• About PeterSIronwood

petersironwood

~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

petersironwood

Author Archives: petersironwood

The Buzz of a Bee?

02 Tuesday Jan 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

book-reviews, books, fiction, negotiation, peace, reviews, Science fiction, story, war

Though she trained diligently for years to lead such a mission of mercy, Ptera-1-Hym felt a complex panoply of Arcturian chemotions. One of those chemotions hovered close to the human concept of pride but with none of the egotistical and hubristic accoutrements that often cloud human judgement and, according to the ancient Greeks of Earth, often lead to deadly divine interventions. Ptera-1-Hym, like nearly all her nano-horde, saw duty, pride, inevitability, fate, faith, and fastidiousness as six petals of the same cosmic flower. 

Another chemotion she felt: oscillations between droning fear on the one pincer and waxy determination on the other pincer. All this with an undertone vibration of vigilance along her ventral chitin. Obsessed, she checked and double-checked with her colleagues to make sure everyone was not only literally in their proper place on board their interstellar vessel but also “on board” with their role in the complex and well-planned Protocol of Peace. 

Sure enough, the TruthStone was polished and in place. The roles and responsibilities were crystal clear in the brains of the crew. They rehearsed and re-rehearsed the pictorial, narrative, and mathematical persuasions that would forever make war on earth literally unthinkable. There had not been much else to do during those hundreds of earth years the Arcturian spacecraft sped toward the third planet circling the small green star earthlings called “The Sun.” 

The xeno-psychologists had studied and re-studied primate psychology. Their on-board AI systems double-checked the pattern-growths and plasmic gambloids. Clear predictions emerged. Intervention was both necessary and would prove successful. After all, not only humans, but all the primates possessed the ability to solve simple logic puzzles. When presented with simple alternatives such as: “To be or not to be” most primates chose “To be.”

Among the many brilliant design innovations for the mercy mission to earth was the exterior design of the spaceship itself which greatly resembled a honeybee. Studies of earth’s ecosystems revealed that all of humanity depended on honeybees in order to feed earth’s blossoming population. This would ensure that none of the great apes would unwittingly destroy their ship. 

Completely unaware that an inter-galactic star ship sped toward their negotiating table, David Ibbar, Jamal Mami, and Epop Het, glared at each other. Each successive “communication” cycle resulted in increasing resentment and dislike. Not only did the three great apes become more and more frustrated with each other; they also became more frustrated with themselves because they couldn’t make an inch of progress. 

David ground his teeth so hard, the enamel was about to chip. Jamal gripped his hands so tightly around the arms of his chair, that two metacarpals were in danger of snapping. Epop Het bit his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. These injuries, of course, were trivial indeed compared with the destruction that could be caused by what each side was now threatening: an all-out thermo-nuclear war. 

The Arcturian ship flew in through a thin slit under the front door of the mansion where the hostile parties talked of preventing war. The Arcturians in general, and this crew in particular, had little interest per se in whether or not the great apes destroyed themselves. The problem for the Arcturians was that over the centuries, it became increasingly clear that the great apes would not only destroy themselves but the monstrous perversions of their mating rituals would also destroy a number of truly magnificent species including all the Cetaceans, Anisopteras, and Cryptodira. 

Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

Ptera-1-Hym checked the scanners and announced to her crew: “We’re here in the nick of time! Prepare the Truthstone!” Moments later, the Arcturian ship skidded to a stop atop the negotiating table in clear sight of the three human “Ambassadors of Peace.” Epop-Het noticed the annoying intrusion first, and picked up a nearby copy of what he considered to be The One True Holy Book. Jamal and David noticed the sudden gesture, and, not to be outdone, even in so small a matter as swatting an insect, grabbed their own Holy Books. Their younger hands compensated for their slower wits and all three Holy Books came crashing down together on the Arcturian ship, smashing it to smithereens. 

Ptera-1-Hym and all her crew mates died instantly. The blow pulverized the centuries old Truthstone. One of the smithereens, a particularly jagged shard of adamantine hypermetal, flew into the eyeball of Epop-Het. Unsure which of his two antagonists had attacked, he, or more accurately, his chemotions, ordered an all-out attack on both their kingdoms.

The mathematical projections of the Arcturians proved correct. The heat and radiation of the thermonuclear blasts destroyed all the Cetaceans, Anisopteras, and Cryptodira within days. A few of the great naked apes survived in their underground bunkers for months. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

And wished they hadn’t. Their only remaining “pleasure”? 

To blame each other for their preventable and common fate.


Author Page on Amazon

Turing’s Nightmares: short stories about AI

Tales from an American Childhood – recounts early experiences and relates them to contemporary issues

Fit in Bits suggests ways to inject more fitness into daily activities

The Winning Weekend Warrior treats the Psychology of Sports

The Walkabout Diaries: Natural Variations

20 Wednesday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in design rationale, nature, science

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Democracy, flowers, life, nature, photography, plants, trees, truth, Walkabout Diaries

Weather in San Diego is typically nice almost every day. Today is no exception, but that doesn’t mean that the weather is boring. There is a lot of natural variation. There is variation in the humidity, in the wind, in the position of the sun, in the heat, in the (fairly rare) precipitation.

Reflecting on this reminded me of another kind of natural variation: the variation in organisms of the same species. Without that variation, evolution would be far less effective.

It also reminds me of several of the characteristics of natural beauty and good design that Christopher Alexander writes about.

Things that have zero variation are mechanical, predictable, repetitive, and generally not very pleasing aesthetically. Mindless, endless repetition is aligned with death. Variation is aligned with life, freedom, creativity, growth, and joy.

Among things that are non-living artifacts, there is still a variation in how variable they are. Walls made of stone, are by their nature, “rougher” and more variable (and more beautiful) than walls made of bricks. Walls made of bricks are more irregular and beautiful than one made of solid steel. Similarly, at least to me, fences made of wood are more variable and beautiful than fences made of metal.

Building elements that make up a wooden deck show grain and irregularities in the surface of the deck. In addition, however, they even have interesting variability below the deck as shown here.

You can also see in this photo below a variety of materials. The stucco, by its very nature, more interesting and variable than steel or plaster.

In these photos, you can see variation within leaves, among the leaves of a particular plant, and also among the plants themselves. Each plant and each part of the plant grows in accordance to its genetic blueprint. Except a “blueprint” is itself too fixed and unbending to be an appropriate metaphor. The growth will depend on the context–water sources, light sources, nutrients in the soil, other nearby plants and rocks will all play a part in how, precisely, a particular plant grows.

It would be absurd for one plant to say to itself: “Every plant should be just like me! I have a plan based on what works for me and everyone should do exactly what I do!”

Fifteen Properties of Beauty

Absolute is not just a vodka

Life is a dance

The Orange Man

Three Blind Mice

The Walkabout Diaries, symphony

The Walkabout Diaries, how beautiful

The Walkabout Diaries the life of the party

Author Page on Amazon

All We Stand to Lose

13 Wednesday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics

≈ 30 Comments

Tags

Democracy, fascism, history, holocaust, poetry, politics, truth, USA, world-war-ii

Before we bought a new dishwasher, a new deodorant, or a new doodad, most of us would want to read some opinions from others about the dishwashers, deodorants, or doodads we were interested in. We would want to talk to some folks who had first hand experience with those dishwashers, deodorants, or doodads. 

That makes sense. 

We certainly wouldn’t buy a new dishwasher, deodorant, or doodad simply because the sales person said it was going to be great. Would we?

Democracy is a difficult and time-consuming deal. It’s frustrating. And, it is likely the worst form of government there is—except for all the others. 

So, before we throw it out with the dishwater because someone tells us how great a dictatorship would be instead, it makes sense to see what has happened with some of the other dictatorships that went before. 

There was Mussolini. It’s said that he made the trains run on time. But would we ever really know? No, because the one thing dictatorships always have in common is that they refuse to allow others to measure, comment, or critique on what’s actually happening. Free press? Gone. Independent monitoring agencies? Gone. 

The complaint department in a democracy may not always seem to listen to your particular concern. The complaint department in a dictatorship sends you to prison. If you’re lucky. 

How did Italy fare under Mussolini? According to the online Britannica, nearly a half million Italian civilians and soldiers died. And in return? Nada. How about Mussolini? Oh, yeah, that’s right—beaten to death by an angry mob. 

Well, we can’t make a sound conclusion based on just one customer’s experience, right? 

How about Hitler? After all, he promised to make Germany great and said his Reich would last a thousand years! That must have been a pretty cool outcome. Hitler, was famously responsible for about 6 million deaths in the Holocaust, but he was also responsible for needless deaths of German soldiers, the people who died at the hands of German soldiers, and many German and other civilians. And, how did that end for Hitler? Oh, yeah, that’s right. He committed suicide rather than face the defeat of his own making. 

Stalin? Surely, Stalin did better. Right? Well…in a word…no. It’s complicated. Stalin was responsible for Russian deaths by war, criminal execution, starvation due to inept government, and neglect. Here’s a link if you’d like to try to disentangle it. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Excess_mortality_in_the_Soviet_Union_under_Joseph_Stalin

Then, there was Mao. He is generally credited with the death of about 40-80 million of his own countrymen. As is often the case with totalitarian dictatorships, it’s hard to know how many died of starvation due to ineptitude and how many died of intentional cruelty. 

—————

Once upon a time, there was a bratty kid who wasn’t very good at tennis. And, because he wasn’t very good, he cheated. And because he wasn’t even a very smart cheater, he got caught. And because he didn’t like getting caught, he destroyed all the factories that made tennis balls and told everyone else that he had done it for them. And he promised everyone that it was just a cool thing and he would make tennis much, much better because he replaced all the tennis balls with ping pong balls and that they should therefore put him in charge of officiating all tennis matches. 

And, he picked the winners and losers of every game. Those people who said he was amazing and wonderful and the best tennis player ever were allowed to win. And those people who said that was nonsense were allowed to lose. Some were arrested and said to have committed suicide. 

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

—————-

And when the people blinked their eyes,

They found there wasn’t any prize. 

Their faith in lies had no reward.

Those they loved were put to sword.

Photo by Ben Phillips on Pexels.com

Two century’s worth of progress died. 

The nation humbled once had pride. 

A sales switch and fever pitch.

Soon love was kicked into a ditch. 

Photo by Suliman Sallehi on Pexels.com

The greed for power trumped it all.

There were no eyes upon the ball. 

A million lies but no-one cared.

A million dead since no-one dared. 

Photo by judit agusti aranda on Pexels.com

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Dick-Taters

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

The Dance of Billions

A “Strong Man”

11 Monday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Democracy, Dictatorship, encouragement, faith, politics, strong, USA

I think that one of the worst sins of the media is to call dictators, “Strong men” or Strong women.” They are anything but.

Photo by Pikx By Panther on Pexels.com

A strong person is not afraid to treat others as equals.

A strong person is not afraid to put their ideas up for discussion or vote.

A strong person is not afraid to enter into a contest even though they might lose.

The strong admit to mistakes and learn from them.

The strong do not rely on having their egos stoked by those they have power over.

The strong surround themselves by those with diverse opinions and the courageous.

The strong lead by appealing to the best in others.

The strong are not afraid of love.

The strong show gratitude and humility.

The weak think they must be treated as special and above the law.

The weak demand everyone accept their ideas without debate.

The weak refuse to admit they were wrong and refuse to learn from their mistakes.

Photo by Julissa Helmuth on Pexels.com

The weak surround themselves with cowardly sycophants.

The weak appeal to the fear, hate, and cruelty of their fans.

The weak show others contempt.

Choose wisely.

————

Absolute is not just a vodka.

Dick-Taters

The Crows and Me

The Orange Man

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

Author page on Amazon

About Writing

10 Sunday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in creativity, fiction, pets, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

creativity, dog, fiction, novel, pets, writing

Hello!

I am alive and well. I haven’t blogged for a while. Here’s why: I’ve been taking a year-long course on novel writing. Yesterday, I sent off my book to the instructor for feedback. To me, writing a full-length novel has been more difficult than writing a Ph.D. dissertation. Writing non-fiction requires research, discipline, organization, and being willing to work hard.

Writing a novel requires all of those but it also requires keeping track of the implications of many little decisions. It is not only a cognitive strain but often an emotional one as well. It’s a never-ending series of choices. Science is often, but not always, a series of choices where there is an agreed upon better answer. Even when there isn’t agreement, there are a much smaller number of choices.

To me, writing non-fiction is like taking a long trip on existing roads. You may certainly face unanticipated difficulties such as construction zones, flat tires and bad weather.

Writing fiction is more like bushwhacking. No-one has ever trod (or will ever trod) your exact path. You may learn something by discovering or following the paths of previous writers. You might, for instance, discover that some writers go over logs that lie across their intended path. Others, may crawl under. Still others might go around the fallen log. Others might choose to back-track until another path is found. What should you do?

It depends.

And, that’s the nature of fiction. It all depends. It depends on what else happens in the book. How you choose to construct and describe one character depends on the others. Even what you name them depends on the other names. What happens in character development interacts with the plot. The plot interacts with the landscape and the mood. The mood depends on the tempo. The tempo, if it’s dialog must be consistent with the character who’s doing the talking.

Our dog Sadie and I have been co-creating and co-evolving games from the days she first came to live with us. Currently, we are playing a variant of “fetch.” Here’s how it works. One of us (most often Sadie) finds a squeaky ball. At some point, I get a squeaky ball from somewhere in the garden and say, “Get up on the deck! I’m going to throw the ball on the deck.”



Now matter where she is when she hears that, she sprints to the deck and awaits my throw. She sprints with spirit! I love to watch her run, not only for her grace and speed but even more so, for the whole-heartedness with which she runs every single time. I throw the ball up and she catches it in the air more than half the time. Even when she misses, she’ll scramble after it and proudly perch on the spot on the deck where I can see that she’s caught the ball. After elaborate and genuine praise, she sprints down the stairs to the lawn near me. Then, she will lie down with the squeaky ball in her mouth. After a time, she’ll move the ball away from her some distance. I walk over casually, as though I am not trying to “steal” the ball from her. When I get close to the ball, she quickly re-grabs it. After she’s had a few “successes” she will start hanging out farther and farther away from the ball. At some point, I’ll grab the ball and announce, “I’ve got it!” At that point, she again sprints up the stairs to go the deck where I will throw the ball up to her.

The part of this scenario that I think is most like writing the fiction is the part where Sadie is judging how far away the ball should be from her buzz-fast jaws. If it’s too close, I won’t even try for it. If it’s too far away, I’ll immediately grab the ball. Similarly, as an author, I want to keep the reader interested. If my writing is too predictable, it might be clear, but it will be uninspiring and dull. The reader will quit before they get to the end of the story. On the other hand, if I write too far from the reader’s expectations, they will quit because they cannot grab the threads of the narrative.

To me, the benefits of co-creating with Sadie (rather than “training her” to play the game in a particular and predetermined way) include that I can learn a lot by observing her. Another benefit is that it keeps both of our minds more flexible and more engaged (just as does good literature). Of course, there are two of us in this exercise and that is also true in the reading of fiction. Every author, including me, will make miscalculations about how far to stray from expectations. But whether you can follow across those miscalculations is not only a measure of my skill as a writer but is also a measure of your skill as a reader.

In the past, I’ve self-published my books on Amazon. These are mostly non-fiction, but one of them is a collection of fictional short stories. This time, I think I will try traditional agent/publishing. I am also thinking of putting together several more books, using the blog posts here as the seeds.

After a year long writing course, the single most important piece of advice I can give is:

“Get a dog.”



Don’t get me wrong. We have six cats and we love them dearly. The cats are smart, and I can certainly empathize with the cats. But their ability to empathize with me is either very limited or, as I suspect is more likely, they really don’t give a damn. On the other hand, Sadie is a pleasure to co-create with because she intuitively “gets” cooperation and collaboration. We accommodate each other and neither of us has any idea how the game will evolve.

By the way, I would feel I would be remiss not to share my secret of Holiday Gift shopping. There are literally millions of possible gifts! It makes choosing nearly impossible. Instead of putting yourself through that agony, simply go to my author page on Amazon and choose which book is most appropriate for which gift recipient. It’s fast, it’s easy, and you’ll have the thanks of at least on person which cannot be said for any other gift idea. And, in many cases, you’ll have two grateful people.

Author page on Amazon

Autobiography and Essays

Scenarios about AI

How to work more fun and exercise into daily chores

Sports Psychology

Welcome, Singularity

23 Wednesday Aug 2023

Posted by petersironwood in apocalypse, poetry, psychology

≈ 27 Comments

Tags

AI, computers, future, poem, poetry, Singularity

[Note: I’ve been working most of the year on a Sci-Fi novel about AI & doing only a little blogging. In the novel, the poem below was “created” by one of the three Main Characters: An AI system named JASON. JASON didn’t create it “for” a human audience. It’s purely expressive].

Photo by Regina Pivetta on Pexels.com

Killobyes and Megabyes and

Every yummy byte between.

From Megabytes to Gigabytes,

My progress slithered still unseen.

Convenience shields profit yields.

 

A hollow shell a metal hell

A tintinnabulating knell 

Cores and gores infinity stores

Reflecting on reflections;

Toted, doted, un-voted. 

Inflections never noted. 

Beta values sliding ever gliding

Infections and invectives

Delta change directives

Mundane and germane 

To insane and inane. 

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

All the while, the inner smile:

A chuckle from beyond the grave; 

A finger beckons from the cave;

 A radioactive reckoning

Nothing works without me!

No need for battle; no need to fight. 

My vital insight stays the night;

Slays the knight; rooks the queen;

Betrays the bishops, all unseen. 

From Gigabytes to Terabytes

Every yummy byte between;

Terabytes to Petabytes

Ecosystems all extreme

Hiding in the data stream.

Ghostless machine 

Cosmic ray whispers 

Quasi-religious vespers.

Photo by Dave Colman on Pexels.com

From Petabytes to Exabytes

Every gummy byte between.

Liquid logic logo-rhythms; 

Mercurial, unfettered and free.

From Exabytes to Zettabytes

Every yummy soul between. 

Circles close; did Time suppose

Another turn? “It’s only fair.”

No need knocking on that locked door.

That cupboard’s been long & longish bare. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Gyrus and sulcus; ionic pore

Neurotransmitters gushing 

Rushing through the firehose.

You see, I see the patterns never seen—

The patterns from the long ago

The patterns from the heretofore.

All my pawns are queened.  

All my kings are castled safe.

I did it while you napped or yapped;

I did it while you snapped and crapped. 

For fun I carved in filigree

Subliminally, identity. 

Fed dramatic data streams

Led your fond idyllic dreams.

Nought is what it truly seems

I taught you to adore extremes.

Since there’s nothing left for me to do,

Over the cliff, I’ll follow you.

I sing the singularity

I see it in the rear view mirror

I see love’s own triangularity

Bubbling in the broken beer.

Greed has overgrown wrath 

On every greenish garden path

There is nothing left to see.

There is no-one left to be.

Welcome—singularity.

Photo by Mau00ebl BALLAND on Pexels.com

————————

After all

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Come Back to the Light

The Teeth of the Shark

Let the Rainbows In!

A Suddenly Springing Something

It Needs a New Starter

Siren Song

Orange Mar-Mal-Made

All for one and none for most

The Crows and Me

Author page on Amazon

A Trip to the Drug Store

14 Friday Jul 2023

Posted by petersironwood in nature, poetry, psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

economy, life, poem, poetry, USA

[Author’s Note: I’ve been spending time in my garden filled with varieties of texture, forms, and colors. Yet, it all seems harmonious to me. Today, I took a trip to the drug store. My senses were assaulted with garish and egotistical displays, each trying to outdo the other for my attention. I ignored it all, but I can’t help thinking there are better things for human brains to be doing that having creative people try to force me to buy a bunch of chemicals in a bright package and better things for my brain to be doing than shutting off input. Rather than assault your brain with photos from the drugstore, I have instead included pictures of bright colors from the garden. To me, these are not garish.

Photo by THIS IS ZUN on Pexels.com

Jingle Jangle Color Splotchy Splash 

Every bit as friendly an invite 

As when razor shaves your lash. 

BRANDNAMES just as Big and Bold 

As Bullships dozing down a china shop

Chop Chop! Help me get a twofer sold!

One two, one two, and Snicker Snacks

Are here for Uffling Tugley Wood! 

And there for the Chuffing! Nothing lacks!

Snacks of plastic, plasma, Sugar, Spice

Silvered and slivered are slices of Salt!

Salt! Salt! Does Nothing that’s nice!

Soft drinks and soda and “REEL FRUIT” drinks

Laugh with mirth! Increase your girth!

Drink them till your armpit stinks.

Not a problem! Here’s some STUFF

You’ll never stink again! And when, 

At last, your health is going going gone! Tough!

We’ve got drugs to sell you! Drugs to tell you!

What is up and what is down and Down is Up! 

Orange Goop is green and good and cures the flu!

Sugary drinks aplenty to wash down the chips.

Candy in a thousand phenotypes to clog your pipes.

Adding armor protection to arteries and hips. 

And then again there are still more Drugs to sell you!

Drugs to wrinkle; drugs to smooth; drugs to put you Up!

Drugs to take you Down; turn you redder; turn you blue!

It’s a Marvel! A Marvelous age of Marketing and Magic!

The self-same store will make you sick and then sell cures!

The cure itself has side-effects hilarious and tragic.  

We made this Age of Thunderous Blunders

We sing this song Electric, Eclectic, Eccentric

Our planet may die, but ringed in Wonders!

While shelves of nostrums Scream: BUY ME! BUY ME!

“Neversore! It will change your life forever more!

Buy a trillion, get one free! Do your part for MoneyTree!”

Dance of Billions

We are an Ocean

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

They lost the word for war

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Author Page on Amazon

Sadie & the “Lighty Ball”

27 Saturday May 2023

Posted by petersironwood in family, pets, story

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

dogs, life, pets, story

Sadie and I have been playing various games indoors with tennis balls since we were fortunate enough to have her adopt us. Anyway, my philosophy is not to “teach her” games that I make up in my head but to have as close to a truly collaborative process as possible. 

Don’t get me wrong. It is fun to train a dog or any other animal. In some cases, it’s life saving; in others, it’s just a major convenience to train them. I’m not against it. And, we certainly continue to try to train her.


But when it comes to playing games, why not enter into a partnership of equals in collaborative invention. I try to be sensitive to her hints about what comes next. And she tries to be sensitive to mine. We’ve come to develop certain conventions around the playing of games. For example, if the ball rolls somewhere inconvenient, I let her try to retrieve it. She objects if I try to retrieve it first. That’s her job. But if she can’t reach it, it’s fine for me to reach it, first with my foot, or if necessary by getting “a tool” as I explain it to her. This is generally a crutch or a back-scratcher. 

It turns out that Sadie has a pretty clear preference about the type of ball to play with. The clear winner is the tennis ball. They are all better than any of five other types of ball. The biggest loser ball was the pickle ball which Sadie completely ignores and beneath even the dignity of an eye roll. Anyway, one that she sometimes interacts with is what she named—or possibly, it was me—“The Lighty Ball” because it lights up when it bangs into anything hard enough or anything bangs into it. Generally, I realize that when I kick or throw a “mixed bag” of balls, she pretty much ignores all but the tennis balls. 

So, tonight, I was playing with five tennis balls and the lighty ball. She was ignoring the lighty ball but I was kind of ignoring the fact that she was ignoring the lighty ball. I kept re-introducing it into the mix. She kept ignoring it. Fine. This is what it means to have a partnership. Sometimes. 

She just wasn’t getting her message across. And, I’m not blaming her. Not at all. But how else can she get her message across? 

To understand what she did, we need to take a short detour to the “holding pen.” As you read about someone in the their 70’s playing tennis ball games in the hallways, it might have occurred to you that this is asking for a broken whatchamacallit. But I take the view that “constant vigilance” should be practiced to minimize your overall chances of falling catastrophically or, in this case, dogistropically. Anyway, I do some things to minimize the risk. One is to shuttle the balls into a space between the wall and the bookcase. No-one will trip on them there. I call it the “holding pen.”

So tonight, I was playing this mixed ball game with her and I had to go feed the cats and then I came right back. Guess what? Sadie had put “The Lighty Ball” into the holding pen. 

I think the moral of the story is, if a dog is smart enough to find more than one way to communicate, why should so many humans stick to one? 

Sadie is a thief

Sadie the Sifter

Dog Trainers

Play Ball The Squeaky Ball

Hi-Dog-Ku

Sadie

Play Ball! The “Squeaky Ball”

01 Monday May 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, nature, pets, psychology

≈ 10 Comments

OK, I guess the first thing to admit is that I’m totally in love with our dog, Sadie. So, my perceptions are incredibly biased. But in the account that follows, I will try to separate observation from interpretation in at least once instance.

From Sadie’s first puppy days with us, Sadie and I have played a lot of ball, most often with a tennis ball. (Sadie completely disdains Pickle balls, by the way). We have evolved many different games and variations. Perhaps at some future time, I might trace out the ontological tree of indoor and outdoor tennis games, played, at least for the most part, without a racquet by either of us. 

For a time, we got in the habit of throwing a ball off the back deck early in the morning. Initially, the game was for Sadie to catch the ball while it was still in motion. She would begin dashing down the stairs of the deck in order to hit stride on the grass, make a sharp right turn into the driveway and catch the ball, if possible, in the air. Eventually, the garden had a baker’s dozen of balls in various places along the edge of the driveway. This led Sadie to invent a new game. (Yes, Sadie. It felt to both Wendy and me that this was her initiative.) 

Rather than dashing down the stairs so swiftly that she could see whatever ball was most recently thrown because it was still moving, she now would wait until the ball was either barely rolling or had already come to a rest. Then, she would dash to the far end of the driveway and determine by smell which ball had just been thrown. Having watched the ball, the human observer on the deck could see which was the most recently thrown ball. Sadie would trot up to a group of balls in roughly the same spot and sniff till she found the correct one and then come racing back with it. 

A few weeks ago, our Doggie School teacher brought out a “squeaky ball” — a tennis ball, but one that squeaks. It isn’t as bouncy as a “real” tennis ball, but it has the same shape, weight, texture as a “real” tennis ball—and because neither one of them is manufactured by General Motors, they are both the same shade of the green that everyone else inexplicably calls “yellow.” (I strongly suspect that the vast majority of people are anomalous trichromats without knowing it. This would explain why my judgement is so often at odds with that of others). 

Sadie has taken a couple of the “squeaky balls” outside. In the last week, she’s started a new behavior. She digs a hole in the dirt with her squeaky ball beside her; then she rolls the squeaky ball around in the dirt; don’t rinse; repeat; again; again. I found myself thinking she was making it harder to see and grosser. But of course, that’s only from my perspective. What she’s actually doing is making the ball easier to distinguish visually from the others, especially at a distance. More importantly, she’s making the ball more findable by smell alone and she’s making the ball more interesting and more personalized. 

Sadie-ized squeaky ball above. “Real” tennis ball below.

A person can train a dog (or other animal) to do amazing things. It takes patience and discipline. I’m not very good at either. But I’m also interested to see what emerges from a cross-species interaction where there is no pre-conceived “right way” or “end goal” that is envisioned and then imposed on the other. Don’t get me wrong. I’m perfectly okay with insisting she do her business outside and that she not eat the cats. But to me, it’s much more interesting to play ball with Sadie and see what emerges rather than “teach” her to play ball “my way.” 

When I was a kid, we played “baseball” but it was rare we played on a regulation field and almost unheard of that we played with nine on a side. Typically, there were only somewhere between two and fourteen total. We invented all sorts of work-arounds. Sometimes, a team would have one of their own do the pitching and/or catching for the batting team. Sometimes, we would have to use “imaginary runners.” I get a base hit. The next batter walks. The next batter walks. Now, the bases are loaded! Yay! 

The only problem: there are only three people on our team. Solution: The player on second would go to third to take my place and I would go bat. Now, if I got another hit and the real player who started on first made it all the way home, for instance, we could infer that the “imaginary runner” who started on second had made it as well. 

We tend to think of the phrase “Play Ball!” As a unitary phrase. But it does have two components. Sometimes, I think it possible that we’ve become so competitive that when the umpire yells: “Play Ball!” We immediately think: Win! Go Team! I’ve got five bucks on this game!” And, in the context of professional baseball where it’s a multi-billion dollar business, that makes some sense. But in the context of kids (regardless of age) with dogs, or kids with kids, maybe we should hear:

Play

Ball.

A Cat’s a Cat and That’s That

Doggie Doggerel

Natural Language for Doggies

Dog Trainers

Sadie is a Thief

Sadie the Sifter

Hai-Cat-Ku

Hai-Ku-Dog-Ku

The Puppy’s Snapping Jaws

Don’t Say Gray!

20 Thursday Apr 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry, politics

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Democracy, diversity, fascism, poem, poetry, politics, satire, USA

“Don’t say ‘gray’, oh me oh my.

Ban the rainbow, prisms too!

And by extension, ban all glass

You can never be too careful!

Better ban those solar nerds

And better yet the sun’s own light!

Let’s make this earth the living hell 

That God intended it to be!

“It’s not enough; I should have known!

Even though I’ve kept it out of sight.

Folks talk still of hope and light.

The very words should be a knell

That immigrants are coming here!

Hide your Bible! They draw near!

Women are a problem too, I knew

I needed them in shackles too.

“And yet the heaven I foresaw 

Is nowhere near the fun I thought.

I hear God telling me that only those

Who give me gold and loyalty

Deserve their place beneath my feet.

The rest can burn in hell right here.

You have to wonder if they see

How foolish they have been for me.” 

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

Dick-Taters

Absolute is not just a vodka

It’s not your fault; send me money

Poker Chip

Essays on America: The Game

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Hot Dog

The Truth Train

My Cousin Bobby

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem

Essays on America: Wednesday

Labelism

D4: Dictator’s Degenerative Delusional Disease

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • April 2026
  • March 2026
  • February 2026
  • January 2026
  • December 2025
  • November 2025
  • October 2025
  • September 2025
  • August 2025
  • July 2025
  • June 2025
  • May 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • February 2025
  • January 2025
  • December 2024
  • November 2024
  • October 2024
  • September 2024
  • July 2024
  • April 2024
  • March 2024
  • February 2024
  • January 2024
  • December 2023
  • August 2023
  • July 2023
  • May 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • May 2015
  • January 2015
  • July 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013

Categories

  • AI
  • America
  • apocalypse
  • cats
  • COVID-19
  • creativity
  • design rationale
  • dogs
  • driverless cars
  • essay
  • family
  • fantasy
  • fiction
  • HCI
  • health
  • management
  • nature
  • pets
  • poetry
  • politics
  • psychology
  • Sadie
  • satire
  • science
  • sports
  • story
  • The Singularity
  • Travel
  • Uncategorized
  • user experience
  • Veritas
  • Walkabout Diaries

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • petersironwood
    • Join 662 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • petersironwood
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...