shadow Walker that perhaps the ceremonial masks that they sometimes wore had once been part of a camouflage outfit. Perhaps once such masks had been necessary for hunting or war or both. 

All the Veritas were trained while stalking to wait and move only when the wind moved. But perhaps there was more to that skill as well. He had noticed that the wolf pups had far better hearing than he did. And sense of smell of course. But now, Shadow Walker thought about the ears of horses. They moved like those of the wolves and were also large. A horse could probably hear the slight snap of a tiny twig much better than a human could. If the People Who Stole Children still had their horses, he would have to be very careful indeed not to be heard too soon. 

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With another flash of insight, Shadow Walker realized that if these People Who Steal Children were going to insist on being enemies, it would be well for the Veritas to learn much more about the ways of horses. It seemed to him, in their brief exchanges before the fire had separated them, that Tu-Swift had already begun down that path. Perhaps it would be necessary to make friends with horses as the Veritas had done with wolves, eagles, and many plants. To encourage plants to grow, it was necessary to learn what each plant wanted. Some wanted much water; others less. For some, planting a small fish nearby seemed to help them. Others had to be groomed of pests. Maybe it was the same with horses? 

Shadow Walker reminded himself to stay alert to the task at hand. At last he reached the edge of the burned forest, but the “cover” there was hardly better than in the burned out field. After only hobbling a few hundred yards in the remains of the burned forest, he noticed odd indentations in the earth, spaced an arm’s length apart. He had never seen a track like this. He bent down and picked up a small piece of charcoal. He twirled it in his fingers and it disintegrated. Then, he looked at his hands and noticed they were smudged with ash. He decided to pattern his body and clothes like a fawn, dappling both with black splotches of varying size. 

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Ahead of him, the wolf pups were excitedly sniffing at a large black blob. As he limped closer, he saw that it was the charred body of a deer. He peered at it and realized that something had turned it and examined it, perhaps for edible meat. There was none. The destructiveness of fire was complete. Shadow Walker thought of the legend of the Orange Man who, through his own greed, had destroyed a complete village and himself as well. Perhaps the People Who Steal Horses had done the same. Perhaps they were all dead. But perhaps not. He smiled, realizing that it was Many Paths more than anyone else who had taught him to consider a wide variety of alternatives before taking action. 

Suddenly, a wave of love and longing for Many Paths came over him. The image of her smiling face floated before him. He sighed. Why would people come and steal Tu-Swift? And, Dah-Nah too for that matter. They are a cruel people! He began to fantasize some particularly nasty tortures for them. Then, he realized that he himself did not want to become as cruel as they are. He did not want to feed the “bad wolf” within himself. It would be easy right now to feed the “bad wolf” within. Those people astride horses had done so much damage to the Veritas, to the fields, the trees. The “good wolf” seemed to have gone for a moment. Then, he noticed that the two real wolves right beside him both stood rigid, their ears turned, their nostrils flared. They stared behind him. 

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He spun around in time to see the flash of a sword. His ankle gave way as he ducked and spun. He fell hard against the blackened deer carcass. As the warrior stepped forward, Shadow Walker shot his good leg out and swept the warrior’s forward leg out from under him, causing the warrior to fall and yell out, perhaps warning others. Shadow Walker’s powerful arms pinned the warrior’s arm behind him and he twisted it hard. The man struggled mightily, twisting, turning and falling onto the sharp triangle of a burned tree stump. The stump shot clean through the man from belly to back. He began to scream and tried to free himself. Shadow Walker twisted the sword from the man’s hand and lay his own weight atop the man thus further impaling him. For a moment, he found himself enjoying the sound of the man’s ripping flesh. The screams soon became a weak bubbly burble. 

Shadow Walker scanned the forest remains, alert for more warriors who might be drawn by the screams. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. The hungry wolf pups were much more interested in lapping up the spilled blood than anything else. They seemed quite unconcerned about further attack. Perhaps this had been a lone survivor and perhaps not. Shadow Walker remained crouched down for several minutes. At last he became convinced that he was not in immediate danger. He stood up and began to examine the sword. It consisted of something not earthly, yet familiar. This, he suddenly realized, was made of the same stuff as the door on circles that they had encountered on the way here. What was this strange metal? And, how could they have made a sword this smooth and even? 

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Perhaps there was more to be learned from this enemy than the training of horses. They seem to have better weapons as well. The wolf pups began tearing at the flesh of Shadow Walker’s would be killer. It occurred to him that it might be a mistake to let them taste the flesh of humans. It was too late to stop now. He wanted to examine the warrior more closely, but did not want to have the wolves think he was attempting to “horn in” on their “kill” but soon they had their fill and he examined the corpse. In the dead man’s tunic he found a small leather pouch which contained three circles of gold. 

This is odd, thought Shadow Walker. Why make gold into a circle? The disks also had strange markings on them and the image of a face. These are a very odd people indeed, thought Shadow Walker. He secured the sword and the pouch with the gold disks around his waist with leather thongs. Then, he began making his way toward the village. Again, the forest seemed completely deserted. Yet, he remained wary. He followed the odd track. It seemed to him that it could well be the track of someone using a make-shift crutch or cane. It might be Tu-Swift. But it might be another warrior from the People Who Steal Children. 

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Soon, Shadow Walker could see clear spaces beyond the edge of the charred forest. In those clear spaces, the burned remnants of the village of the People Who Steal Children stood. Fire, he reminded himself, was not something to be toyed with. He had to admit that he had felt a strange wave of pleasure wash over him when the heard the ripping sound of flesh. That fire of hatred and cruelty must be contained or it would destroy him as thoroughly as the forest fire had destroyed the People Who Steal Children. Shadow Walker moved cautiously; moved with the wind; moved from shadow to shadow, as his eyes searched the open spaces for signs of life. 


Author Page on Amazon

The Legend of the Orange Man

Story of Feeding the Good Wolf vs. the Bad Wolf

Mobility of Body & Mind

12 Wednesday Jun 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

innovation, learning, politics, sports, truth

As many of you know, I am using fiction (The Myths of the Veritas) to explore how various values interact. In our story currently, two of the Veritas barely escaped a forest fire and in the process, both injured themselves. This limited their mobility led me, not for the first time, to think about mobility more broadly. How does it relate to strategy and tactics in games, sports, and life? Are our concepts of mobility always useful? How else might one think about mobility? 

This is also of interest because I recently fell down and broke some ribs. As the saying goes, “It only hurts when I laugh.” But that’s not very accurate. It also hurts to cough, hiccup, stand up, sit down, turn over, and lie down. I began to write about people with limited mobility and then my own mobility became limited, at least temporarily. So, now, I take a very short break from the Veritas and instead riff on mobility. 

In college, one of my quad mates, Andy, happened to be an excellent chess player. I had enjoyed chess ever since I was about 10, but I had never actually studied it much. Andy introduced me to Emmanuel Lasker’s chess manual (an awesome and recommended book, by the way) and to think about chess positionally and strategically. Before that, I had mainly relied on “seeing” combinations (an unexpected and brilliant sequence of moves & counter-moves) as a way of winning. 

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In the process of showing the values of chess, including mobility, Andy introduced me to a game called “Monster.” In this chess variant, one side has all the pieces and plays “normally.” The other side has only a king and four pawns. That’s right. A king and four pawns against a king, queen, eight pawns, two knights, two bishops, and two rooks! It sounds vastly one-sided. But here’s the twist. The side with only a king and four pawns gets two moves to every one move of the other side. 

Unless the side with all the pieces plays quite well, it will quickly be overwhelmed by the side with double mobility. Perhaps this should not have been so surprising to me. Imagine you could run twice as fast as a “normally fast person.” In other words, you could run the 100 yard dash in 5 seconds rather than 10 and run 40 yards in 3 seconds. Not only would you be the world’s fastest sprinter, you could also run out most ground balls in baseball; if your basketball team got a rebound on the opponent’s side, they would pretty much be able to just throw the ball to the other side for the world’s fastest fast break. You would be pretty amazing in soccer or American football as well. 

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Needless to say (?), greater speed isn’t always an asset. In molecular terms, greater molecular velocity means a higher temperature. Humans and other warm-blooded animals employ various mechanisms (shivering, sweating, goose bumps, blood flow regulation, etc.) to keep their temperature fairly constant. If those molecules start moving around twice as fast as they normally do, the organism will quickly die. If the molecules move too slowly, the organism will also die.  

As we age, thought, as well as movement, tends to slow down, other things being equal. Of course, other things are seldom equal. If you are highly experienced and well-practiced at something like playing piano, typing, coding, or doing cross-words, you will typically not slow down much and be much faster than a much younger but much less experienced pianist, typist, coder, or cross-word solver. 

fire wallpaper

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Life is a dance of opposites; e.g., stability and change; duplication and diversity; movement and stasis. Long ago, our ancestors chose mobility and became animals while another whole branch of life chose stability and became plants. Even so, as time-lapse photography reveals, plants do move. Occasionally, they move much more rapidly as anyone who has touched the “triggers” of “touch-me-not” knows.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJ5dQ_Pdfac

Conversely, sometimes, animals move very little; e.g, bears hibernate; caterpillars form a chrysalis; people sleep (though they move during some phases of sleep). The male angler fish is much smaller than the female and spends its life essentially as an immobile parasite perched on the female until their blood supplies merge. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4LPmjQoc_A

On the whole though, our great branch of the tree of life evolved to move. And, when we do not move, there are problems for us physically. A complication to watch out for with broken ribs, for instance, is pneumonia. Why? For two reasons, I believe. First, because when it hurts to move generally, you generally move less. I won’t be playing tennis for a few weeks. That can affect overall health and decrease the amount of air that I need to exchange with my lungs as well. Second, it specifically hurts to take a deep breath. So, that also discourages me from taking deep, cleansing breaths. It discourages me, but I do it anyway. 

It seems as though we may be touching on a general principle here. When an organism believes, for whatever reason, that the result of an action will be pain, it tends not take that action. Sometimes, it will be otherwise goaded into that action to avoid still great pain, but all the while, that organism will procrastinate, avoid, distract, and only take the painful action if absolutely cornered. It’s good to breathe deep even though it’s painful. 

This piece of knowledge turns out to be quite useful in understanding the behavior of others as well. If I observe you to be avoiding doing something even though it has an obvious benefit to you, I then tend to assume that you fear something else even more; you anticipate pain. Just to take a random example, let’s suppose that a court demands that you present a piece of evidence and you refuse even though it would be a chance to clear you name. It’s at least a reasonable assumption, that you fear something else more; e.g., that the truth would implicate you in wrongdoing. You would want to slow everything down as much as possible. This would be particularly effective in the court of public opinion because any one particular topic might eventually become boring to the public. 

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It could work in more minor cases as well. If you are a kid and you steal cookies from the cookie jar, you could take the tack of denying it, blaming your little brother, suggesting the tooth fairy did it, convince your little brother than he should claim he stole them in order to win your favor, etc. There are a variety of tactics that could be employed. Most kids, however, are taught that honesty is the best policy. Although they don’t instantaneously become ethical on that account, eventually most see, by virtue of their own experience, that honesty really is the best policy. 

Even for those who continue to lie in their words, their actions typically betray them. 

Mother: “Who stole the cookies?” 

Kid: “What cookies? It wasn’t me!” 

Mother: “Can I inspect your hands?” 

Kid (hastily thrusting his hands behind his back): “It wasn’t me! There’s nothing on my hands! No cookie crumbs! No cookie crumbs! (Kid brushes hands together audibly behind his back). Better check on my sister! She probably did it!” 

red string lights on clear mason har

Photo by Rahul on Pexels.com

The poor kid continues to lie, but the structure of his actions; viz., to block Mom’s investigation, betrays the truth.  

It will pretty obvious to Mom. Unless —unless, Mom went into the room already convinced that sister stole the cookies. Because the body is not the only thing that it takes energy to move. It also takes energy, in some sense, to change one’s mind. It also takes energy to block out the truth, of course, but only at first. If you do it often enough, it becomes painless and effortless. 

One nearly universal example is the “blind spot” in the human retina. The place where the optic nerve exits the eyeball does not, itself, have any sensors. If you close your left eye, it appears that your right eye has no blind spot. It seems as though you have “full view” of what’s out there. In actuality, some of what you “see” has been constructed by the rest of your nervous system. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blind_spot_(vision)

What other blind spots do we have? We like to be mobile. We’re all in a hurry. But if we have blind spots and don’t even know that they’re there, we might just miss a step and break a rib or two. Maybe we’ve learned to ignore the kid brushing the cookie crumbs from his hands behind his back for far too long. But are we also so blind we cannot see the kid who’s still got his hand  in the cookie jar? Yes, that one. The one six inches in front of our face.  

It might be painful at first. But take a deep breath. Move the fresh air in and out of your lungs. It may hurt a bit, but it’s a cure that’s far better than the disease. 


Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: The Beginning of the First Book

Myths of the Veritas: The Beginning of the Second Book

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

 

The Ashes of ROI

03 Monday Jun 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, management, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

greed, legend, mercy, myth, politics, ROI, story

The make-shift crutch that Tu-Swift fashioned for himself worked pretty well. He made a few adjustments along the way; for example, roughening up the grip so his hand wouldn’t slip and tying some sphagnum moss round the upper cross-piece. Tu-Swift forced himself to use all his skills to remain unseen. It felt to him that this was a complete waste of time, but he did it because tingles of intuition can be accurate…or they can be completely misleading. At least, that’s what She Who Saves Many Lives said and so did Many Paths. 

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Suddenly the image of Many Paths playing “Stalked and Stalker” with him last autumn flashed into his mind. It burned so vividly that he could smell the autumn leaves. She had hidden beneath the hanging roots of an over-turned tree. Many Paths had also obliterated any sign of her path. Instead of searching, Tu-Swift had closed his eyes and imagined he was Many Paths. Then, he opened his eyes and scanned them over the landscape, not to find Many Paths but to be Many Paths trying to find herself a good hiding place. The first place he had spotted was the over-turned tree. Indeed, Tu-Swift had found her very quickly. He had explained his intuition; he had been quite proud of it. Many Paths, however, praised him but then also warned him that such intuitions were not always correct. It’s fine to try but don’t assume it will always work or be accurate, she had warned. 

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Tu-Swift brought himself back to the present. Hadn’t he been half day-dreaming when the People Who Steal Children kidnapped him? Perhaps if he had been more vigilant…. And yet, he could not shake the eerie feeling that he alone existed in the entire universe. His plan for pre-cooked meat soon revealed itself to be smoke. 

He found many small cooked animal corpses all right and one burned deer, but they were all burned to a crisp. They were nearly indistinguishable from the corpses of fallen trees. I will continue to be wary, he promised himself, but if I were one of The People Who Steal Children and I saw a forest fire coming my way, I would not head back out into the forest and plain! I would try to get away from it. Head for dessert or water. I might grab a few things, but I’d be trying to save my life. I wouldn’t be interested in organizing or joining a search party for some missing kids. Not even ones that are mischievous enough to let out your horses. Well, they would be pretty upset about that one. Yes, they might put a price on my head for that. But they may not even know it was me. Unless they captured Day-Nah. 

brown drift wood

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Day-Nah, Shadow Walker, Fleet-of-Foot — who knew whether any of them were okay? I barely outran the fire myself and I’m already one of the fastest in the village. Well, not now, maybe, but I was. And, soon will be again. I hope. What if…what if I can’t run? Bear Bite used to be a fast runner too. But never after that bear chewed the back of his leg. So, some injuries you never get over. All the more reason for continued caution. 

What Tu-Swift now lacked in mobility, he attempted to compensate for with thoughtfulness. Despite having the feeling that the woods were empty, he constantly scanned the surrounding area, not only for signs of approaching enemies but also for possible hiding places for himself and for places that would not be thought of by The People Who Steal Children. 

In this tense manner, Tu-Swift continued to hobble through the margin of the burned forest until he found himself at the edge of the very village he had worked so hard to escape. The entire area looked like the morning after a giant’s campfire. Parts of many building stood, charred and darkened spikes; they were everywhere. He could see one blackened side of the barn still standing. Tu-Swift began to walk toward it when he heard a moan. It could be a trap he thought. 

Tu-Swift turned his head this way and that. He thought to himself that the sound seemed to be coming from the remains of building where I put the broken quills and bows. Speaking of which, what weapon do I have? I can use the sharp rock I brought with me. And, the crutch which I could use as a club or as a thrusting weapon. There were more weapons in that room. At least, I think so. They may have all been taken out. 

As he cautiously hobbled toward the entrance, Tu-Swift heard the moaning growing louder. 

More likely than a trick, he thought, would be a survivor of the fire, badly burned or broken, but still possibly quite dangerous. You can’t really count on anything, Tu-Swift thought to himself. You can be sitting at a feast enjoying yourself and then you wake up in a cell. These people kidnapped me. They stole Day-Nah as well and they are mean to the horses. Why do they steal kids? Whoever it is, they can suffer in pain. In fact, I might be able to add to it. Why don’t they leave other people alone? 

By the time Tu-Swift reached what used to be the doorway of the armory, he had managed to generate a good deal of hate toward the moaner. Tu-Swift had imagined cautiously peering in as he opened the door, sharp rock at the ready. But there was no need. Part of the door and frame remained standing but there was a wide gap on either side. He peered into the charred skeleton of the building. His eyes fastened upon something on the far wall. As he drew nearer, he could see that it was a sword. A far better weapon, he thought, than a sharp rock. Using it and the crutch will be a challenge, he thought. He picked it up and felt the blade. 

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It was sharp like the Veritas weapons, but it was smooth; it was even. It felt immensely powerful in his hand. Tu-Swift again heard the moan and it seemed to be emanating from the earth below him. After hobbling about in the mostly empty armory, Tu-Swift found a large door ring on the floor. It seemed to be fashioned from the same kind of stuff as his sword. He pulled up the door and he could see a staircase before him. He lay on the floor and peered over the edge. He could see four shadowy figures who seemed to wave about in the dim light. They began talking excitedly or some of them did. The moaning continued. One of them drew near and Tu-Swift clutched his sword more tightly. 

Even in the dim light, Tu-Swift could see that a beautiful young women stood below him talking. But he had no idea what she was saying. It was that same language all these child-stealers spoke. Maybe he should kill her, but he didn’t really feel like it. Two more figures joined the young lady. They were all female. But one figure, the moaning figure, remained rolling and writhing on the floor in the shadows. 

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Suddenly, Tu-Swift recognized the voice despite it’s inhuman quality. It was the one that he and Day-Nah had called “The Fat Man.” He had actually been the nicest of the three that made them cull horses and shovel manure, but he was one of them – the People who Steal Children. He had a sudden vision of ending the man’s life by thrusting his sword through his belly button. For a split-second, Tu-Swift recalled that image of himself on the right when his mind had been trifurcated. He pushed that image aside. 

Tu-Swift slowly descended the staircase, awkwardly carrying his crutch and sword with him. When he reached the bottom, he gestured for the three women to move away from him. Cautiously glancing all around, he made his way over to The Fat Man. His young eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light. The Fat Man turned toward him and Tu-Swift nearly vomited at the sight. He had never seen someone with such a disfigured face. Once again, he was tempted, this time out of mercy more than anger, to end this man’s anguish. He looked into his eyes. It was one thing to hate an enemy in one’s mind and even kill them there — but it was quite another to look your enemy in the eye and kill him in real life. 

Instead of thrusting a sword through the belly of The Fat Man, he gestured to him that he would go and come back with some plants to help heal his body. All four of the People Who Steal Children were now jabbering at him. It seemed they were asking questions, but he couldn’t even be sure of that. I should really learn more languages, he scolded himself. 

Tu-Swift ascended the staircase, this time sitting on the stairs and going up one at a time. He had a plan of which plants to gather. He had noticed them near the corral. Once he made his way back outside however, he surveyed the camp and realized that these herbs would have been destroyed along with everything else. Trees, buildings, animals, plants, healing herbs, beautiful flowers, food supplies — it had all been destroyed. Tu-Swift promised himself that he would collect a small piece of charred wood to remind himself of the destructive power of fire — and of greed and lying — as personified in the Myth of the Orange Man. If he ever returned to the Veritas Center Place, he swore he would look at it every day and remember the face of The Fat Man. 

blur charcoal close up dirty

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

———————————

The Myth of the Orange Man

The Start of the Myths of the Veritas

The Beginning of Book Two of the Myths of the Veritas

Author Page on Amazon

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