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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Lying to your Kids

13 Sunday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Democracy, essay, fiction, politics, Resistance, story, truth, USA

Lying to your Children: Lie for me

The squealing brakes startled Josh awake. He screamed. Only for a moment. Because he felt as much as heard, that something was wrong. Beside him, in the driver’s seat, Josh’s dad, Ron, cursed incoherently, though remarkably loudly & quickly. After a few moments of this, Ron turned to Josh like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Josh had no idea what he had done wrong, but he anticipated the usual slap. Only harder. He closed his eyes.

No slap came. Instead, Ron grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him while screaming: “Listen to me! Open your eyes! Look at me! Nothing happened! Got it? Nothing happened! Say it! Tell me nothing happened!” 

Josh was more than fully awake now. He was used to going from sleep to panic in one thunderous heartbeat ever since Mom had run off with that Jared guy. But what nothing was dad talking about…? Suddenly, Josh remembered … there was a heavy THUD! Someone had screamed. They must have hit someone. Now, Dad’s trying to cover it up. 

Running through the entire list of strategies in his communications playbook, Ron decided that if his son didn’t understand, it was now necessary to repeat what was said before but more loudly and with stronger shaking of the shoulders and with an even more menacing look. So, that’s what he did. 

But this time Josh had worked it out. He knew what was required.
“Daddy! Nothing happened!” 

Ron’s face melted back into one that looked vaguely human as he said, “That’s right! That’s right! And, now listen here! This is important! If anyone else asks you, you just say you don’t know nothing and nothing happened. You got that?” 

Josh nodded solemnly, pretending to be completely in awe of and compliant for Ron — something he had learned long ago as a survival strategy.  

The police interview went something like this: 

Police Officer: “So Josh. Tell me about where you were and what you did last evening.” 

Josh: “Sure, Officer. Nothing happened. I mean I went with my dad to see that new movie, The Raiders of the Lost Arc. It was great! And, then, nothing happened. I don’t remember. My dad drove home and I fell asleep. Nothing happened. I don’t remember. Any other questions?” 

Police Officer: “Josh, did your daddy tell you to say that nothing happened? Did he make you promise?” 

Josh: “I don’t remember! Nothing happened!”

Police Officer: “Okay, Josh. I think we get the picture. Thank you for your help.

Josh went out and saw his dad about to be taken into an interrogation room. As he passed by, Josh used a stage whisper to his dad: “I did just like you told me, Dad.” 

Photo by Cameron Casey on Pexels.com

Dad was put away for a good long time. 

Sadly, although Josh came out ahead in this particular snippet of his life, learning to become a more clever liar is not really a good long-term strategy. Josh discovered this for himself, on the way down. Oddly, people said, he was killed by the fall. Of course, in truth, very few people die from falls, per se. It is the landing that kills. 


Moral of the Story: Telling a lie to your kids is like giving them a poison. 

Sometimes, it’s fast acting poison.

Sometimes, it’s slow acting poison. 

But it’s always poison.

And, here’s the real magic of it. It’s poison for the lie teller as well! Yes, indeed! It is a double-edged sword extraordinaire because it cuts the sword wielder as well as the sword shielder. 

Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com

Can you ever imagine that you would intentionally tell your kid the wrong way to perform a skill so that they would get fewer hits, or throw more errors, or serve more double faults, or hurt themselves with tools? Of course not! If they were about to go into a road race, would you cut their brake lines? Of course not! But propagating a lie is exactly like that — handicapping one’s own children in their coming attempts to survive in this world.

Propagating a lie is a big deal. And propagating a Big Lie is an even bigger deal. Whatever the reason, it’s something whose harm is more like a plague or a cancer than a punch. The poison spreads often well beyond the liar and the original target of the lie. When more people lie in the society, there is less trust. When there is less trust, there is more need for regulation and coordination. That inevitably results in friction. So long as all parties play by the rules and tell the truth, it will eventually be resolved and there will be an increase in trust. However, if one side cheats and lies, no matter who wins, there will be a ripple of distrust all through society. 

Which is kind of the point, you see? 

Josh’s dad Ron may not have known how his actions would undermine his own life as well as his son’s. But the people trying to destroy American Democracy? They know exactly why they’re spreading lies and what it will mean. They are spreading the cancer of distrust and division intentionally. Why? Because dividing is how the few conquer the many. It’s a playbook that has been run over and over and over in human history.

Think about it. 

How can a relatively small group of criminals take over a country? They can do it by distracting everyone else into thinking the enemy is not the crime gang but the other victims of the theft of a nation. They cannot possibly do it by telling the truth. The truth is that only the ruling crime family will necessarily benefit by a dictatorship. Nor can the Crime Family take over by force. There are far too few of them. And, they are cowards to boot. They could co-opt the military. They tried that but it didn’t work. 

Telling poisonous lies is their major remaining option. 

It’s evil, but it’s understandable, given that all they care about is power. 

But ordinary people lying to their own children? 

There’s something deeply disturbing about that, most especially when the lie isn’t even for the benefit of anyone involved. 

The parent won’t benefit. 

The child won’t benefit. 

No-one who overhears the lie will benefit. 

The only person who benefits is the would-be Diktator of AmeriKKKa (let’s use “Dik” for short) because the lying parent is practicing giving away their own agency and putting it in the hands of the Dik. It’s no accident that some of the lies put their own life at risk along with the lives of their family & friends. They are being trained to put the Dik above the life and welfare of what they previously loved most dearly in the world. 

Photo by Izaac Elms on Pexels.com

—————————

Essays on America: Labelism 

Essays on America: The Game

Identity Theft

Absolute is not just a vodka 

A Lot is not a little 

Stories of a fictional child sociopath

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Author Page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior – Sports psychology book aimed to help you win more — whatever that means for you.

Turing’s Nightmares — SciFi scenarios about the possible future impacts of AI on our lives, our families, our society.

Fit in Bits — How to stay more fit by working more variety & fun into daily activities.

Tales from an American Childhood — A partial autobiography that examines incidents from the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues.

Happy Darwin Day!

12 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

beauty, Darwin, Darwin's Day, evolution, life

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Charles Darwin: 

Born: February 12, 1809

November 24, 1859, The Origin of Species was published. 

So, which date do we use to mark the beginning of evolution? 

LOL. Neither! 

Life has been evolving on earth for 4.5 billion years! You and I and everyone else on earth and every Redwood, Monarch Butterfly, Rose Bush, Siberian tiger, and Honeybee; every Porpoise, Sailfish, Snail, Hummingbird and Eagle evolved in an unbroken line from our common ancestors. 

Every single one of your direct ancestors stayed alive long enough to procreate. 

The study of life has always fascinated me. I found it astounding as a kid. I find it astounding today after 3/4 of a century. In honor of Charles Darwin Day — February 12th — I thought I’d point to some earlier essays and poems that have touched on life, evolution, or genetics.  

Photo by u041eu043bu0435u0433 u042fu043au043eu0432u043bu0435u0432 on Pexels.com

Math Class: Who are you? 

Many people act in their “self-interest.” Others act altruistically. What might a balance between self-interest and altruism look like?

It seems to me at least worth considering that the genes that make you be the being that you are are not only within the boundaries of your own skin. Those genes are all over the place! Some are in trees. Some are in bees. Many are in a porcupine. And the vast majority are in all humankind. There’s way more of “you” out there than just what is in your own skin. 

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/03/09/math-class-who-are-you/

The Great Race to the Finish

Ever notice how much many people rush about? I am too. Or, at least, I used to be. As I write this, none of our six cats is rushing about. Not even close. Charles Wallace is curled up in a cat bed on the window sill. Luna is curled up on the bed next to my wife. The other four are all in the living room lying in the sun. If I approached any one of them, they would know it instantly. They are not in deep sleep. They are just taking a … well … a cat nap

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/03/24/the-great-race-to-the-finish/

And speaking of cats, no doubt part of the reason I love them is that they are constant reminders of how to enjoy life and not only by napping! 

A Suddenly Springing Something

A Cat’s a Cat & That’s That

Hai-Cat-Ku for You

Cats are also quite willing to be demonstrative when it comes to reminding you that they have their own agency; that their life is every bit as precious to it as yours is to you. 

Ripples

Actions have consequences.

We generally think of evolution in terms of a species, over time, adapting to whatever circumstances it finds itself in. But consider this: the choices we make determine what kind of environment we will live in and ultimately, how an organism (including humanity) will evolve.  

Ripples

Life is a dance between endless repetition on the one hand and chaos on the other hand. Life is not a printing press. Each copy is a little different. Because of that, it can change, and bend, and learn, and change. 

Life is a Dance

All Life is a Dance

The natural world is overflowing with beauty. 

It’s diverse; it’s abundant; it’s everywhere. When humans come in and change the landscape? Sometimes, we make it marginally better or add something that is as beautiful as nature but very different. But that’s rare. If we’re honest about it, most of the things humans make are not nearly so beautiful as the natural things they replace. The manufactured items are often more convenient. For instance, it’s easier and more affordable and more convenient for most people to own a car rather than a horse. But beauty? Despite hiring really good designers and putting in lots of time & energy into making a good design and then selling that design, I’ve never seen a car that approaches a horse in terms of beauty. And, aside from the “nice tries” but you didn’t get there category and the “well at least it works and is blah” category, let’s not forget the many occasions when humans replace natural beauty with unabashed and stunning ugliness. These poems, I suppose, were partly written in the hopes that humanity would see natural beauty and work together to leave the world more beautiful than we found it — and not just more “efficient.” 

You Must Remember This

Ah Wilderness!

The Tree of Life

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Forest

It was his nature

It isn’t only a matter of how things look, of course. I wish that our actions and interactions could be more beautiful as well.

Let the Rainbows In

Happy Diwali

Oh, Tannenbaum!

P is for Politics

https://petersironwood.com/2021/08/31/let-the-rainbows-in/

When I was trained as an experimental psychologists, thinking about the experience of other species was not encouraged. It was actively discouraged. I have a very different view of the world now. I think it is much more parsimonious to presume that other organisms do have some sort of experience and in many cases, similar. 

Occam’s Chain Saw Massacre

In addition to poems, I also like to celebrate the nature of nature by sharing thoughts and pictures, many in a series I call “The Walkabout Diaries.” Why? Because I literally walk about, generally the garden, and observe things there. 

The Walkabout Diaries

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way
The Walkabout Diaries: Lest We Forget…
The Walkabout Diaries: Racism is Absurd.
Life Will Find a Way
Joseph’s Coat of Many Colors
The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets
Ghosts of Flowers Past

Dictatorship is fundamentally anti-life

Dictatorship is the opposite of life. It hates freedom, truth, cooperation, and love. It isn’s satisfied with “motivating” people to do things with cogent rationale. It wants to force people to do things under threat of death or pain. It wants what is good for one person to substitute for the messy processes of negotiating what’s good enough for everyone. It wants to replace the thinking of millions of people to decide what to do with the thinking of one person and when mistakes are made hide those mistakes so well that no-one will learn from them. It’s the opposite of life. Or, at least, it is the opposite of healthy life. It’s cancer run amok. Like all cancers, it’s doomed. But that doesn’t mean there can’t be a lot of pain before it runs its course. 

Cancer Always Loses in the End
Drumbeat: Spoiled Feet Fill the Street
Myths of the Veritas: The Tale of Three Blind Mice
The Cancelled Flight to Crazytown
Fish Have No Word for “Water”
The “All for me!” Bee
Siren Song


Life is a precious gift. Don’t throw it away. 

Get the Important Message

Author Page on Amazon

The Power of the Unbrella

10 Thursday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

creativity, Design, essay, HCI, power, prepare, umbrella, UX, writing

Photo by Dave Colman on Pexels.com

Yay! Yay! Today’s Umbrella Day! 

Hold your umbrellas high and … what? 

How do we celebrate Umbrella Day? Put up an umbrella tree with little paper umbrellas we’ve collected in a lifetime of drinking fruit flavored nerve poison? Hey! Here’s one way we could celebrate: get rid of the necessity of a nuclear umbrella and while we’re at it, why not get rid of war altogether? It benefits very few of the people involved. Look it up. 

No, I suspect that how we are really supposed to celebrate “Umbrella Day” is to buy more umbrellas. Buy more umbrellas? That sounds right. No doubt, this was something cooked up by manufacturers of umbrellas. I doubt the raindrops lobbied for it. A group of consumer fans who just happen to love umbrellas to an inordinate degree? Possible, but extremely unlikely. It’s not the umbrella’s fault; it’s that an umbrella addresses a miserable problem: getting wet when you don’t want to get wet. And, the umbrellas never do a perfect job. They wet the interior of your car and home. They pinch your fingers. People use them! I use them. They are useful. But I don’t think people love them enough to spontaneously beg their government for Umbrella Day. You can call me a cynic; it’s okay. I’m pretty sure it was the Umbrella Manufactures.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

That doesn’t mean I won’t appropriate Umbrella Day for my own purposes which are to have fun writing and to entertain some folks out there. Whenever I think of umbrellas, one of the first things that comes to mind was a “QUALITY” meeting all managers in an anonymous telecommunications company (ATC) were required to attend. We listened to talk after talk, many with exciting PowerPoint pie charts and bar charts. No fewer than seven members of the audience were carried out on stretchers for tachycardia brought about by the sheer exuberance of the final slide showing the PILLARS of ATC QUALITY. 

At the conclusion, to make sure that the excitement we all feel when sitting for non-interactive presentations all day didn’t somehow dissipate when we walked out the door, each manager was presented with an ATC QUALITY umbrella of our very own! 

Whether ATC management arranged for the downpour that hit the city the moment we left the meeting or whether it was sheer happenstance, I don’t really know. In any case, it was a fortuitous event from the perspective of the quality folks because now we would instantly see just how important quality is in our daily lives. 

The raindrops came down.

Photo by Aline Nadai on Pexels.com



The umbrellas went up. 

The umbrellas broke. 

Yes. 

Immediately. 

Photo by Terence Koh on Pexels.com

The umbrellas served their purpose: they showed just how much top management cared about quality. 

(By the way, there really are useful approaches to the important topic of quality. This wasn’t that.) 

The umbrella is a device that can be used in many situations. In the summer between my Junior and Senior years in college, I worked as a child care worker at a psychiatric hospital for kids. I lived in a tiny basement studio apartment in the “Little Italy” part of town. My cheap bed had a line of broken springs so my umbrella served as a brace so that I didn’t sag onto the floor. The umbrella bent but did not break. I was much lighter then.

On one occasion, one of those tiny non-human vampires some might call “a bat” broke into my tiny room and flapped endless noisy loops inches from my head.

Photo by Miriam Fischer on Pexels.com



Slowly, I eased my way out of bed. I slid the umbrella out of its place and when the bat was at the far end of my cell, I opened the umbrella and slowly worked my way toward the door end. My left hand held the umbrella shield before me, much like a muggle version of a Patronus Charm. I slid my right hand over and opened the door. The next time the bat approached the door, out they went. Yay! I like win/win solutions even with mini-vampires. Bats, incidentally, are really cool critters! They are useful to us for a number of reasons, and that’s pretty nice. But they are also just cool in their own right. Their “bat-ness” is every bit as marvelous in its own way as our “human-ness.” The point is that we can use the umbrella in ways the umbrella manufacturers probably never envisioned. 

Now, we turn to the one of the most powerful umbrellas in the world.

The “UNbrella.” 

For several years, my wife and I attended the Newport Folk Festival — a wonderful outdoor concert with two score of the very best folk performers. One of the reasons I like outdoor concerts is so that I can dance. I mean by that that I can dance the way I want to and not get ejected from the venue.

The Newport Folk Festival was no exception. Typically, we had very good luck weather-wise, but one year, it poured. It wasn’t a drizzle. It wasn’t a sprinkle. Nor was it short, hard summer shower that lasts a half hour and then the sun comes out and the rainbow comes out and everyone’s clothes dry in the sun. Nope. This was a constant downpour. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

We knew it “might” rain so we came prepared with rain clothes and large umbrellas. The stage was protected so the performances went on as scheduled. I, like most, huddled under layers of clothing and beneath an umbrella. 

I was cold. 

I was not dancing. 

I thought to myself, “I came here to dance. I am going to dance.” So I did. I shed my clothing save for my bathing trunks and I traded in my UMbrella for an UNbrella. 

Four hours later, it was still raining. But the mood was completely different. Now, half the crowd was dancing in their bathing suits. Everyone was happy! All thanks to the power of the unbrella.



Speaking of vampires and werewolves…

“Beware when you wear ware that you are aware that it is merely ware you’re wearing. You are not your wear.”

Remember the power of the UNbrella. 

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

——————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Index to Tools of Thought

Fifteen Properties to consider in Design

The Sound of One Hand Clasping



Index to Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

P is for Politics

08 Tuesday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Democracy, peace, poem, poetry, politics, Resistance, USA

Politics starts with P

Often politics stars with P

Political Posturing has twice as much P

The former Pee-Resident really put the Pee in Politics

Thank his Pal who got him Putin office. 

Photo by Julius Silver on Pexels.com

Pride begins with P

Prejudice begins with P

Petulance and Pestilence 

And Putrid and Pathetic

Did I mention Putin and Putin’s Puppet?

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

 

Perhaps, we the People ought to ban the letter P.

Phase out Paranoia and 

Purge Pathetic Pain and Pelf.

Purloin the letter P.

Proscribe it from the alphabet!


It seems the perfect plan!

But can we stand to ban the plum? 

Dare we deign to eat no peach?

Would we desire a pleasureless life? 

Would endless strife surpass our Peace? 

But then a thought occurs to me:

What if banning letter P

Doesn’t even impact what is real?

It’s just a game to make us squeal. 

Photo by Charlie Solorzano on Pexels.com

Imagine folks who lie

And ban the naming of that lie.

Imagine folks who beat

And steal your winter wheat. 

To get away with crime,

More than just one at a time.

Easier just to break all law.

Do it once & hide the flaw. 

Now your gang can really go to town!

Turn it all — all upside down! 

And if you are blind enough to think

Capitol attack is peachy pink.

Photo by Todd Trapani on Pexels.com

Could never come your way 

Well, guess again, I say.

There will be so many deaths

It will take away your breath

s.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

The label’s not the thing

Wherein we’ll catch the king. 

What happens in our life

Determines peace or strife. 

Here’s the path to paradise:

Garden, love and plant a pine.

Be sort of nice; not blind of mind;

Being kind works many a time.

We will paradize our place.
And love our human race.

—————————-

Essay on America: Labelism 

Identity Theft

Where does your loyalty lie? 

My Cousin Bobby

The Ailing King of Agitate

Guernica

The only “them” that matters is all of us

Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

Siren Song

The Mud Pit

We’re all in this together

Fire and Ice

The All for me Bee

Life Will Find a Way

Author Page on Amazon

“It is in our very nature 

To improve our very nature.” 

Ghosts of Flowers Past

07 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

flower, flowers, ghosts, grandfather, grandpa

I was about five when my grandfather held my ear in the Solarium as we watched for cars and tried to guess the color of the next one. And, he quoted Confucius:

“When I reach over and pinch my grandson’s ear for a moment, I hold immortality in my hand.” When I was a child, I took this to mean that I was his immortality since I would live on. And, he did mean that. But I also think that he meant me to remember it when I became a grandfather. So, I pass down this wisdom, originally perhaps from Confucius and perhaps from much older sources.

In any case, when I contemplate their lives, it also means I hold immortality in my mind. I see the unbroken chain of ideas as well as the unbroken chain of biology. We are all part of a great tree of life. And, now we are also part of a giant tree of information. Ideally, the two work together as one. We learn more and as we learn more we use that knowledge to make the tree of life ever more resilient and ever more diverse. The healthier the Great Tree of Life, the more time and energy will be left over for us to learn more and more. Biology and knowledge have a natural virtuous circle. 

Destroying the chain of knowledge and instead corrupting it for selfish purposes will mar the Great Tree of Life. It cannot be otherwise. How can we do what is wise for any part of the Tree of Life, if we are filled with lies? We will utterly fail to be nourishing. The Cancer-Greed will want you to think nothing of the welfare of any life except a small circle which they will, of course, claim to include you in. But focusing that narrowly on life always results in catastrophe. It’s like driving a car in LA traffic while staring at a spot on your steering wheel through a magnifying glass. 

“Short-sightedness can be fatal.” 

——————-

Certain experiences jump so easily to mind after many decades much more readily than they have any right to. For example, my grandfather made a wonderful rock garden with a goldfish pond. Once when I was perhaps 5, we sat on a rock and I saw some ants on the ground traveling in a line. He wondered aloud whether they were “sugar ants” or “fat ants.” He claimed that some ants like sugar and others prefer fat. Well, I certainly knew where I stood on that issue and announced, “Oh, they are sugar ants!” We got two little bottle caps and in one, put some sugary water and in the other some lard. (Back in those days, people used lard. It’s true.) 

I knew, even then, that my grandpa was a really smart guy. And, yet, here I was — absolutely sure of the answer without even having to do an experiment. Fat? Yech! Don’t get me wrong. I already loved bacon and nuts. But Lard? What self-respecting ant is going to want to eat that? I certainly wouldn’t!

It didn’t take long for me to be proven right. The ants almost totally ignored the lard and had an entire supply chain set up in minutes for the sugar water. Of course, it’s easy to see now that my reasoning was completely naive and self-centered. But that didn’t mean I believed it any less fervently then. Grandpa designed an experiment and we looked at the results. But it was no experiment to me. I knew the answer — so I thought. It wasn’t as though I thought it more likely that they would go for the sugar. No. I knew they would go for the sugar because that’s what I would do. 

“Pilots who die from running out of gas were sure they wouldn’t when they took off.”

——————————-

Voter Suppression is Life Suppression

Absolute is not just a vodka

It’s not your fault; send me money! 

Essays on America: Wednesday

Math Class: Who are you? 

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Watershed Virus

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: Love Notes

05 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

empathy, ethics, fiction, language, love, myth, Veritas

Shadow Walker awoke before dawn. He looked over at Many Paths, grateful for her, for the healing of life that had finally mended his leg, for the people he lived among. His imprisonment in the Great Walled City of the Z-Lotz had shown him that not all tribes are built on love and trust and truth. 

He smiled at Many Paths. He was sorely tempted to gently awaken her, but instead decided to treat her to some fresh blackberries. He had noticed some along the long, hidden path that now connected the Veritas here with those who lived on the other side of the mountain. He arose quietly and slipped out the front of their cabin when a thought occurred to him. The writing that Tu-Swift had discovered need not be limited to books. 

Shadow Walker softly stole back inside and wrote a simple note and put it beside Many Paths. He smiled as he imaged her awakening, not seeing Shadow Walker but then noticing that he had left a token of his love that could actually be read by his love. Every time he thought of it, he felt amazed all over again at this business of writing and reading. 

He stopped by Tu-Swift’s cabin on the off chance Tu-Swift was also up early. Shadow Walker thought that perhaps he should really think of it now as the cabin of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes. They were obviously in love, but, perhaps more importantly, Tu-Swift could see that they worked well as a team. He smiled and thought of Many Paths. He whispered to himself, “Yes, Many Paths. We also make a good team.” 

The cabin of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes was empty of people, but Shadow Walker immediately spied a piece of birchbark with writing symbols on it. The two of them had gotten up early and started on their translation work at nearby overlook which caught the rays of the rising sun. Behind a natural rock table, what was nearly a perfect semi-circle of granite cliff reflected the rays making it a pleasant place where the dew lifted more quickly than other places. So, it was here they made their workshop for their most serious work. Sometimes, they did their work in the most public parts of the Veritas villages so that others could see what they were up to, ask questions, and learn. They didn’t mind having their work interrupted to answer questions. At the same time, to them, the quest for knowledge was a passion, not just because they of their thirst for knowledge, but multiplied by the overwhelming premonition they shared that just as terrible things had happened before, they would again — unless, perhaps — they might be able to piece things together so as to prevent making the same mistakes yet again. Some plants do well in full sunlight and much water. Others do getter in shade and little water. Sometimes, Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift needed to focus on understanding in a deep way. Those deep roots would not grow with constant interruption; hence, the special area. 

Shadow Walker picked his blackberries that morning without human companionship. That hardly means he was alone. He picked early enough to hear a concert of his songful birdish cousins. Shadow Walker could see many of his smaller cousins as well {Translator’s Note: This is what we would call:} : ants, spiders, aphids, ladybugs, butterflies, a walking stick, several snails, and a cricket. When berry picking is a full time job, the experience is, no doubt, completely different. What Shadow Walker experienced, as an adult, was precisely the joy that any small child feels as they pick berries for the first time, marveling in the fresh, sweet, rich taste as the teeny bubbles burst syrupy goodness onto your tongue.

Shadow Walker also still felt the joy of the attention-demanding weave of hands so as to capture the berry but avoid the sharp prickers, and he still felt joy from the knowledge that he was doing his part; contributing something to family, community, and himself. In Shadow Walker’s experience of the moment, all of that was still fully there. In addition, he thought of it also as a present for the woman he loved with all his heart. 

Perhaps that is partly why, when he had plenty of berries to fulfill his contribution to the anticipated breakfast with Many Paths, he continued to pick berries until late morning. Plenty of other people in the village could share in the fruit and some might dry some of the berries for much later. 

Photo by Thierry Fillieul on Pexels.com

When Shadow Walker did arrive back, much later than he had originally intended, he heard soft crying from within. His mood slid from a bright yellow joy to a dark purple sadness because that is what he received from Many Paths. 

He knelt down beside her, took her hands gently into his and asked, “What on earth is wrong?”

She looked up, sighed, and looked into Shadow Walker’s face. She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her, not with the energy necessary to signal another person that you like them or even the energy of a hug that lingers because it feels good. This was more like the hug of someone holding onto a tree limb or an overhang — holding on for dear life.

Shadow Walker knew the difference. At last, Many Paths released her hold, sat back up and smiled at him. She began,  

“Thank you for leaving me the note!” 

—————————

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Tale of the Three Blind Mice

The Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Author Page on Amazon

Trickle Down Your Spine

03 Thursday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

America, politics, USA

Photo by Sourav Mishra on Pexels.com

The myth that the “trickle down economy” works is constructed specifically for the purpose of garnering support, especially among those negatively impacted by the “trickle down” policies. And, it works! Via careful marketing, millions of non-rich people actually believe that economic policies that favor the rich, will ultimately favor them as well — though that is definitely not what the data show and, with rare exceptions, completely contrary to the “believer’s” personal experience. 

Or is it?

In their experience, as is true for most people, more effort means more success. If you work hard on something and work smart on something and do it for a long time, you’ll have a much better success than if you just dabble at it. Let’s say you made a cradle for your first granddaughter and you put a lot of time and effort into it. The cradle was beautiful! (Great job, you). 

Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com



Another project of yours didn’t work out quite so well. You made a doghouse, but you were in a hurry because of other things and you were going to use old scraps of wood anyway to save money. It looks as it does: sad, unprofessional, ugly. Those you remember, and indeed, there’s no doubt at all that, generally speaking, results are correlated with effort. Results are also correlated with talent. Better golfers and tennis players win more and make more money. Same with many entertainers. More talented entertainers garner more fame and money. 

The propaganda part comes in to convince those millions of true believers that what is true of their own efforts and what is true of competitive fields, is exactly what’s in play when one person has a salary of 50,000 a year and someone else has a salary of 50,000,000 a year. And, why would we want to mess with that success, right? No, as it turns out, exorbitant CEO salaries are not required to get good talent. But perpetuating the myth yields dividends: the wealthy gain support for a con that they pull on their supporters! 

But there’s a second and more insidious reason for perpetuating the myths of a “level playing field” and a “trickle down economy.” If the wealthy are the source of wealth, then, you’d better be damned nice to them! Say, you have a middle class client who has given you solid business for a decade and then someone truly wealthy comes along and asks you to please just put them at the top of the list, because they’re very busy and who knows how big their next job for you might me. What would you do? 

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

But there’s a third and even more insidious reason for perpetuating the myth. It doesn’t just make it possible to institute policies that screw most of the population. It does that, and it invites people to give special treatment to the wealthy so that they have an even more uneven playing field to play on. The third thing that the myth perpetuates is an intra-psychic mind helix (I really want to use a more apt word but we’ll keep it PG-13) of truly soul-crushing proportions. The ultra-wealthy have convinced nearly everyone in society that there are worthy and unworthy people. Further, to be worthy means that you make a lot of money, or, if you’re unable to that (because of lack of talent or hard work, obviously) at least have the dignity of knowing that you have contributed to society  — by which is very clearly meant, have a good paying job (working for the very wealthy). 

Photo by Dmitry Demidov on Pexels.com

Your worth as a human being is not dependent on working. It is worthwhile to contribute to society. You could do that in thousands of ways that would bring you zero income. According to what most people really feel, it would be fine to do that. You would be taken care of by your community. But large segments of our society have been made to feel unworthy. And what happens when someone feels unworthy? They are hugely handicapped in getting a job. In some cases, this kind of pattern starts in school. A person is made to feel unworthy because it takes them twice as long to learn something. 

There are good solutions for that. For example, you could be very selective in what you decide to learn. You can take twice as long to learn if it takes twice as long to learn. That works. You can use external stimuli to help you remember things. Although this is a worthwhile strategy for the real world, it is expressly forbidden in most school settings. What, exactly, is a student being prepared for? 

They are being prepared for failure. They are made to feel unworthy and that’s great, because those who feel unworthy are much easier prey for the tactics of fear-mongering and hate-mongering. The “Trickle-Down Wealth = Worthiness” theory works at three levels: first, the policy level; second, the interpersonal level; third, at the intra-psychic level.



Just as the wealthy hire people to make you feel that the key to your happiness is drinking coke, eating chips, & chewing Tumms, they turn to those same people to make you feel like policies that make rich people richer are “practical” and “good for the economy.” They hire these same folks to make you think wealthy people are just plain better, regardless of what else they do, whatever laws they break, whatever evil they wreak in the world.  They hire that same crew to make you believe that if you are not wealthy, you are unworthy. And —- 

(Drum roll please). If you feel unworthy, it’s not that you are really unworthy. Oh, no! You are worthy but you have been cheated out of your wealth! Yeah, but not by wealthy people! Oh, no! Shame on you! How could you ever think that? You nasty person! Why just last week, the billionaire gave a million dollars to a scholarship fund! Of course, it wasn’t wealthy people who cheated you! You’ve been cheated out of your wealth because of other poor people or others in the middle class. Yeah, it’s their fault — but not the people just like you! No, no, you’re just fine. But it’s the poor people who are: (Pick whatever items you want): {gay, trans, black, brown, yellow, red, old, young, immigrant, rural, urban, left-handed, right-handed, Asian, Native American, handicapped….} They’re the ones who’ve kept you from being a “worthy person.” 

Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

Don’t get me wrong. People would be plenty upset and the Arcturans even if all the Arcturrans did was just take their money. But it isn’t just about money. Because people have been brainwashed from birth that if they are not able to achieve great wealth, they are unworthy! 

Except, guess what? A savior comes to show them that they are not unworthy at all because they have simply been cheated out of the great wealth (and worthiness) that they so richly deserve. It is no surprise that many graven images of TFG are literally made to appear Christ-like or God-like even though, in substance, he’s the least Christ-like of any President in history! But in terms of the psychological function he serves in some people’s lives, it’s the same. He convinces them that their soul can be saved! They will be made whole again. They are worthwhile and all it takes is for someone like TFG to be in charge with absolute power, and he will make sure they have the kind of wealth they deserve. He will wreak revenge on the heads of your enemies!

Of course, it’s absolute rot, as it always is when dictators brag about how great it’s going to be. If someone wants to hear a particular message badly enough, they will hear it and ignore the sound of the truth all around them. 

At one level, it’s hilarious to see a bunch of mainly rich old white guys complain and whinge and whine about how much they’ve been cheated. That this cadre of whiners and wingers about how unfairly life has treated them is led by a rich old white guy who was born rich, lost a fortune, begged daddy for more money and then still couldn’t make an honest go of it, only adds to the richness of the irony. But however hilarious and absurd it is, it is also deadly serious. And by “deadly” I mean “deadly” — literally. People will die. And people have died because of the “Big Lie” and the thousands of others. 

The catechism of “Wealth is Worthiness and the Wealthy Deserve a Special Break” has been enhanced to include: “And My Voice is the Only Voice you can Trust! Ignore that I’ve spent my entire adult life being a con mad and that I’ve cheated in all my relationships with other human beings. So what? Believe me and your enemies will be killed and you’ll be rich and righteous just as you deserve to be.”

Dictators divide in order to gain power. Once they are in power, they can and do steal from everyone. They can and do cheat everyone. They can kill anyone. Read the history of dictators. They’ll kill journalists. They’ll kill business partners who become too successful. They’ll kill political competitors. They’ll even kill co-rapists if that person might provide damning evidence.

Draw a diagram. 

Read history.

Think.

Amber waves of grain….

———————-

Absolute is not just a vodka

Essays on America: The Game

The Ailing King of Agitate

Stoned Soup

Con Con Man’s Special Friend

The Three Blind Mice

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Listen to my Siren Song

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

Essays on America: Happy Talk Lies

Guernica

Author page on Amazon

Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

29 Saturday Jan 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Conman, politics, satire, story

The Con-Con Man didn’t think of himself as a “Con-Con Man.” Nor, for that matter, did he even think of himself as a “Con Man.” It was more like this: He thought of himself as the “Only Man.” Or at least, the only one that mattered. The other people who appeared and disappeared out of his tiny circle of consciousness were tools. And what the Con-Con Man enjoyed was conning the people who appeared in that tiny circle so that they didn’t even realize he was using them as tools. 

One day, an Educated Man met the Con-Con Man and said, “If only we could help educate more people.” And the Con-Con Man said, “What a wonderful idea! Let’s do it! I will start a University with the sole purpose of educating more people!” Of course, the Con-Con Man did no such thing and instead started a “University” with the sole purpose of stealing other people’s money. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

One day, a Compassionate Woman met the Con-Con Man and said, “If only we could help those in need. What’s really sad is when kids get cancer. If only we could help those kids.”
And the Con-Con Man said, “What a wonderful idea! Let’s do it!”

The Compassionate Woman said, “Educated Man” says I shouldn’t trust you.” 

Con-Con Man looked shocked. “What? Why?! You know why? I’ll tell you why. Educated man is not compassionate! He didn’t really want to help students at all! He just wanted to get jobs for his snooty professor friends. I saw right through him. You, on the other hand are a Compassionate Woman and you and I will make hundreds of lives better! I will start a Charity with the sole purpose of helping kids with cancer!” Of course, the Con-Con Man did no such thing and instead started a “Charity” with the sole purpose of stealing other people’s money. 

Photo by Sharefaith on Pexels.com

One day, A Politician met the Con-Con Man and said, “If only we could find the right man, we could win the Presidency for the benefit of the very wealthiest people on the planet!” The Con-Con Man said, “What a wonderful idea! Let’s do it!! I know just the guy. Me.” 

“Really?” Replied the Politician. “Your father would be so proud of you. He may have been a great Con Man but you are a Con Man’s Con Man; A Con Man Don. You con as easily as most people breathe. But you must understand one thing, of course. We call the shots. We’re not even vaguely interested in the liberal opinions you’ve spouted over the years. You will toe the line. The policies you put in place will serve to keep us — and you — in power and to keep people as ignorant, ill-fed, fearful, and hate-filled as possible. This obviously makes them easier to control. You think you can do that?” 

“Can I do that?” The Con-Con Man laughed. “I can do that better than anyone!”

“Good. There’s just one more thing. You are great at being a Con Man, no doubt about it. But we are good at being politicians. We will be choosing candidates and messaging and so on. You understand. Of course, we’d welcome your input.” 

“Naturally,” said The Con-Con Man. “You’re the experts when it comes to politics. No problem! Let me take care of conning people.”

And, the Con-Con Man did con people just as he had promised.
And, the Con-Con Man did not leave choosing candidates to “The Oligarchs.” 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com


Of course, the Con-Con Man choose only candidates who would give their power to him. I could say give their power and wealth but that would be redundant. Once he had power over them, their wealth is essentially his already. The only question is how much hassle is worth actually taking physical possession. 

And a Fan Man of the Con-Con Man came to see him at his “hacienda” in Mar-A-Lardo. The Fan Man said, “Wouldn’t it be great if everyone thought just like I do and made love just like I do and talked just like I do and believed just what I believe and looks just like I look?” And, the Con-Con Man said, “What a wonderful idea! I shall make it so! And, not only that, you can help make that happen! Write me a check now, but make sure your friends who are just like you send me a check too! You can always back out of the monthly thing later if you really want to — you know — leave the entire country in ruins and run by — you know — them! Those folks who are not at all like you. Those folks hate you and so it’s right that we hate them right back and that we stay in power so they are always in their place!”

And Fan Man said, “I really want to Mr. Con-Con Man. But, you know. I hate to bring it up, but Educated Man said you conned him. And Compassionate Woman said you conned her. And, your wives — well, you conned all of them. So, we just want to make sure you’re not trying to con us as well.”

Mr. Con-Con Man smiled. Well, not really. I mean if you actually know how to read a face — like if you or I had been there, we would have seen that it was not a genuine smile at all. He wasn’t “smiling” as a friend working together on solving a puzzle might smile. He was “grinning” the grin of someone seeing yet another con unfold before him. He was “grinning” the grin of an angler fish who feels the anticipatory joy of some small fish coming toward his “bait” — the anticipatory joy that makes the angler fish’s joy all the sweeter in cutting it short and destroying the life of another.

Photo by Matt Waters on Pexels.com



But Fan Man did not see that it was a fake smile; a smile that said: “I’m am so going to screw you over and so going to enjoy it! And, you are so stupid you deserve it.” Of course, Con-Con Man didn’t say that part out loud. What he said out loud was this:

“Oh, Fan Man, don’t you worry. Educated man? Of course, I conned him! He deserved it! He just wanted to educate people to make them Communists! And, don’t even get me started on Compassionate Woman! You know as well as I do that she’s a fraud and a cheat and would be in jail right now except for corrupt people in places. Of course, I conned her and good riddance. Now, what was your other question? Something about my daughter? She’s hot, right? Everyone wants to. It’s okay. But the point is, you can trust me because I’m not trying to con you. No, you are the very reason I have power. You are the people I most love because just like you, I had to work my butt off for every penny. And now, people want to take things I have rightfully earned. So, we’re the same. I’m not going to con you. No way!! I am going to fight for you every step of the way! I’ll get you jobs! I’ll keep you safe!” 

But of course, conning Fan Man was, in many ways, the sweetest con of all. It reminded Con-Con Man of that great time when he had forced himself on a 13-year old. And, then threatened her life and that of her parents if she pursued justice. Wonderful times. But all those adventures with Jeffrey were basically just forcing themselves on one woman at a time! This con allowed him to screw millions! This time, a genuine smile did mushroom onto his face. 

Photo by Julius Silver on Pexels.com

One day, Mr. Putin Man came a-calling. He whispered soothing things to Con-Con Man such as: “Oh, Mr. President, I have no idea how you put up with your free press. What pesky little pricks they are, am I right? Yes. Of course, you’re a brilliant man even as you yourself say, so you know I’m right. Sure. You know without me telling you that you’d be much better off if you had no free press. And, I can help you! I have no free press. I can show you how to do it! No problem.”

And: “Oh, Mr. President. Isn’t a little insane how everyone wants to vote in your elections? Wouldn’t it be better for the whole country if a small group of hand-picked sycophants decided whether elections are fair? Then, if any states don’t vote for you, they are overturned! And possibly jailed! Easy as pie.”

And: “Oh, Mr. President. Yes, what an excellent idea to build mutual trust! Here, I’ll hand over our nuclear codes and you hand me yours at the same time. One. Two. Three. Go!” 

Mr Con-Con Man wasn’t born yesterday. “Say! How do I know these are your real codes?”

Mr. Putin Man smiled ‘a more convincing than Con-Con’s’ but still insincere smile. “Mr. President, I would never try to con you! You’re too smart for me! You’re too smart for anyone! Of course they’re real! I just hope you never have to find out just how real they are. You know radiation on the scale of an atomic war would get around to everyone, right? So, we never want to start a nuclear war, right?”

Mr Con-Con Man said, “Huh? Sorry, I was thinking about Hillary. I don’t know why I can’t get the Secret Service to … “ 

Mr. Putin Man said, “Wait. Let me stop you right there. See, relying on Secret Service is a big mistake. You need your own security force of people you own. As the old Russian saying goes, ‘If you break a lot of dishes, expect to be cut more than once.’ Doesn’t really translate well. Here’s another: “A banker and his guard dog don’t agree on cuisine.” Get it? Never mind. Just take my word for it.

“Okay, Mr. Putin. But how can I be sure you’re not conning me?”

“Me try to con you? Hah! I may not be smart enough to con you, but I’m smart enough to know I can’t con you. Haha. Of course I’m not trying to con you! Why would I? What possible — I’ll tell you what. If I make the incredibly stupid move of trying to con you, I’ll let you know. Okay? So as long as I don’t tell you I’m conning you, you’re actually quite safe.”

Still no genuine smile but Putin Man tried. You have to give him credit for that. 

And load of credit for not completely breaking down in hysterical laughter at the irony. Instead, he managed to keep a completely straight face all the way back to his hotel Suite where he spent hours doing vodka shots, laughing hysterically, and posing for himself in front of the mirror before calling a couple special “Ladies of the Night.” A gift of sorts, they showed up at Con-Con Man’s door around 10. “We’re from Vlad! We hope you’re glad!” they sang in unison.


Con-Con Man thought, God, it’s fun to be the smartest man on the planet.

———-

The Interview

The Truth Train

The Ailing King of Agitate 

Absolute is not just a Vodka 

The Oxymorons of the Mango Mussolini

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

Where does your loyalty lie?

My Cousin Bobby

It Was In His Nature

27 Thursday Jan 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

fiction, growth, psychology, shortstory, tale

Gary never belonged. 

Even younger brother Bruce never played Robin to Gary’s Batman.

Gary’s folks prided themselves on being highly religious. While denomination doesn’t really matter so far as Gary’s isolation goes, it does matter that they ignored the “brotherhood of humanity” aspects and focused instead on finding the teeniest excuse that would allow them to condemn others. Those who really met their extensive criteria for “goodness” could be counted on the fingers of one hand. 

Gary was not one of those fingers.  

And the more alone he felt, the more he acted out. The more he acted out, the more his parents meted out punishment. Spankings for untoward behavior may have been a good idea; locking him in the closet, less so. Deciding that he wasn’t worthy of their love — priceless. 

Unable to navigate the impossibly contradictory maze of strictures and scriptures of his parents, his church, his school and his peer group, Gary lost himself in the worlds of books. Those worlds had damsels, dragons, and doubts, and in the end, the hero triumphed. 

Gary seldom felt triumph in his world. The more he saw himself as a loser, the more he warped his perception. On rare occasions when someone gave him an honest compliment, he discounted it. When kids made overtures to be his friend, he avoided the pain of an inevitable falling out by simply never showing any interest. 

Gary struggled through school, and got a job working in a factory where management discouraged interactions with others. He said little but did much. Gary had a knack for diagnosing and fixing issues with the assembly line and the machines that ran it. 

Gary was fired anyway. 

Low on money, Gary hitchhiked to Washington State.

Photo by Trace Hudson on Pexels.com

Alone, surrounded by a rainbow of intense alpine flowers, staring at the clear summit of Rainier, he felt — he knew he did belong. That insight hit him so hard, an observer would have thought Gary had been struck with an invisible bat. One second later, Gary realized that he had always belonged. 

Everywhere. 

And at every moment. 

Gary belonged. 

Author Page on Amazon

Nancy the Nurse

After the Fall

That Cold Walk Home

The Open Road

If Only

A Horror Story

Naughty Knots

All Around the Mulberry Bush

Inventing a New Color

Claude the Radioman

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

26 Wednesday Jan 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 35 Comments

Why so many pictures of sunsets?

They are all from one sunset.


People all over the world are awed and comforted by a beautiful sunset. It doesn’t matter where they live or what language they speak or how they believe the universe works.

That, in and of itself, should give us pause.

Before discussing differences, we need to focus first on what we have in common.


The second reason for all these pictures is that to remind us both that the sunset is not just a picture — it is a process. It is panoramic; it is colorful to look at and that’s what we typically do.

Nothing wrong with that.

But the sunset also *guilds* things in various ways — some obvious and some rather subtle.
Anyway, where you are, it might be too rainy for a nice sunset tonight. So, you’re welcome to imagine this one is all around you. I can’t make that happen with a few pictures, but you can, using your imagination. What the heck. Give it a try.


The Walkabout Diaries: Bee Wise

Happy Raven Angry Golfer

The Walkabout Diaries: Friends

The Walkabout Diaries: A Now Rose is a New Rose

The Walkabout Diaries: Racism is Absurd

The Walkabout Diaries Lest we Forget

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way

The Walkabout Diaries Jacob’s Coat

Author Page on Amazon

A different day’s sunset.

A sunset painted this.

Every sunset is somewhat different.

The picture, of course, is never so peaceful as being there. But a picture plus your imagination can be.
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