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What Could Be Better: A Horror Story

09 Friday Oct 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized

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ethics, fable, fantasy, fiction, greed, halloween, horror, karma, Science fiction, short story, story, writing

In anticipation of Halloween, here is a kind of horror story. I might not recommend it for kids under 12 although I remember being fascinated by this stuff. I saw the movie THEM! about giant ants when I was about nine. Wow! But anyway, a few stories to tingle the spine and — who knows — maybe even stir the soul or at least cause the mind to consider the idea of Karma, not as a mystical thing that other people happen to believe in despite having no scientific experiments to back it up. But Karma isn’t like “The Tooth Fairy” or “Santa Claus” or whatever your favorite mythical character is. No, Karma is quite real once you accept the reality that everything is interconnected. Misdeeds always have negative consequences. You might be able to wriggle away before the hammer comes down, or maybe not. But even if you escape the momentary blow-back, you have propagated evil into a universe; the universe you live in. Sometimes, it’s much more local than that. You’ve hurt the planet you live on, or the country you live in, or your neighborhood, or your family. You can lie about it, but that simply multiplies the evil. Anyway, on to the story…

photo of man walking surrounded with pumpkins

Photo by Connor Danylenko on Pexels.com

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What Could Be Better?! A Horror Story

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Karmic Decisions, Gamma Section, Milky Way Division, Department 78776-G-164c, Species – Human; Sub-species Greedypigs. 

“I’m here to do what?” screamed Joe. “This can’t be real.” 

“What? What do you mean ‘what?’ You never heard of Karma while you were a —- let me see — oh, yes, here it is — ‘an earthling’, is the expression you use. So, when you were an earthling…excuse me, I don’t mean to laugh, but in our language it’s a commonly used synonym for ‘Greed-Meister.’ And, here you are waiting for an assignment based primarily on your being of the subspecies, Greedypigs. You get it? No, you don’t get it. You’re greedy.” 

money cash euro pay

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad to me,” piped up Joe. “No Siree. Many of us on earth, most of us, I suppose, are downright greedy. Nothing wrong with that! That’s what put a man on the moon. And what cured polio and all sorts of good stuff.” 

The giant Worblastic Filtermeister tilted one of his heads to the left and one to the right. He regarded the earthling, also known as Joe, with a quizzical dozen eyes. “I’m no expert on earth species and culture and so on. So many galaxies; so many planets and frankly the vast majority are more interesting than the Greed Cancer that destroyed earth. But as to greed, I have a question for you: How many billions do you think Jonas Salk made on the polio vaccine?”

“I don’t know. I’m not much good at trivia. Can we get on to my assignment? Time is money, they say. And, I did make a lot of money on earth. I’m already at the top of the pyramid of earth species so … what’s next?” Joe, the earthling, shrugged his dual shoulders and scanned the eyes before him. It was weird trying to make eye-contact with a twelve-eyed being. “Do I get to be CEO of a major multinational? Or are we going all the way to a God or something?” 

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“You think earthlings are the top species? Oh, Lord, there are so many misconceptions in that. Oh, my. My oh my,” said the Filtermeister. “I thought we could chat a bit, but you are in a hurry.” 

When you watch another earthling roll their eyes, it can be mildly disorientating. But when the eyes rolling in front of you are each as large as a basketball and there are twelve of them going in various directions — ! For Joe, it was nauseating. He could not watch. He just had to look down at his feet. His shoes looked despicably dirty. Where had he been? Wait. It isn’t just the shoes. What the hell is going on here, he thought. He felt as though he were shrinking. He yelled out, “Where am I going? Am I a god now? I’d be good at that! I tell people what to do all the time. Isn’t that the essence of a god? To be the boss?” As Joe spoke, he tried to yell louder and louder, but his voice continued to weaken and whine up to a higher pitch. At last, he couldn’t even recognize his own voice. It sounded teeny and … metallic. 

Joe had a sudden urge to dig a hole. He had no idea why, but he did; the urge was powerful. He began to look around for a shovel but saw only a forest of giant grasses all about him. He was surrounded by smells he barely recognized. Grass. Yes, but what was that one? Snail? And ant trail? And, oh, Joe thought that swallowtail caterpillar smells delicious! From far above, there was thunder. Or, no, it was a voice. The Filtermeister! For a moment Joe recalled, he had been an earthling talking with a Filtermeister, a Filtermeister who would decide his next ‘gig’ as he put it. What is he saying?

“Nothing! No billions at all,” thundered the Worblastic Filtermeister. “Do you really think everyone who worked on the Space Program worked as hard and as long as they did just to make money?” 

Joe heard these sounds and each of the sounds echoed to a meaning. But these meanings were far away. Far, far away like church bells two towns over which required a bitter cold day and favorable wind and even then you weren’t sure you really heard them. And what did they have to do with the business at hand, which was to dig a hole and pronto.

He fretted: And I have no shovel! But wait! What’s a shovel? Joe glanced toward his feet and saw that all of them had built-in shovels. How cool! I am amazing! And, though I may be tiny, I am strong as steel! OMG! In a flash it seemed, a nice cool dark cavity had appeared, carved out by the — by me! My ancestors. They gave me these legs. Cool! Nice work. But, I need a door! 

nature outside insect macro

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Soon, Joe lay still at the bottom of his small hidie-hole and waited. Good God, have I ever been this hungry before? For a moment, Joe remembered again the Filtermeister. Oh, yes, he had been given this wonderful life because he had been such a good human. Good karma. I told him I was greedy and so I am. It feels quite natural for me. I will eat that entire caterpillar! I deserve this life of luxury! Wait! Wait! I hear it coming! He tore open the shutters and threw up the sash, as it were. In a split second he had sunk his giant fangs into the side of the caterpillar. Oh, my GOD this is delicious. Somehow, it’s even more fun because of all the squirming! What is that? Some ebony-winged beast is trying to steal my caterpillar. “Leave it alone! It’s mine! I got here first! I don’t need to share my kill with anyone!” 

Too late, Joe realized that the beasts goal was not to steal the caterpillar but to hurt him. That’s not much of a sting, he thought. Wait till I get my mandibles on her. Joe slung his body forward like a catapult  — except  — nothing happened! He tried to wave his frontmost arms. Nothing! What strange magic was this? It seemed like such a minor wound. Joe tried every muscle in his body but couldn’t move a thing. 

She took a strong stance, put two legs shamelessly on his side and flipped him over on his back. Now, the bastard was getting ready to sting me again, thought Joe. He steeled himself. OW! That hurt worse than the first one. Another! Oh, god. This went on for some time. At last, that sorry chapter in his life was over. She stopped stinging. She looked quizzically at him, compound eyes to compound eyes. She ran her forelegs over her mandibles and licked them suggestively. She began buzzing her wings. She arose like an angel of death. 

Hopefully, the poison will wear off soon, Joe thought, and I’ll go back to eating those luscious caterpillars. Out of nowhere, this ran through Joe’s mind: I survived the crash of 2008 and I’ll survive this. What on earth does that even mean, he thought, but it made him feel better for a few days. He kept telling himself that the paralysis would wear off. Every few minutes, he would find himself thinking that this would be the minute when he recovered. But it wasn’t. And each moment, he forgot that he had had his hopes up the previous moment. For a solid week, he convinced himself that he’d look back to those painful stings as the worst part of a very long and happy life.

Then — they hatched. All of them. Within minutes of each other. They were greedy. Oh, yes, they were greedy.

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Sadly, the stinging definitely wasn’t the worst part of Joe’s life. Not by quite a bit, in fact. The mysterious flying lady with the whirring wings had not meant to hurt him with her stings. She was merely depositing her eggs inside his body. When they hatched, they began to devour him from the inside out, carefully avoiding the truly vital organs that would end his life. For it was fresh, living flesh that they greedily desired. Every pain fiber in his body screamed nonstop. The poison kept his limbs completely still. But the poison did nothing to mute the constant scream of his pain. Joe could only scream the one word: GREED! Endlessly.

Joe looked back on those painful stings as the best part of a very long and excruciating life. He tried to call back the winged terror. “Please, he wanted to say. Sting me again. Anything’s better than this.” But Joe couldn’t talk. He couldn’t move at all. And the wasp wouldn’t have been interested.

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Author Page on Amazon 

The link below is to a work of “pure fiction” however — the protagonists and their “back stories” are true. This is a story that takes place in a nearby but parallel universe.

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/if-only/

 

 

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

Karmic Architecture II

08 Thursday Oct 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, design rationale, essay, family, leadership, love, management, nature, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

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Democracy, Dictatorship, essay, government, humanity, karma, leadership, life, love, management, mental-health, peace, truth, Ukraine, USA, war, writing

You and I and King Cobra and Queen Anne’s Lace and every other living thing on earth are small and temporary little leaves on the ancient (4.5 billion years and counting), vast, and diverse Tree of Life. Typically, you know a lot more about the neighborhood surrounding your little leaf than you do about mine and vice versa. Yet, I may discover things that are of use to you. And, you may discover things that are of use to me. So, humans, have one gift that is valuable above all others. 

But before we explore what that valuable gift is, let me ask you a question about how you would react to a hypothetical.

Suppose you were so poor that you barely had enough to eat, no clothes to wear, a small damp cave for shelter. You were cold in the winter and hot in the summer. Now, suppose I gave you a magic ring that changed all that. If you wear this ring — voila! — you now have clean water and sufficient food and plenty of clothes and a house that really shelters you from the extremes of the environment. In return, you must wear the magic ring at all times. If you remove the ring, your life reverts immediately.

Photo by Jordan Rushton on Pexels.com



How tempted would you be to throw that magic ring in the toilet? 

Yet, that is precisely what many people do. 

And, if a sufficient number of people throw away the ring, everyone will essentially live the life of a beast. 

That “magic” ring is, like most rings, circular. It represents the whole of humanity. It represents the family. It represents a club, a marriage, a lodge, a company, a church, a school, a class, a group of friends. It represents our respect for each other as human beings. It represents our ability to communicate with each other. 

You could call that ring love and I wouldn’t object. It need not be imbued with so much positivity that people feel love. But it must be overall positive. It represents truth. It represents empathy. Love is strong and it can overcome both a few misdeeds by everyone and many misdeeds by a few. But if lies become more commonplace than truths, civilization will run downhill and eventually cease. 

Similarly, if hate and fear and contempt are how we mostly regard each other, the marriage, the family, the club, the school, the church, the party, the lodge, the company, the group of friends will eventually disintegrate. In many cases, it would disintegrate into a self-destructive war except that most people will stop themselves because they don’t want to be ostracized or jailed by the larger society. If, however, the entire society becomes rife enough with hate and fear, no one will come to anyone else’s rescue. 



Our entire survival depends on our gift, our ring, our community, our country, our fellow human beings. 

Our gift is not our lightning speed of running.

Our ring is not our ability to out-swim the shark.

Our gift is not our powerful jaws, or our steel strong talons. 

It is our ability to communicate with each other by sharing experiences. It is truth, caring, and cooperation. That is our one gift that enabled us to survive and thrive. 

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

A democracy can take many specific forms. What it is, at base, is that it recognizes the gift as a fundamental value to be cherished and used. The fundamental purpose is to ensure that government is aware of and takes into account how policies and people and processes actually impact people who live in the democracy. In a representative democracy, the people, in turn, can vote for people to represent them. They can vote for any reason they like; e.g., because they admire a particular person; they believe they will do a competent job; they like the candidate’s promised policy changes; they find that the candidate reminds them of his funny old uncle Al who always had the best candy on offer.  

No democracy is perfect. There has to be in its structure and processes more truth than lie; more empathy than indifference; more love than hate; more hope than fear. In some democracies, there are basically two parties; others have dozens. Parties may differ on philosophies, priorities, platforms, programs, etc. 

A “party” who rejects democracy itself however, is not an actual political party. The term “political party” only makes sense in the context of a democracy. If “elections” are determined by those in power, they are not actual elections and there is no party. It’s just a group of thugs who want to rule by hate and fear and lies. That is not a political party. It is not a legitimate part of a political process. They want to throw the ring away in the toilet. They want to subvert the truth to lies. They want to severely limit love and enhance fear and hate. They divide rather than unify. Oh, and guess what else? Historically, they want war. They will ensure that war just as Putrid is doing right now.

Democracies have also been known to start wars. When they do, it’s often based on lies. As communication has become more ubiquitous, it has been harder and harder for democracies to lie, cheat, and be cruel. Most people don’t want that! Most people want there to be more truth, love, caring, and cooperation. There are plenty of differences about how to go about that. That’s fine. That’s just the sort of difficult and messy problem that democracy is particularly less bad than any other system. 

As I said, I really think most people prefer interacting in a caring and cooperative way. We see that it’s more effective in getting things done and it simply feels better for everyone. For that reason, dick-tater-$hits have to provide lies to help assuage the consciences of its citizens. “Oh, they are all murderers and rapists! You shouldn’t feel bad about being cruel to them!” Another favorite is: “Oh, they aren’t really human beings, the way we are. No need to treat them any better than a fox trying to steal your chickens!”

Photo by u041eu043bu0435u0433 u042fu043au043eu0432u043bu0435u0432 on Pexels.com



Needless to say, this ploy completely fails on many people and isn’t completely effective on anyone. Any time you’re cruel, whatever story you tell yourself about it, you know you are destroying a bit of yourself. Except, what you are really destroying is something much vaster than a bit of yourself. In fact, what you are destroying is something much vaster than all of yourself. What you are destroying by being cruel, whatever story you tell yourself is the human branch of the Tree of Life. Lies weaken that branch. Cruelty weakens that branch. Bullying weakens that branch. So too does cowardice. 

The architecture of karma shows that the future impact of your present day behavior is much greater in scope than your present impact. Behaving well is in your interest because what you are is essentially a very small and very temporary part of that ancient, vast, and diverse Tree of Life. The more you can enhance that tree with truth and love, the better for the whole tree.



Don’t throw away the ring. Wear it proudly. It is truly an amazing gift! 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Author page on Amazon

Dick-Tater

Absolute is not just a vodka

The First Ring of Empathy

Pattern Language for Cooperation 

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Listen: You can hear the echos of your actions

Poppa Goes the Weasel

The Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

Math Class: Who Are You? 

Ripples

Happy Darwin Day!

Somewhere a Bird Cries

All We Stand to Lose

The Broken Times

Fish have no word for water


Some recommended books:

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

The Open Road

04 Sunday Oct 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, family, fiction, guns, psychology, story, Uncategorized

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books, fantasy, fiction, guns, halloween, murder, mystery, short story, story, writing

“That ain’t showin’ respect. That’s just showin’ you don’t give a good God damn.” Greg turned and spat an impressively large wad of chewing tobacco all the way off the front porch onto the ill-kempt and scraggly lawn beyond. It was a kind of tic that Greg had, as though something of Sunday School had rubbed off on him after all; some teeny niggle of guilt dribbled through his nervous system when he said a curse word with the word “God” in it. If he happened to be chewing tobacco, which was most of his awake hours, it caused him to spew his chew. He frowned. He hated losing such a fresh wad of Stoker. Papa’s old hound dog heard the splat and ran over to investigate. One good whiff and the Bassett (named Ole’ Bassie) sneezed and turned away. Sometimes Papa remembered to feed him and that was good. But he wasn’t above eating garbage and anything he could catch. The chewing tobacco, however ,was too foul even for a semi-starving dog. 

Greg’s older brother Ron and he couldn’t seem to agree on much of anything these days except how much they hated God damned snowflakes, as they called them. Every few weeks, the two of them revisited their current argument about whether it was okay to let their dad drive into town. Understand, it wasn’t as though they scheduled the argument. No, it wasn’t that. Neither brother paid much attention to clocks or calendars. But as though scheduled by a mindless office software package, every two weeks, Papa would end up demonstrating some new level of dementia that re-ignited the old argument. It was as regular (and as useful) as the biweekly committee meeting most people in Corporate America had. You know the one.

Ron pursed his lips in a perfect, though unconscious, imitation of the most small-hearted and sanctimonious member of the church choir in the Farmington Baptist Church. Ron shook his head disapprovingly as Greg pulled out his pouch of chaw and bit off another piece. Ron looked skyward as though repeating a small, silent prayer. “You know what happens to people that chew they’s tobacco like that there? Mouth cancer. Lips. Gums. Tongue. Whatever. You’re going to die like a dog, man. Keep it up and you might go before Papa even.” 

“Better’n dyin’ of the H, I and V like you might do. I got me a wife and that’s it. I’m tellin’ you, Ron, sneaking off with every skirt…”

Ron began to wag his head back and forth as vigorously as Ole’ Bassie did whenever he emerged from “Lake Woe.” “Lake Woe” is how Aunt Emily had dubbed the swamp that lay like a forgotten promise between the family house and US 250. The name was meant as a dig. For a few years, the entire family had listened to “Lake Wobegon” on the radio every week. According to Garrison Keillor, all the children in Lake Wobegon were above average. “Well,” Aunt Emily had said with a nod, “there ain’t none of you kids that’s above average. All you been is woe. We’ll call it Lake Woe. You git it? Named after you two.” 

Whenever his older brother Ron wagged his head like that, Greg thought of two things. First, he was every time amazed that he could move his head that fast. Greg was afraid he’d smash his brains against his skull if he tried that crap. After all, he thought: Don’t they get concussions and crap from fights and soccer and football? Must be the same with his head shaking.

The second thing that snapped into Greg’s mind was this. He recalled Aunt Emily’s naming ceremony at Thanksgiving Dinner. Greg had initially thought it was wonderful to have something as fun as the swamp named after him and his brother. Ron though, being older, and more knowledgeable about how things worked in the world, knew right away that it was a put-down, an insult. She was having “fun” at their expense. Ron explained all this to Greg right after dinner. But Greg had stubbornly refused to believe his older brother. Greg had just figured Ron was trying to be a “smarty pants” just to spoil the moment for him.  

Ron said, “I’ll tell you what, you cud-chewin’ cow. I’ll outlive you, I’ll betcha’ right now!”

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Greg was easily triggered by every little one of those everyday annoyances that civilization gifts upon us. Of course, some folks were pretty adept at avoiding Greg’s “hot buttons” but there were so many buttons, that even cautionary folks would screw up on occasion and say something that Greg took as demeaning or terrifying. 

There was that Christmas dinner when Aunt Millie had not partaken of the canned New England Clam Chowder. 

She led with: “The health benefits of being vegetarian” — button pushed. In fact, he was half way there just from hearing the phrase: “The health benefits.” The other thing about the way Greg’s brain worked was that once he heard a triggering word or phrase, he stopped listening. What Greg had never heard was the rest of Aunt Millie’s comment: “The health benefits of being vegetarian are nothing compared with the taste of a good fresh steak or fried chicken or best of all, roast turkey. I’ll have some of those. Butcha’ know, I’m allergic to shellfish. Even a tiny bit & I break out in hives….” 

But never mind. We’ll stop that narrative right there because the contents don’t matter. What matters is that Greg never heard any of it. If you’d ask him, he’d tell you that Aunt Millie is a friggin’ vegetarian.  And, if you did ask him, you’d likely push another “hot button.”

While there were those folks who tried to tip-toe around Greg’s hot buttons, Ron was not one of those people. No. He delighted in upsetting his brother. To Ron, it was just a game. Ron hardly even faked being upset most of the time. On rare occasions, he would feign hurt or rage or fear or love or whatever it took to get Greg’s goat. And, the thing about Greg’s hot buttons, which Ron knew full well, was that pushing the button always caused the same reaction. He could turn his brother into his … puppet. That made Ron feel as though he had some power in this world after all. He had some standing. He was somebody. Maybe he couldn’t control everything but he certainly could control his brother. 

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

Greg’s brain also had an interesting kind of “three strikes and you’re out!” rule. Perhaps he had picked it up from baseball or a questionable theory about criminality. In any case, if Greg got upset three times in one day, each reaction was a little more extreme. He didn’t back off. Oh, no. To Greg, it meant, three strikes and the monster comes out. Understand, Greg didn’t realize he had such a rule. Ron understood it, but it just made it more fun. He could not only make his puppet brother dance; he could make him dance at different intensities as well. 

Greg ground his teeth. “So how we know who wins the bet, smarty pants?! Hah?! Didn’t think of that, did you?” 

Ron smiled placidly. “Sure. No problem. Give me the money now. If you die first, I’ll keep it. If I die first … well, you’re my only heir. Well, almost. I did give a little to Audrey.” Ron tried — and failed — to keep a straight face as Greg began his final meltdown. 

“Audrey! Audrey! Are you kidding me? Whaddya’ think my wife’s gonna say about that! Why did Ron leave money to your old girlfriend? What’s going on? Are you still seeing her? I’ll friggin’ kill you!”

“That’s what would happen, you God-Damned” — well, that’s what did it right there. Ron miscounted. Greg was already beyond the boiling point when he spat out a perfectly virgin wad of chaw. It was his favorite brand too: Stokers. 

Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

Of course, we can only speculate what might have happened, had guns not been readily available and already loaded. As it was, the police pretty quickly chalked up the murder suicide to a family feud. It happens. They shrugged it off as just another one. Tragic. But — within normal bounds. The worst thing about the crime was how everyone seemed to have forgotten about Papa. Perhaps they unconsciously thought he was gone anyway. No-one looked for him. No-one seems to have noticed he was gone for weeks.

Since these two boys were Papa’s only offspring, in a way, the police were right. It really was a murder/suicide. 

The boys had agreed on one thing about Papa while they had still been living. They had put almost all their assents into a three-way checking account. 

Papa didn’t live much longer. 

But Fiji is beautiful. And, you can be sure Papa made the most of it. He really had a blast. His memory wasn’t nearly so bad as the boys had thought. Nonetheless, he didn’t give them any more thought than the police had given him as a possible suspect.

Photo by Dana Tentis on Pexels.com

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If Only…

Karma: A Horror Story 

I Can’t be Bothered

Tit for Tat

It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy

As Gold as it Gets

Do Unto Others

Last Call 

True Believer 

That Cold Walk Home

Author Page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

What to do? Whom to Believe?

02 Friday Oct 2026

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized, psychology, management, America, politics, satire, essay, leadership

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Tags

America, books, cognitive dissonance, deception, Democracy, fantasy, fiction, leadership, lies, politics, problemsolving, psychology, short story, thinking, truth, USA, writing

What to do? What to do? 

Everyone seems about to go for the throat. People are not sure whom to trust. Should they trust doctors who spend years and years learning about calculus, chemistry, biology and then more years in medical school learning about anatomy, physiology, and medicine and then more years as an intern and resident? Or, instead, maybe how about believing a yelling, screaming talk show host? Hard to tell? Maybe no-one ever taught us how to tell liars from truth tellers. There is no simple formula that will guarantee us to be 100% accurate, but maybe we can think together about it. 

——————-

(Processed photo from one I took on Maui.)

Sam sat alone at the local sandwich shop, and began contemplating whether to have dessert after his nice lunch. It was a club sandwich, already a lot of calories, but what the hell, he thinks. With what the doctor said this morning, I should be free to eat anything I want, 

Three older guys — strangers — come in and waddle up to a table next to Sam’s. The trio have their menus but before glancing at them, they look up at a nearby TV and raise their fists. There’s a roar because someone has just run back a kickoff for a touchdown.

Andy says, “Wow! What a run back. I played in high school. Not easy running back a kickoff all the way into the end zone.” 

Sam regards the threesome. It’s hard for him to believe any of them were ever fit enough to play football, but most people do gain weight with age and lack of exercise, so — the portly stranger could be telling the truth.

Bob says, “I played in high school and college. I was good. Blew my knee out as a sophomore though and lost my scholarship.” This too seems plausible to eavesdropping Sam.

Cal says, “I played in high school, college, and went pro. I was fantastic. Probably the best runner and wide receiver and quarterback in the history of Ohio State. I played free safety too. Had more tackles than anyone before or since. If I were playing quarterback, no way that guy would have scored. I was the top draft pick five years running. A lot of quarterbacks these days are too chicken to tackle anyone. I would have nailed him. I was breaking all the records for the Houston Texans! But I got bored. Football’s really a simple game.” 

Sam thinks that Cal is bragging way too much. His story is a priori unlikely. Regardless of what he says or how he says it, the chances that a random person is the best anything at Ohio State is highly unlikely. He played back, wide receiver, quarterback and free safety? That’s unlikely. Extremely unlikely. 

Sam frowns and shakes his head. What does it mean to be the “top draft pick” for five years? If that were true, it would lead naturally to an explanation but none was provided. Further, quarterbacks may be told not to risk their careers making a tackle on a punt return. But what quarterback is on the field to defend a kickoff return? 

Houston Texans? Their first season was 2002. This guy looks to be at least 65. So…he was playing all those positions when he was 45? That seems highly unlikely. Got bored playing football? Possible, but again seems very highly unlikely. Football’s a really simple game? Really? 

Cal’s story has a lot of holes in it. Now Sam laughs that he ever swallowed any of it.

Bob says, “You played for the Houston Texans? You mean the Oilers?” 

Cal shoves his chair back hard enough to spill water on the table. He pushes on the arms of his chair and manages to stand up and he yells even louder, pounding the table to illustrate just how much he believes in what he’s saying. “I said Texans and I mean Texans! I was the best in the whole damned state of Texas! The whole south for that matter!”

Sam laughs to himself, thinking, Well, that settles it I guess. Cal is really passionate and loud so he must be telling the truth, right?

No. 

Wrong. 

People who are telling the truth do not feel the need to scream and yell and make even more outrageous claims the first time someone questions them. 

Sam snorts at the ridiculous claims and then has an idea. It takes Sam 20 seconds to pull out his iPhone and look up Eli Manning, the first name that popped into his head. 

Sam reasons: “If Cal were really the best football player in the history of Texas, he could have easily verified it by finding his own entry on the web  (likely on Wikipedia) and shown his table mates the entry. He would not have had to scream and yell and pound the table.”

Sam thinks: Okay, but no-one’s going to fall for a con man like that. 

{Really? Don’t be too sure, Sam}. 

Cal says to the approaching and attractive server: “Hey, darling. You look yummier than anything on the menu. Do you know who I am? Do you know what I did before I became a billionaire? Go ahead guys. Tell this lucky sweetheart who’s going to be leaving someone a very big tip!” 

Andy and Bob may think: Well, at least he’s going to leave the tip.

So, Andy and Bob outline Cal’s biography in the football hall of fame (where his name definitely does not appear should anyone actually look it up). 

Andy and Bob feel pretty sheepish about joining in this pack of lies. But Cal doesn’t think they have been anywhere near lavish enough in their description of him. Cal says: “Oh, on, guys! Make this girl’s day! Tell her she’s had the pleasure of serving the greatest football player in the history of the game! I don’t say that. That’s what everyone says! Right, guys?” 

Now Sam looks over and can see that Andy and Bob are both a bit embarrassed. They’ve gone along with Cal’s lies, but they don’t want to admit to that now because it proves that they are also liars. So they go along with the bigger lie. 

Andy says, “Yeah. Something else, right? He was OSU’s best player ever. Yep.” 

Bob says, “Uh-huh.” 

Cal shakes his head at Bob. “Come on! God, that’s the damndest weakest most candy-ass description I’ve ever heard, Bob. Tell her how many touchdowns I had. Just me. At OSU!” 

Bob looks bewildered. He knows it’s all a lie. People all over the restaurant are starting to look over at the table and more than a few are looking admiringly at Cal. 

Bob thinks to himself, Quite a few cute chicks here. Cal can’t handle all of them.”  He feels inspired. He takes out his iPhone and says, “Damn. Battery’s about gone. Let me just … here … fifty touchdowns. My God! That is amazing!” 

Cal rolls his eyes. “Give me that damned phone! That’s not right! It’s two hundred and fifty. Not fifty. Yep. There it is. I’m going to look up how many interceptions I had. Oh, crap! Battery dead. Hey guys, I gotta skedaddle. Here’s your crap cellphone back Bob.”

By now, Andy and Bob are both too embarrassed to come clean. Cal makes a big show out of taking out his wallet and thumbing a large pile of cash. He makes it look as though he’s leaving a big tip but actually only leaves a couple bucks. Andy and Bob split the entire bill.

Sam shakes his head slowly as he watches the three waltz out. Their server looks in awe of Cal and stares him out of the establishment. She even stares with some desire — despite the fact that Cal is grossly overweight and barely able to wobble his way out of the restaurant. But she imagines how once he must have been quite a specimen and it’s that image that is the real target of her desire. 

She also looks forward to finding out just how giant of a tip he left her. A few moments later, she walks over to the “billionaire’s” table and before opening up the placard, tries to guess how much it is. Several of her colleagues have come over as well. She turns around and tells them to back off. “It’s my tip, thank you very much” she says. “Just remember, I’m the one who tried to convince you all to share tips but you wouldn’t have any of it.”

They back off, slightly miffed. Now, the young lady has made up her mind it will be at least a hundred dollars, but she dares to hope that maybe he did something crazy and left her a thousand!! 

She notices her hands trembling as she opens up the placard and sees three bills. 

All ones. She looks more carefully at the bills. 

They

Are 

All 

Ones

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

She blinks. She sets her jaw. She’s not going to let her colleagues see her disappointment or that he stiffed her, especially after he felt her thigh. All the way up. She forces a gleeful tone into her voice and jams the outer corners of her lips up towards her ears. “Oh, boy!” She shouts with intended but pretended joy. “This will buy me a new iPhone!” As she said this, each successive word increased in loudness and pitch. She sounded a lot like someone desperately peddling costume jewelry on channel 666 at 4 am.

Her colleagues glance at each other. She fooled no-one. They all realize she got stiffed. Each is torn between comforting her, making fun or her, or just pretending along with her. For the sake of keeping a reasonably happy work environment, they all choose to go along with her. 

Sam shakes his head and looks down at his melted coffee ice cream with hazelnuts. Now it’s just cold coffee with a lot of wet nuts. 

And, then Sam realizes that that is the least tragic thing that happened here today. In the length of time it took his ice cream to melt, one liar became seven liars. 

Same took a deep breath. This is what’s happening inside me, he realized. 

That’s how my cancer grew so fast. 

———————

A lot is not a little

The Truth Train

Try the Truth

The Orange Man

The Wobbly Man

Come back to the light side

My Cousin Bobby

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Cancer Always Loses in the End

Imagine All the People

All we Stand to Lose

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

The Dance of Billions

An Open Sore from Hell

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Author page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

Stress Fractures!

30 Wednesday Sep 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, essay, health, leadership, management, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

politics, America, Democracy, history, fascism, society, USA, Resistance, news

Stress Fractures!

From Wikipedia, 9/26/2021

Stress fracture
Other namesHairline fracture, fissure fracture, march fracture, spontaneous fracture, fatigue fracture
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Stress fracture of the second metatarsal bone (below the knuckles of the second toe)


“A stress fracture is a fatigue-induced bone fracture caused by repeated stress over time. Instead of resulting from a single severe impact, stress fractures are the result of accumulated injury from repeated submaximal loading, such as running or jumping. Because of this mechanism, stress fractures are common overuse injuries in athletes.

Stress fractures can be described as small cracks in the bone, or hairline fractures. Stress fractures of the foot are sometimes called “march fractures” because of the injury’s prevalence among heavily marching soldiers.[2] Stress fractures most frequently occur in weight-bearing bones of the lower extremities, such as the tibia and fibula (bones of the lower leg), metatarsal and navicular bones (bones of the foot). Less common are stress fractures to the femur, pelvis, and sacrum. Treatment usually consists of rest followed by a gradual return to exercise over a period of months.” 

A few weeks ago, I was playing tennis as I regularly do about 3-4 times a week. Also, as usual, my feet really began to hurt after two sets. I find that changing shoes typically helps the situation, so I sat down to change my shoes. It was extremely difficult to get my foot into my shoe — I had to bang it hard to get it in. Finally — success!

Photo by Kindel Media on Pexels.com



So, I was ready to play a third set. But after two points, I realized there was no way I was going to play more tennis. I hobbled home and could barely mount the shallow steps to the front door. It was “Labor Day” so most places were closed. We finally got my painful ankle X-rayed and the doctor who read the X-rays said, “Good news! No new breaks in your ankle.” 

That was good news. 

Except that so far as I knew, I had never broken my ankle in the past! That brings to seven the total number of broken bones I’ve had. 

I was born with flat feet and all my life I’ve had flat feet and pronated ankles. Now, however, things had moved to a new and much worse chapter. I could literally put zero weight on my left leg. Now, I can walk. Which means, I can now play tennis. 

Sort of. 

How could I have broken an ankle and not have been aware of it? Because of the structural defects in my feet, instead of having an arch that works to distribute the stress of running, jumping, and landing, one of the key bones in my arch has moved downward and toward the midline. So now, every time I land hard, the stress is not distributed evenly through the arch but smashes down into the outside of my ankle bone.

That sucks. And it makes playing tennis iffy. And, it’s painful. And, potentially dangerous.

Not so much as the fracturing of American democracy however. 

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

The Putinists have been waging a War on Truth against America for years. They stepped up their game significantly once they began using Epstein’s pal. Who benefits from the War on Truth? 

Not the American citizens! 

The man who got 45 Putin office benefits. 

America has long been the major thorn in the side of Putin’s ambitions to reconstitute the USSR and possibly even to “rule the world.” It’s a crazy ambition, to my way of thinking. But not to would-be dictators. 

I like tennis. 

But some folks like stamp collecting. And some like to quilt. And some few like to destroy the love and livelihood of others in order to gain power. (Essays on America: The Game).

About 2400-2500 Americans were killed by the sudden attack on Pearl Harbor. FDR immediately declared war on Japan. That was like a traumatic bone break to a human body.

The Trumputinists, through their campaign of lies, false cures, false promises, and executive orders have driven up the number of deaths of Americans from the pandemic by hundreds of thousands. According to an article in the respected British Journal, Lancet, 200,000 Americans needlessly died from COVID because of the mishandling of the Trumputin Misadministration. They killed more Americans than were killed in 9/11 and Pearl Harbor and the War in Vietnam, and the Middle Eastern wars combined.

In 1860, the South seceded from the Union. Did Lincoln declare war on the South? No. Did he attack the South? No. The South attacked Fort Sumpter. Do you know how many Americans they killed? 

Zero. 

Two Union soldiers were killed in an accidental explosion while they were leaving the fort.

Even before the pandemic hit, the Mango Mussolini was rolling back safeguards on the food supply, clean water regulations, and clean air regulations. He was isolating America from our allies. All of those actions aimed at destroying America and American lives have redoubled. Every important department of the US government has been damaged; many of the most experienced and dedicated employees have been replaced with podcasters, talk show hosts, political operatives, convicted criminals (pardoned by 47) or sycophantic hangers-on. Many departments were wounded by DOGE “cost savings” but no “DOGE dividend” was ever sent, as promised to ordinary American citizens.



Stress fracture.

He divided the country using the methods that would-be dictators have used for centuries. (See: The Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup).

Stress fracture.

Epstein’s pal replaced patriotic, non-partisan experts throughout government with inept lackeys who would do anything to curry favor with the Putin-backed coup. 

Stress fracture.

The five-time draft dodger did everything he could to destroy the careers of any patriotic Republicans who stood up to him. 

Stress fracture.



45-47, millions of dollars in “dark money” and the Trumputinist backers have subverted confidence in elections and passed “laws” that mean that they can simply “overturn” elections when they don’t win. Nonetheless, they have also passed laws to suppress the votes of POC, the elderly, Armed Services personnel, Native Americans, and students. Suppressing the vote, aside from being unfair, guarantees that inept, cruel, and corrupt politicians will be the norm.

Stress fracture.

The Trumputinists deny that their deadly attack on the United States Capitol was a crime. They claim it was just a regular day of tourism. 


Major stress fracture.



America faces serious problems such as the need for immigration reform, wealth inequality, racial injustice, crumbling infrastructure, cybercrime, social media companies giving in to brutal dictators like Putin, climate disasters. The Trumputinists pretend to want to be part of the solution but actually are doing everything in their power to prevent these crises from being addressed. 

Stress fractures.

As the stress fractures in your body continue to multiply, you will begin to bleed to death internally. And, being unable to move, you will be unable to battle predators of any description.

It’s past time to bring to justice those who are trying to destroy our democracy, even if that makes Putin upset. 

Photo by Donald Tong on Pexels.com

It’s important to remember that in the last Presidential election, Republicans and Democrats worked together throughout the country to run the election. Those were actual Republicans — Americans who are typically more conservative than their Democratic colleagues. Those folks are being threatened with physical violence as are their families unless they pledge to be Trumputinists. Of course, the Trumputinist don’t call themselves “Fascists” or “Trumputinists” but so what?

The “Not-See” Party

(Essays on America: Labelism). 

Stress fracture. 

People who stormed the US Capitol; politicians who support the overthrow of democracy; people who threaten violence against actual Republicans who do not support the big lie — they all need to be dealt with legally, but quickly and thoroughly. 

One thing we do know from history: trying to placate a cruel ego-maniacal dictator by, say, giving them Poland, does not work. Ask the ghost of Neville Chamberlain.

I honestly cannot think of how the Trumputinists could make it more clear. 

They are not playing on team America. 

They have already attacked American democratic institutions and stormed America’s Capitol. 

They have already killed a quarter million innocent Americans. 

They are still perpetuating the big lie. 

They certainly have no business being seated in the Congress of the United States of America.

Many of the Trumputinists have been trained to deny the efficacy of masks, social distancing, and the vaccines. 

But many Democrats have been trained to deny the severity of the crisis we are facing. Ignoring the X-rays and pretending it’s all business as usual won’t knit broken bones back together. 

Ignoring the fact that Trumputinists are fighting an undeclared war on our country will not make us safe any more than shutting our eyes will make us safe from the circling wolf pack or the growing climate crisis or the unsustainable chasm in wealth and opportunity.



(See: The Truth Train).

Democrats will allow many millions to be killed if they do not address, with everything in their power, the slow coup that is breaking America. 

“There is always light if only we’re brave enough to see it…if only we’re brave enough to be it.” — Amanda Gorman





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

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

An Open Sore from Hell

My Cousin Bobby

The Stopping Rule

Wednesdays

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Imagine All the People

The Dance of Billions

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

22 Tuesday Sep 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

America, Corruption, crime, Democracy, Democrat, GOP, graft, history, JFK, loyalty, Nixon, politics, Republican, treason, Trump, truth, USA

————————-

usa flag waving on white metal pole

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Remember the days when you flew a lot for your organization?

Do you remember getting bonus miles from an airline? 

Do you recall that many them (and companies in other industries) called this a “Loyalty Program”?

Why do you suppose some of them called it a “Loyalty Program” instead of a “Frequent Flyer” program? 

Did you ever work for a manager or supervisor or boss whom you felt loyalty toward? 

Why did you feel that loyalty? 

What would you do if you caught your boss stealing from the company? 

Was your relationship to your boss more personal than your loyalty to the company?

IMG_3320

Artwork by Pierce Morgan

I had many part time jobs working my way through college. One of those jobs was as a projectionist (1964). It did not pay much (less than $2/hour), but it was a fun job in many ways. I got to stride all over the large university campus, mainly to show slides or movies to classes in the School of Architecture, Law School, Medical School, etc. I had a direct supervisor, let’s call him Ted, who taught me the facts of life — at least, when it came to male & female plugs, the value of looping your cords, and of carrying with you at all times on the job, a spare projection lamp, a spare sound drum lamp, and a small film-splicing kit. He happened to be a Democrat. 

Another man, tall and bald (let’s call him Mr. “Cramer), served as boss for the whole A/V department. He was a Republican, like me. I liked both of the people in my “management chain.” Neither one played any stupid “power games.” So far as I could see, we all just wanted to do a good job. That applied to my co-workers as well though I only interacted with them rarely. The nature of being a projectionist then led almost exclusively to solo gigs. 

That was okay with me. If there had been two of us in a projection both hidden away from fellow students and faculty, by sight and sound, being Sophomores, we probably would have acted sophomoronically and made fun of the material being presented or ignored it entirely and played cards or solved the world’s problems in a BS session. Working alone, I listened to every single lecture on topics that would never have been covered in my paid classes; e.g., American 20th Century Architects including my favorite, Frank Lloyd Wright (awesome!); Collagen as a possible cause of aging (it isn’t); Alcohol and Driving. (Spoiler alert on that last one — not a good idea). 

close up photo of martini in cocktail glass

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In order to get paid (for attending these free lectures), I had to fill out a time card every day and sign it at the end of the week. My direct supervisor hinted that I could put down a few more hours than I actually worked. I didn’t do that. He hinted again. I still didn’t do it. Eventually, Mr. Cramer spoke to me. He explained that if the department didn’t bill for their allotted hours, the departmental budget for the next year would be cut to match the hours that were billed for the current year. I still didn’t pad my hours, though I certainly could have used the money. It did seem a bit unfair to me that the department would have their budget cut because they were efficient. On the other hand, from the perspective of the entire university, it didn’t seem like such a ridiculous system. I didn’t feel as though I was being “disloyal” to my direct supervisor or the department boss to write down my true hours. Nor, did I feel particularly virtuous in putting my hours down accurately. It was just what I felt was the right thing to do. I don’t think it actually occurred to me to try to “rat on” my boss about the policy of padding the hours. I’m not sure whether that thought ever crossed my mind, but I didn’t do it. 

It should be noted that at that point in my life, I considered myself a Republican, though I was not yet old enough to vote. My parents had both been Republican. My mother’s entire family was Republican. I was enthusiastic about Eisenhower and  went to see Nixon talk at a nearby shopping center. I was only about 20-30 feet away. I have zero recollection of what he said, but he had seemed wonderful at the time. 

That same year, I also went to see Kennedy in an open car motorcade down Triplett Boulevard in Akron. He didn’t give a speech; he just waved to the crowd. I was curious because I had heard that he was super handsome. To me, he looked awful and not the least bit handsome. I could not understand why women thought he was attractive. His face looked like wrinkled leather to me. I grew up Republican and was “rooting for” Nixon. (Even my mother thought JFK was handsome, though she still voted for Nixon). 

Nonetheless, like nearly everyone I knew, I was fairly well devastated by John F. Kennedy’s assassination the year before I began working in the university A/V department. I was deeply saddened by his death and wondered seriously about the “conspiracy theories” about Johnson (among other possible criminal masterminds) having engineered the assassination. I didn’t believe any of them, but I did consider many of them as real possibilities. 

But even if it had turned out that Johnson had engineered he whole thing, I wouldn’t have believed that every Democrat was a crook or an evil person. I knew people who were Democrats and they weren’t any more or less ethical than Republicans. They had a different agenda. And a different espoused philosophy. 

woman with face paint with pumpkin

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Ayn Rand had written two of my (then) favorite books, The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. Great stuff, I thought at the time. I felt like I could be one of the heroes in her books. I see now that people are much more interdependent than I realized back then (although, the degree and scope of interdependence has also increased over the last half century — a lot). Her work, at that time, gave me a philosophy somewhat in line with what the Republican Party said it was about — a high degree of individual freedom coupled with a high degree of individual responsibility, focused on, but not limited to oneself. 

In the current days, there are still people who label themselves as “Republican” who claim to subscribe to Ayn Rand’s philosophy. As someone who used to be very simpatico to her ideas, I cry “Bullshit!” The character of folks like Mitch McConnell, Donald Trump, and Rand Paul are much like some of the villains in her fiction — nothing like the heroes. The heroes of The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged are the people who earn a lot of money for actually producing something worthwhile; e.g., amazing buildings or a new and extremely cheap energy source. The villains are the cheats and the con men and the people who call in political favors and give contracts to people for kickbacks. The villains are the people who try to subvert the cheap new energy source to keep their oil profits.

Moreover, though it’s risky business to speak on behalf of a dead person, let me put it this way. I cannot imagine Ayn Rand agreeing to the kind of shenanigans that the GOP is trying to pull off now. She would have no doubt been against social security and for privatization. But she would not have thought it ethical to steal the money from the social security taxes and give it out to billionaires. In fact, she was for a progressive income tax. Her rationale was that the rich benefit so much more than do the poor from all the legitimate functions of government: police, fire, roads, post office, armed forces, courts of law, education(?). I’m not sure any more of her precise list, but it’s very short. It certainly doesn’t include having the government take on the job of dictating religious beliefs, or restricting sexual behavior among consenting adults, or of subverting elections, or of taking on the role of Crime Family in Chief. 

Trumputinists are not in any way shape or form taking their values or agenda from Ayn Rand. Some of them are absurdly accurate real-life portraits of her cartoonish villains. None are anything like her heroes. All her heroes provided actual value. Trading money and favors and telling lies and making false promises and being a con man and a child molester — these are not value-creating activities. Not heroes. Villains. 

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

Of course, there’s nothing sacred about Ayn Rand’s (mislabelled) system of “Objectivism.” There’s no particular reason why the Republican Party, or any other party, should base it’s own philosophy on “Objectivism” but it has made me suspicious about what the Republicans are really are up to. They have claimed to be about individual freedom, but have increasingly been for taking freedoms away — the Second Amendment being the singular exception. Instead of being for real freedoms that actually matter such as — very importantly — Freedom of Religion and Freedom of Speech, they now generate and promulgate made up freedoms such as “The Freedom to Infect Others” or “The Freedom to be an Asshole” and the “Freedom to Call the Police when POC Exists Somewhere I Can See Them.” These are not freedoms. And they are certainly not in line with responsibility. 

So, as you might now guess, I have come a long way politically from being an Ayn Rand fan and a Republican to being a liberal Democrat. Some of that is because I have changed. As I said, it’s far clearer to me now that we really don’t earn our money independently of each other. We don’t live our lives independently. All of us are in this together whether we admit it or not. 

It hasn’t just been me who has been changing though. When I was first forming my opinions about the two major US political parties, it was more often the Southern Democrats who were promoting racism than it was Republicans. And, it was Democrats, not Republicans, who seemed more instrumental in getting us into dubious wars, dubiously led.

police army commando special task force

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Some of the Republican values seemed to have completely reversed from before. For instance, at this point, the Republican Party is far more ready to embrace racism and racists. No serious Democratic political entity would do that — at least not intentionally. That, to me, is sufficiently evil to put the GOP out of the running for my votes.

On the other hand, until recently at least, the GOP had some quite reasonable positions. I didn’t agree with them all, but they were reasonable. How much should America put time, energy, dollars, and the lives of our citizens at risk to make the world a more democratic place? You can’t look up the answer to a question like that in a trig table. It’s a complex issue requiring a balance of long-term direction and short-term flexibility so you can do the right thing even though the “right thing” is a choice between the lesser of two evils.

How fiscally conservative should the US Government be? How much should the government try to regulate different industries and companies? How much of our tax dollars should go to research various topics in science and medicine? What do we do about climate change? There are a host of issues where it’s actually useful to get input from a variety of different sources and where working together makes sense. 

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Lately, however, the so-called “Republican Party” has made such a sweeping change, that it seems absurd to me to even call it the “Republican” Party any longer. 

For example, “How fiscally conservative should the US Government be?” is not a question that the so-called Republican party even deigns to consider. They have new position which is: “Make the economy look good and do whatever it takes to make the DOW go up all the while funneling as much money as possible to us and a few of our friends.” That is not a political position! That is a criminal position.

abstract barbed wire black white black and white

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“How much should the government try to regulate different industries and companies?” is not a question that the so-called Republican party wants to consider. Their position is, “How can we make Americans sick by rolling back EPA and OSHA regulations while simultaneously getting kickbacks and making the economy look better.” That is what they are about. Again, it is not a political compromise about where to be on some tradeoff function between economics and health. No. It’s a strategy for crime; for graft; for stealing your tax dollars and making the planet worse for your children and grandchildren — not better — worse. 

“How much of your tax dollars should go to various topics in science and medicine?” This no longer interests the So-Called Republican Party (SCRAP). What does interest them is to funnel as much of your tax dollars as they can to their friends and family and donors. Scientific peer review? So experts will determine what should be funded? Ridiculous! We’ll fund whomever we damned well please. Again, that is not a political tradeoff that should be debated; e.g., how much research money should go to long term versus short term research. No, it is a criminal agenda. That is what SCRAP is up to. In fact, since I published an earlier version of this post, they have morphed into trying to destroy American science entirely. A better name for what they are up to now is the “Not-See Party.”

“What do we do about climate change?” This is an issue that everyone in every party should care about. It is about the quality of the world that we leave for our children, our grand-children, our great grand-children and all the living beings on this planet! And what is the “Not-See Party” position on how we should go about this? It isn’t a problem! It doesn’t exist! It’s all a hoax! 

glacier bay national park and preserve

Photo by Stephen Meyers on Pexels.com

What? Seriously? 

Not so long ago, Republicans and Democrats differed in their philosophies about Judges. The Republicans generally preferred “Strict Constitutionalists” while Democrats preferred judges who would take into account the current situation in interpreting the Constitution. This is nothing like what the “Not-See Party” members on the US Extreme Court are doing. The “Not See Party” wants to select as many judges as possible who will swear loyalty to the Oligarchy.  This is tough to carry out because people often, but not always, get into the law because they respect the Law. So, “conservatives” and “strict constitutionalists” may refuse to render opinions just to please the people who got them confirmed. But the fact that the “Not-See Party” is trying to execute an ineffective criminal plan doesn’t make it any less criminal. 

Political parties evolve. They change. They will continue to change. 

Evolution takes time though. The Republican and Democratic Parties changed their positions on racism over the course of decades.

The changes I am talking about above are massive changes. And, they have taken place only since Donald Trump took office and they have accelerated after the GOP Senate refused (save Mitt Romney) to convict Trump on his impeachment charges. Perhaps even more important than the fact that they failed to convict Trump is that Mitch McConnell swore, along with all the other Senators, to hold a fair and impartial trial. And, then, Mitch McConnell, in full view of everyone, smiled and laughed and promised that Trump would be found Not Guilty and that he would coordinate his running of the trial with Trump’s defense team. He promised Trump that they would subpoena no documents and call no witnesses. 

This goes way beyond being loyal to “your team” or “your party” — this is putting the Party above the Country. This is SCRAP or Not-See Party, not the GOP, not the traditional Republican Party. If anything, my expectations are that actual Republicans might be faulted too much for sticking to the rules and might do so even when common sense demanded a slight bending of the rules. But this is not “bending the rules.” This is throwing the whole idea that rules matter completely out the window. You may think that’s just swell. I don’t. And maybe we can debate that later. But the point here is that it is a massive change in what the label “GOP” is applied to. 

brown and white snake

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

If you think of yourself as a Republican, you have to do some real soul searching here. Are you being loyal to the “Republican Party” that you’ve been a part of for awhile? Or are you being loyal to SCRAP or the “Not-See Party”? Old Time Republican Party — believed in the rule of law; believed in playing fair; believed American power in international affairs was important; believed in individual responsibility. The “Not-See Party” – believes in dictatorship; believes in cheating; believes in letting Russia dictate foreign policy; believes in magic and crime not data-based management of government. They even believe in protecting pedophiles and ignoring and demeaning the victims of pedophilia.

And, there are consequences. In the rush to fulfill Trump’s agenda (make the Trump Crime Family Rich and stay in power as dictator), people have died who did not need to die from COVID19. The respected British medical journal Lancet estimated that at least 200,000 Americans needlessly died from COVID.  Is that really what you signed up for? Is that really the Republican Party? I don’t think it is. But I’m no longer a Republican. I’m looking at this from the outside. The Republicans I have known throughout my life would not support most of this SCRAP. Mr. Cramer, my old A/V boss would not have supported this SCRAP. My grandfather would not have supported this SCRAP. My three uncles who fought in World War II against the Nazis would not have supported this SCRAP. My mother would not have supported this Not-See Party. My father, who also fought in WWII would not have supported this SCRAP.

How about you? 

Where does your loyalty lie? 

architecture art clouds landmark

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Author Page on Amazon

Trumpism is a New Religion

You Bet Your Life

Wednesday

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Do Not Hate

08 Tuesday Sep 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, leadership, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, leadership, life, love, mental-health, peace, poetry, politics, truth, ubuntu, USA, writing

Do not hate.

Do not hate.
Demonstrate. 

Do not hate. 

Educate.

Do not hate.

Navigate.

Do not hate. 

Negotiate. 

Do not hate.
Cooperate.

Justified?
It may well be. 
Everyone who ever hates

Can generate a heap of lies
To make their hate seem justified.

But why be fustified? 

When there are so many better things

To fill your heart and mind?

Do not hate. 

Demonstrate.

Show through word and deed

That hate and greed 

Are not the only creed.

Do not hate.
Educate.

Hate is always based on lies.
There may be one you really do despise.

But everyone? 

That’s a loaded gun

Aimed without a thought

About the cost. 

Do not hate.
Navigate. 

The shortest path 

Is not always the fastest path.

Look ahead.

Use your head. 

Don’t get dead.

Do not hate.
Negotiate. 

It doesn’t always work.

But it’s always worth a try.

Just don’t be a jerk. 

Diplomacy apply. 

Do not hate.

Cooperate. 

There’s at least one thing

About the world that both sides love

Of that you sing

Help that thing rise above.

But mainly, do not hate

Because it hurts you to hate.

Guernica

A Civil War there Never Was

Somewhere a Bird Cries

The Crows and Me

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Small Steps

The Dance of Billions

Some recommended books:

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

We’re all in this together

29 Saturday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, leadership, love, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

community, cooperation, Democracy, earth, green, love, music, nature, peace, poem, poetry, relationships, society, ubuntu, writing

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one. 

Oh, my God, it can’t be true. 

Perhaps for me, but not for you! 

You’re too black or brown or yellow!

I’m just an ordinary fellow! 

You’re too gay or straight or mellow!

You even eat that apple jello! 

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.

Old & young and in-between;

The ever-seen and never-seen.

Oh, my God, it can’t be true. 

Perhaps for me, but not for you! 

You’re too fat or skinny or too tall!

Perhaps you’re short and way too small! 

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.

Into games or sports of every sort.

Even tall and short and every sort.



Oh, my God, it can’t be true. 

Perhaps for me, but not for you! 

You’re too shallow, smart, or kind;

Too lame or sick or different mind. 

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.


Take a glance join the dance

The Watershed Virus

The only “them” that counts is all of us

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Fire and Ice

The “All for me” Bee

Life Will Find a Way

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Dance of Billions

Small Steps

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

Dog Years

28 Friday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, nature, pets

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

charlie-brown, dogs, family, fiction, goldens, kids, life, parenting, pets, politics, story, truth, USA, writing

NOTE: I originally wrote this after a long rainy spell in San Diego. In fact, it hasn’t rained here for quite a while, but I believe we will have another long string of rainy days before long. We’ll see. Meanwhile….

Sunshine was one of my reasons for moving to San Diego. It wasn’t the most important, but it was important and I appreciate the Sunshine. For the past week, however, Sunshine took a long-awaited vacation. Apparently, Sunshine was running some sort of scam on the weather forecasters, calling up and saying, “Hi! It’s Sunshine! I’m feeling so much better today! I’ll be at work as usual tomorrow. You can count on it. 

And then, when daybreak arrives the next day, it doesn’t. That is to say, when it should arrive, it doesn’t because Sunshine has overslept. Again. I suspect it might be because of all-night partying last night on the other side of the world. 

You would think that the weather forecasters would catch on. You might even think that they would have seen the famous “Charlie Brown” cartoon meme in which Charlie Brown’s frienemy Lucy, promises him, year after year, that she will dutifully hold the football and not pull it away—not this time. And, dutifully, year after year, Charlie Brown decides that this will, or at least might be, the year that Lucy finally does the right thing. 

But of course, she doesn’t do the right thing. And, Charlie falls flat on his back every time. Lucy smiles. 

So apparently, this week, did the Sunshine. Taking vacation elsewhere and not showing more than a stray ray or two in San Diego allowed for the deluge. Other places farther north had it much worse, in terms of rainfall and damage. Worldwide, what we now call extreme weather may, in many places, become more “normal” and extreme weather will become deadlier. 

In any case, I am have been just as foolish as the weather forecasters and Charlie Brown. Every day, my phone app has said the rain would be over in a day or two. And, then, two days later…same forecast is dutifully presented. But not the promised reality. 

Photo by Sourav Mishra on Pexels.com

Sadie, meanwhile has been very patient about the fact that our walks have been typically much shorter all week. She has also been patient about not being allowed to dig in the dirt. More accurately, she wasn’t allowed to dig in the mud. There was no “dirt” around. It’s not idle digging. She hears and smells gophers and goes after them. Unsuccessfully. Every time. She’s dug for gophers more than the San Diego weather forecasters trusted Sunshine’s repeated false assurances that tomorrow the rain would end; indeed, even more often than Charlie Brown has over-trusted Lucy.

Sadie persists. She enjoys the process. Maybe the weather forecasters enjoy knowing that they made everyone feel hopeful that could play tennis in a few days (or have a picnic or mow the lawn or harvest their fruit in sunshine). Maybe Charlie Brown enjoys being the kind of person who would give another one more chance to be good, even if they never take that chance than to be more cynical and realistic. 

I can’t say what the motivations are for Charlie Brown and the weather forecasters, but I am sure Sadie enjoys the digging. She certainly has little care for how dirty her paws get or whether she spews mud on my shoes. My philosophy may be a mixture of Charlie Brown and the San Diego Cabal of Sun Predictors. I believe Sadie should spend some time “just being a dog.”  In other words, she should be in at least partial charge of what she does and be allowed to follow her “instincts” unless it poses a true danger and not just because, say, she tracks mud into the house.

As I was watching Sadie dig, and I was sliding sideways to prevent becoming muck-inundated, it occurred to me that I too, had some years of “just being a dog.” My parents, I think, thought of it as time for my “just being a kid.” In some cases, I heard adults say, “Oh, it’s just boys being boys” when we played in the dirt, fought with sticks, or had “rock wars” wherein we literally threw rocks at each other. 

Not all adults were on this plan 100%. My own parents would let me play in the dirt often times, but they did not want me to participate in rock fights or stick duels. Evading those restrictions was trivial. We weren’t trying to be bad. But we knew our friends would not to try to blind us with sticks or stones. We believed implicitly that since we weren’t intentionally trying to blind each other, it wouldn’t happen. 

Though there were local variations in the strictness of restrictions, we were always able to do some version of “just being a kid” which truthfully, was not all that different from “just being a dog.” 

I had just as little care about muddying my shoes or fingernails as Sadie does about muddying her paws. I’d say my “dog years” were mainly between six and thirteen. Before six, my parents or other caregivers wouldn’t leave me alone long enough to get in real trouble. I mean, I managed all the usual little things like peeing into electrical outlets, throwing stuff down the “registers” (heating vents) to see what would happen, and writing in books and on walls, but there was no opportunity to have rock fights or get muddy from head to foot. 

From ages six to thirteen, however, I spent a lot of time outdoors unsupervised. Plenty of time to be a dog. A few years later, however, it dawned on me that girls might find me more attractive if I were less muddy. My mother might have planted that suggestion. 

Photo by Ahmed akacha on Pexels.com

There’s no doubt that many of the “instincts” I had were not very effective guides. They weren’t as effective as the knowledge that science and society had developed over centuries. On balance, I still believe having some dog years is a risk worth taking. 

For a dog.

Or for a kid. 

————————————

Author page on Amazon

Author Page on Amazon

My Cousin Bobby

Sadie is a thief! 

Sadie

Sunday Sonnet for Sadie

Sadie

Play Ball: The Squeaky Ball

Skirting the Turtle

Life Will Find a Way

Math Class

The Most Important Work

Dog Trainers

Recommended Books:

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

Unite!

25 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, leadership, love, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, family, fiction, life, love, poetry, politics, story, truth, USA, writing

Fight the Night and Light the Light: Unite!

Let King take wing. His ring is not your thing.

Be Free, you see: that’s victory for thee.

Don’t cling to King 

Sing your thing

Let it swing you into soaring wing. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A tight rope height slightly frights your sight.

Delights the kite you hide within your might;

It shatters your delusions;

Tickles your allusions;

You see right through their brightly lit illusions.

A snarky shark remarks on quarks and sparks your curiosity.

Once understanding parks its marks in Noah’s arks,

They multiply ferocity. 

Embark upon the journey with a smile.

Don’t always form in rank and file. 

Be sure to recall:

That Life Will Find a Way;

That Cancer Always Loses in the End;

Honest Folks can always find a friend;

Play hard on every Play;

Learn from every fall.

———————-

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Dance of Billions

Imagine All the People

All We Stand to Lose

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chip

Fish Have no Word for Water

After the Reign

Small Steps

Life Will Find a Way

Cancer Always Loses in the End

Your Cage is Unlocked

Some book recommendations:

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

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