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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Category Archives: management

Drowning in the Obvious, Denied by the Oblivious

06 Wednesday May 2020

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, death, Dictatorship, fascism, leaderless, life, pandemic, truth, tyranny

person riding a bicycle during rainy day

Photo by Genaro Servín on Pexels.com

 

The rain has continued nearly unabated for an unknown interval — perhaps only days, probably weeks, possibly years. Even continuous rain might be more bearable. 

No. 

Cruelly, there is the slight hint of cessation, a suggestion of passing clouds and possible sunshine. But none of these promises comes to fruition.  

clouds dark dramatic heaven

Photo by Adam Kontor on Pexels.com

The cottage is seeped with dampness. The rose petals all have fallen. Nettles and thorns clamor at the windows asking for entry, if not for themselves, then surely for their insect pals. 

Rugs, clothing, mattresses feel damp to the touch; smell of mold and decay.  In the distance, one hears rumblings and senses the blue flash. Between these punctuated blasts, the ever-present murmuring of pattering raindrops like a multitude of questioning voices.  

“How did this come to be?” they seem to say. 

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“Once, we were a sunny land, a happy band.” Two tall trees toppled, it’s true, but brave deeds followed. And, still the land prospered. But not all deeds in those dark and dreadful days were brave. Oh, no. A few ignoble kings saw not tragedy but opportunity. Opportunity knocks but several times. One must jump at the chances. Take the bull by the horns and consolidate one’s power!  

If one has power, does not one have the responsibility to make that power everlasting and absolute? 

Riders rode through the range shouting: “dissent is disastrous treason!”  Many mechanical minions made waves, intimidated, fooled, lied, and finally hauled Mordor itself to the American shores, the American way of life, the fabric of our once-bright country that yet could be again.  

This is the way Democracy dies.
This is the way Democracy dies. 

This is the way Democracy dies.
Not with a bang but a wimp-out.  

IMG_1442 


 

Fiction about real leadership in a series of crises. 

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-academic

Trumpism is a New Religion

You Bet Your Life.

Rejecting Adulthood

A Lot is Not a Little

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John vs. Worrier

02 Saturday May 2020

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

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

anxiety, blind, blizzard, fiction, hope, lost, New England, psychology, self-help, snowstorm, story, winter

snow covered mountain during golden hour

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The blizzard had passed; now, calm, serene. Snow glittered on the Boston suburb of Woburn. “Perfect time for a walk,” John thought. Sun played hide and seek as he set off to scale the “mountain” whose summit offered Boston skyline glimpses. 

The woods were beautiful, bright and deep. Across the spit of land between marsh and lake, Sunday afternoon, he strode with confidence. Atop the summit, Boston glowing gold in sun.  

administration ancient architecture blue sky

Photo by Rakim Davis on Pexels.com

Then, Storm’s other half hit.  With vengeance.

Wading waist high through snow drifts, John could hardly see ahead. He’d climbed this hill a hundred times. He knew the way, if only he could see anything beyond white horizontal hordes of sleety flakes; if only he could hear beyond wind howling through his head.   

cold freezing frost frosty

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

The rain/sleet/hail/snow pelted relentless. John shivered. He felt ice needles trickling down his neck and biting through his gloves. 

“Crap. Can’t be more than four miles from home.”

“People have been lost in wilderness, run circles and died within a hundred yards of major highways.” 

“Who? Oh, you again. I told you to go away. Anyway, that’s not going to happen to me.  This isn’t wilderness anyway. It’s suburban Boston. I know this land. If only I could see….”

close up photography of a snow

Photo by Constantin Dorin Adrian on Pexels.com

“Notice how snows falls into your boots? Note you’re breathing?”

“Whatever. I’m making progress. I’m strong; moving through these chest-high drifts.” 

“Progress? A funny term. You’re moving. Toward what though? No sun, no visibility. Towards what?”

“I know where I’m going.” 

“Using stellar navigation or solar?”

“Shut up!”

An hour later, home with kids, weather and worrier defeated, John wonders only for the briefest moment if things might have turned out differently.  He laughs and Worrier sighs and pulls the lid back in place atop his sarcophagus. 

white painted tomb

Photo by Matthias Groeneveld on Pexels.com


Index to Essays of 2019

Index to Fiction of 2019

The Blog in Review for 2017

Index to “Pattern Language for Collaboration and Teamwork” 

Author Page on Amazon

The beginning of The Myths of the Veritas. (Stories that explore leadership, empathy, and ethics in times of crisis).

Tales of an American Childhood (Amazon)

 

Essays on America: OOPS!

29 Wednesday Apr 2020

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

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, Design, Feedback, pandemic, politics, systems thinking, testing, truth

 

sunset skyline boston dusk

Photo by Kristin Vogt on Pexels.com

OOPS!  

The basement in the rented Woburn house was not particularly pleasant. Cold, damp, and dark, there were only four small basement windows and even these were cluttered with spider webs. One day, in order to try to make the place marginally more usable for my three small kids, I removed all the spider webs. The next day, the basement was swarming with hornets! 

OOPS! 

We had an oil burning furnace in that basement. The landlord cautioned me before we even rented it, that a pair of knobs should be used to make sure that the water level in glass vial be kept between two marks. This gauge looked like the gauge in a level.

I glanced at the gauge every so often. Initially, I checked it every day or so. But the level never moved. So, I began checking it every week. But it still never moved. It never seemed to move for two years. One day, I glanced at it, and to my horror, the gauge was almost completely empty. 

OOPS! 

Now, I was faced with a dilemma. Which of these two knobs was I supposed to turn? There were no labels. There hadn’t been any when I rented the property. Of course, I should have asked the owner more questions during the walk-through. And, then I should have immediately made my own labels. But I hadn’t. 

OOPS! 

I could not recall which knob would cause the fluid level to rise. I decided to try it. I just opened it a little bit. Nothing. I watched closely. I waited. Nothing. As in the illustration above, there were no marks either on the knobs or on metal behind them. So, I wanted to return the first knob to its initial position. But in my hurry to “fix” the problem, it hadn’t occurred to me to put a little mark on the knob and the background so that I would at least be able to return it to the original position. 

OOPS! 

Well, okay but it was too late for that now. I waited. Nothing. I turned the first knob back to where I thought it was. The glass was still nearly empty. Was it slightly less empty than it had been? Or was it slightly more empty? I wasn’t really sure. I should have also marked the level very carefully. I didn’t. 

OOPS! 

So, the glass tube was nearly empty. I did definitely remember that I had been told this was a very dangerous situation! I had tried one knob and it hadn’t seem to do anything. I decided to try the other knob. I turned it a little. Nothing. I waited. Nothing. At this point, the sweat was pouring down the inside of my undershirt. I wasn’t really clear what might happen if I failed. Could the boiler actually blow up? Could it cause a fire? Or would I be lucky and it would just ruin the furnace? 

I opened the second knob a bit farther. Nothing. I waited. I opened it a bit farther. Nothing. I opened it a bit farther. Nothing. 

Then, suddenly, the vial began to fill. Rapidly! Too rapidly! I quickly turned the second knob back to what I hoped had been its original position. The vial was still filling. Try as I might, I could not get the vial to stop filling! 

 

Bang!! 

OOPS!

The glass vial had broken. Luckily I had not been hit by the flying glass. I turned off the furnace and called the owner. Eventually, it was fixed. In a few months, we moved to Westchester, New York. 

Perhaps few people have had the exact experience I had with an oil burner, but I suspect almost everyone has travelled to a new place on vacation or a business trip or visiting a friend and decided to take a shower at some point. (Think back to the pre-pandemic days). 

If you are in most bathrooms for the first time, you really have no idea how to arrange the knobs for a reasonable shower temperature. If you move the knob(s) and feel the change almost immediately, you can quickly arrange things so that you have a comfortable shower. In some houses or hotels, however, if you move the knob, there is a significant delay before you feel any change in the water temperature. You might arrange it so the water is perfect. You get in the shower, and you get your self soapy and …

OOPS! 

You are suddenly being boiled alive! So, you step out of the scalding water, and drip water all over the floor and go back round to the controls and turn the knobs until it feels comfortable again. You’ve learned your lesson. So you wait. Still comfy. Good. In you go. Ah, feels nice…

OOPS! 

Suddenly you are being sprayed with ice water! 

Think back and you’ve quite likely experienced something like this. If the feedback is delayed a bit, it makes it harder to adjust things. And, if the feedback for your actions is delayed a lot, it makes the adjustment very difficult indeed. Of course, if you have experience with that particular system or you have a decent model of how the system works, then, you can do a much more reasonable job of adjustment. 

Guess what? This is one of the factors that makes “opening the economy back up” extremely hard to do safely. I didn’t say “impossible” but very difficult. If you decrease social distancing regulations and people respond to those regulations by doing precisely as you’ve directed, it will be at least a week before you have reliable feedback about whether your actions have been too little lifting of restrictions, just right, too much or way too much. (It’s quite possible the “Goldilocks Zone” between surging cases way beyond hospital capacity and destroying the economy is very narrow).  

And, now let’s imagine that you are one of those politicians who looks at the data and immediately realizes and admits that you opened things up way too much. You retrench. You close things down. Once again, there will be a delay before the rate of new infections, new hospitalizations, and deaths starts to decline again. Meanwhile, even if you, the mayor or governor is wise enough to savvy to the delayed feedback, many of your constituents will not be. 

“What do you mean, you’re closing back down!!? You just opened up two weeks ago! I brought everybody back, assured my customers it was fine, bought all this inventory — and you shut me down!? Now, I’ve been shut down a week and so what? The cases keep going up anyway. Your order is bullshit and has no impact!” 

If you bow to that pressure, it will be a disaster. 

OOPS! 

If you are a mayor governor, you also need to realize that your orders themselves have zero impact on the pandemic. What does matter, but which is influenced by your orders, is actual behavior. It may seem an obvious point, but it seems to be overlooked. If for example, you have been honest and open with the public, other things being equal, you will get greater compliance and faster compliance. If you have not been honest, on the other hand, you will get  (other things being equal) less complete compliance and slower compliance. As leader, the feedback between what you do and what you see in terms of cases will take a least a week just based on the nature of the disease. But there may also be additional time lag because of the fact that people will not all comply. It would be really good to have measures in place of aggregate compliance in order to understand what is really happening. 

Sadly, COVID19 is worse — much worse — in this regard than the shower example. I don’t just mean that the outcome is potentially worse than an uncomfortable shower. It is, obviously. What I mean is that the other examples, though they had delay, were (at least till I got in the loop) basically linear systems.

Spread of contagious diseases is nothing like that! 

It is exponential growth. Exponential growth can be explosive growth. 

You may recall from your high school days, that rabbits were introduced to Australia and for a time bred for food. At some point, they began to undergo a population explosion and became serious pests for Australia. 

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

You might find this paragraph of particular interest: 

“The population explosion was ascribed to the disappearance of native predators, but the emergence of a hardier breed by natural selection has subsequently been attributed to their spread.” — op. cit. (4/28/2020)

 

Awkwardly worded, but I take it to mean that one of the effects of exponential growth is that it can result in hardier breeds. I suppose that the hardier breeds also help foster that exponential growth. A resurgent pandemic also means an explosion — not just in the number of humans who are affected — it also means an explosion in the number of COVID19 viruses on the planet. Therefore, there is a much greater population from which adaptive mutations of various kinds can arise.

There is already evidence that COVID19 has evolved and now exists in different strains. Some strains may be more virulent than others. The degree of cross-strain immunity is as yet unknown. (Update?)

OOPS!

Imagine you live in a straw house. It’s actually pretty comfortable most of the time. But one night it gets really cold, so you decide to start a fire for warmth. Of course, you realize that your house is straw so you aim to be very very careful. And you are. And, then two sparks from your fire spew out in two different directions and set your entire house on fire. Of course, you do your best to put it out. But you don’t. It got away from you. 

OOPS!

——————————————-

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Trumpism is a New Religion

You Bet Your Life!

Citizen Soldiers. 

Parametric Recipes and American Democracy

Essays on America: The Game

Author Page on Amazon

Process Re-engineering Moves to Baseball 

25 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, management, politics, sports, Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

baseball, Business, Consulting, Design, efficiency, process, Process Re-engineering, sports, Trumpism, truth, work

[I wrote this satire when I was Executive Director of the AI lab at NYNEX back in the 1990’s. At that time, “Business Process Re-engineering” was a huge management fad. Here’s how it worked, in short. Consultants would ask top executives how their part of the organization worked. Then, the consultants would make a map of one of the processes of the organization. This was called the “As Is” map. Then, the consultants would simplify that to produce the map of the ideal (and supposedly more efficient) process. Then, the executives would pay the consultants a bunch of money and insist that their organizations stop using the “As Is” map and instead do things according to the “Should Be” map. In a few cases, there were some inefficient processes that were replaced with better ones. But in many cases, the “As Is” map was made based on a fantasy of what was going on in the organization. Unless the executive had “worked their way up the ranks” by actually doing the jobs, these “As Is” maps were almost certain to be ridiculous over-simplifications. Even if the executives had worked their way up, they could still be way off because markets change, technology changes, and workers change. Despite the fact that I wrote this about 25 years ago, to me, it seems much like the kind of ignorant and egomaniacal over-simplified mis-thinking that is rampant in the Trumputin Misadministration. So, I thought it appropriate to publish. (And, I miss baseball).] 

 

person holding baseball bat

Photo by Mandie Inman on Pexels.com

 

 

In a surprise move today, the take-over executive known affectionately as B. S. announced a take-over of the New York Yankees. 

INTERVIEW ONE 

B.S.: “The Yankees are facing new competitive pressures, and we will be bringing our management skills to the team to help them deal with those pressures and increase shareholder value while maintaining player morale and improving customer service.” 

Reporter: “So, what exactly will you be doing?” 

B.S.: “First, we brought in an outside Management Consulting Firm. Just between you and me, we paid them big bucks! But it was worth it.” 

Reporter:”Worth it how? What will you be doing?” 

B.S.:”Well, for starters, we’re downsizing the on-the-field team from nine to six players.” 

Reporter:”Uh….did these management consultants actually know how to play baseball?” 

B.S.”Probably. Maybe. I don’t really know. But that’s not the point. They are top-notch accountants. We plan to increase our operating efficiency 33%.” 

Reporter:”Fascinating. Any other plans.” 

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B.S.:”We have to be willing to change, you know, flow with the times. Once, spring training made sense. But in today’s highly competitive economy, we won’t be able to afford frills like that.” 

Reporter: “Cool. No training. That should save some bucks!” 

B.S.:”You said it! We have to pay for our big executive bonuses somehow. After all, we deserve to make more money for … well … for being rich.” 

Reporter: “Any other productivity measures?” 

B.S.: “Well, this inventory of bats, balls, mitts — I mean that has just gotten completely out of hand. Sure, I suppose we should keep a bat for the team, but having all those individual bats? Nonsense. And, don’t get me started on mitts!” 

Reporter:”No mitts? Won’t that decrease your fielding effectiveness?” 

B.S.:”No, we have a Quality Process to improve our fielding effectiveness. Besides our management consultants pointed out that cricket fielders don’t use mitts.” 

baseball glove and ball

Photo by Alexandro David on Pexels.com

Reporter: “Well, Mr. B.S., I think the Yankee fans are in for a real — a really different experience this season.” 

B.S.: “Thanks! And, believe me, Wall Street has already taken notice. The Market to Book value is up 10% already. Just wait till we move into the football market.” 

Reporter: “Football?” 

B.S.:”Sure. There’s no reason at all these ball-players can’t make themselves useful in the off-season by playing football.” 

Reporter:”Well, with a few exceptions, it takes a different set of skills — and a different body type even to —“ 

B.S.:”B*** S***! That’s what those nambly-pambly unions would like you to believe. Didn’t you play football and baseball when you were a kid? Huh?” 

Reporter: “Well, yes, but not at a professional level. I mean….” 

B.S.”Well, we’re going to increase shareholder value. Period. End of discussion.” 

football game

Photo by football wife on Pexels.com

 

 

INTERVIEW TWO 

Reporter: “So, B.S., how is your plan going?” 

B.S.: “Great! Fantastic!” 

Reporter: “So, you’re winning ball games then?” 

B.S. “We are meeting all our financial targets for cost-containment. In fact, our top-notch accounting team has uncovered another big cost savings.” 

Reporter: “Really? What?” 

B.S.:”We’re going to outsource our pitching. No more high-paid prima donnas! Nope. We’ve found a vendor who can provide pitching for 1/10 of our current costs!” 

Reporter: “Hmmm. I don’t know. They say, pitching is 80% of baseball.” 

B.S.: “Exactly, my point, boy!” 

Reporter: “Well, are you actually winning games?” 

B. S. “I already told you, our costs are down significantly!” 

Reporter: “Yes, but when you actually get out on the field, do you score more points than your opponents?” 

B.S. “There are some temporary performance anomalies — mostly due to bad weather — and the lack of cooperation on the part of the Umpire’s Union.” 

Reporter: “Lack of cooperation?” 

B.S. “Yes, the Umpire’s haven’t quite adjusted to the new realities of competition. Once they make the proper adjustments to the strike zone, I have every confidence that we will be fully compatible run-wise with others in our segment of the league.” 

tilt shift photography of a baseball referee

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Reporter: “I see….” 

B.S.:”Meanwhile, we’re also improving and upgrading our capital infrastructure.” 

Reporter: “You mean…the stadium?” 

B.S.”Exactly. We’re replacing the concrete with much newer high-tech polypropylene glycol embedded styrene.” 

Reporter: “Oh. Will you be replacing those hard seats?” 

B.S. “Seats? Don’t be ridiculous. That would be way too expensive.” 

Reporter: “Well, how will the stadium be different — from the fan’s perspective?” 

B.S.: “Fans? Oh, fans. It will be a much more modern, more high-tech stadium.” 

Reporter: “So, how will the actual experience of the fans be different?” 

B.S. “Did I mention that our stock price has risen 5%? Wall Street knows what’s best for baseball!” 

Reporter: “Perhaps, but according to our wire service, you lost last night to Cleveland, 26-0. That’s….” 

arena athletes audience ball

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

B.S.:”That’s a temporary aberration! I told you! The Umpires have got to get on board here. We’re only asking a proportional shrinkage in the strike zone to match our cost-containment figures. Our new policies are a success. We don’t need to be questioned by nay-sayers spouting statistics. This interview is over!” 

 

 

INTERVIEW THREE 

Reporter: “So, BS, I hear your team has surpassed the opening losing streak record of the Pittsburg….” 

BS:”Bah! Our expenses are down! Our stock price is UP!” 

Reporter: “How about the fans? How’s the attendance?” 

BS: “Attendance? It takes time for our end users to adjust to the interface changes, but they will. After all, what are they going to do, take a ride to Seattle just to watch a live ballgame?” 

Reporter: “Well — or, maybe across town.” 

BS: “Get serious. It takes less time to get to Seattle. Anyway, we have taken some of the surplus and hired some systems analysts to help us out. We should be on a winning streak in no time!” 

Reporter: “Wouldn’t it maybe make more sense to hire some — you know, outfielders, say?” 

BS: “You obviously don’t know anything about business. That’s why they hired me. Ever hear of the expression ‘a level playing field’?” 

Reporter: “Yes, but what … ?” 

BS: “Well, we are not going to have one! Not much longer! Our system analysts have designed a system to tilt the entire stadium on command. So — in short, our ball-players will be hitting DOWNSLOPE while the opposition will be hitting UPHILL! Come on. Tell me I’m brilliant! And, we are moving the stadium to a place where the tax rate is less and the real estate is cheaper! Go ahead! Tell me I’m brilliant!”

scenic view of mountains

Photo by Elina Sazonova on Pexels.com

Reporter: “Uh, you’re brilliant, but — ah — won’t your opponents object?” 

BS: “Who cares? Our lawyers have combed the rule book and the UCC and NOWHERE does it mention anything about not tilting the earth!” 

Reporter: “Well, maybe not specifically, but surely on the basic principles of fair play….” 

BS: “Ha hah hahahahhh! Oh, you really crack me up! ‘Basic Principles of Fair Play!’ Oh, that’s rich. That’s realllllly rich. Yes. Good one. Listen, sucker, if you can get away with it, it’s what you do! Have you been asleep? Ever hear of tobacco companies? How about the Ford Pinto? Billionaire Milliken? Get real!” 

Reporter: “Still….somehow, I always thought of baseball as a sport.” 

BS: “Oh, right. And, I always thought of Howard Stern as Marilyn Monroe. Geez. Our profits will soar! Our profits will soar! Oh, so many plans. Fewer squares! Fewer innings! Fines for foul balls! Fines for run homes! Fines….” 

Reporter: “Excuse me, did you say ‘run homes’?” 

BS: “Yeah, those things — don’t you call them run homes — where the guy loses the baseball? Talk about waste!” 

Reporter: “Those are Home Runs. That’s one good way to win ball games.” 

close up photography of four baseballs on green lawn grasses

Photo by Steshka Willems on Pexels.com

BS: “Yeah, whatever. Maybe to you. To me, they are an unnecessary waste. Just like second square.” 

Reporter: “Second square? You mean, ‘second base’?” 

BS: “Whatever. That little square bag out there in the middle of the sandyfield.” 

Reporter: “Have you ever actually played baseball?” 

BS: “Me? I was too busy for frills, my friend. Too busy making my first million. And I did it through hard work and ingenuity. I did it in high school. It wasn’t easy either. Do you know how many of those little first grade brats you have to shake down for lunch money just to get a thousand bucks?” 

toddler with red adidas sweat shirt

Photo by mohamed Abdelgaffar on Pexels.com

 

Author Page on Amazon

Donnie Plays Bull-Dazzle Man

Donnie Learns Golf! 

Donnie Plays Doctor Man!

Donnie Plays Soldier!

Donnie Visits Granny!

Donnie Gets a Hamster!

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Truth Train

Winning by Cheating is Losing

Trumpism is a New Religion

 

 

Myths of the Veritas: Inversnaid Revisited

06 Friday Mar 2020

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Cupiditas, death, ego, greed, legends, life, myth, Resistance, stubbornness, truth, Veritas

animal bee bloom blooming

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Trunk of Tree led the small group through the fields of wildflowers buzzing with bees and up the  grassy foothills that marked the edge of the lands the Veritas considered as home. Jaccim and Cat Eyes came next, each leading a pack horse. Cat Eyes discovered that she had a fondness for horses and, oddly enough, for Jaccim himself. Each day of the journey, Jaccim became more familiar with the Veritas language, thanks to tutoring by Cat Eyes. She spoke with Jaccim partly to learn more of his people, but this proved difficult. Jaccim had memorized a few verses that the Z-Lotz had insisted everyone learn, but he could not explain what the verses meant. 

In fact, Jaccim knew almost nothing about the history of his own people, nor how they came to be aligned with the Z-Lotz. Cat Eyes discovered that Jaccim had learned how to handle horses from his own father and uncle. He had ridden from an early age and had taken part in a number of different raids when he was younger — raids to steal children for the Z-Lotz. To her astonishment, Cat Eyes learned that Jaccim had never asked himself why they had been stealing children, or what was to become of the children once they were delivered to the Z-Lotz let alone how these cruel predations ravaged the children or their families. It was just what he was told to do so he did it. Cat Eyes sighed and shook her head. She considered trying to give some insight to Jaccim about what her life had been like but decided this was not the time. They were relying on Jaccim to find a path through to her homeland. If she were successful in having Jaccim see and feel just how reprehensible his actions had been, how might he react? She did not know; but she didn’t want to chance his bolting with the horses, which could have been one possible reaction. 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Sometimes, Jaccim was silent for long periods of time. Sometimes, Jaccim asked Trunk of Tree to stop for a moment. Jaccim would close his eyes, apparently in some sort of inner dialogue with himself. Then, he would open them and scan their surroundings. Then, he would point and nod. Trunk of Tree would continue down the path chosen. When Cat Eyes grew tired of her tutoring, she would drop back a few paces to chat with Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah. She had learned a few words of the language of the Nomads of the South when she was in the City of the Z-Lotz, but she was learning much more from them. In particular, she asked about various kinds of plants, animals, and physical features that she saw. When she learned a new word, she would store it in her head. She began to notice as the journey wore on that the words of the Nomads and the words of the Veritas and the words of the ROI and Z-Lotz, while all different, were not so different as they might have been. 

in distant photo of tree on landscape field

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At one point, their small group rested under a large, spreading oak which dominated a long slope of golden grass. Called “oak” in Veritas, the Z-Lotz word was “oag” and the Southern Nomads called it “oh-kah.” At first, Jaccim only referred to the tree in terms of the ROI expression: “hard to work wood tree”, but at last, he recalled that some called it “oat-tah.” While Cat Eyes carried on her linguistic queries, the rest of the group began to prepare a lunch. Jaccim tethered the horses to a low hanging branch. Fleet-of-Foot, who had been mainly walking with Easy Tears, jumped up and grabbed a branch, pulled himself up, and soon clambered to the crown. From here, hidden in the thick summer foliage, he peered around in all directions. He also cupped his hands around his ears while spreading his ears out slightly. Thus able to hear much fainter sounds, he slowly turned his head, listening as well as watching for any possible armies, game, or … what was that sound? As he turned toward the still-distant Twin Peaks, he heard a slight sound of … rushing water? It seemed to be coming from the nearby foothills. These hills were similar to the ones they had just left, but grew steeper and larger. Somewhere in those hills, fresh running water gurgled over rocks and sang its song loudly enough for him to hear from his high perch. Convinced that they were in no immediate danger, he climbed down to have his share of the lunch and told the group of his discovery. 

The next morning, after they climbed the top of a hill, they could all hear the roar of water and soon, they could see the sun glinting off the rushing water in the distance. Jaccim confirmed that long ago, the raiding party had also found this stream. It took most of the day to reach the water. The “stream” that Jaccim had mentioned was more properly called a river now. Cat Eyes pointed to the high peaks before them and, they were able to see tiny threads of silver cascading down the sides of the mountains. Some of that distant water would eventually find its way into this river, she reckoned. They refilled their water skins. As they sat around their small evening campfire telling their stories and making their plans, they were treated to a distant show of lighting and a reverberating thunder. The horses, despite being tethered near the coolly flowing water, paced nervously and nickered. 

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Trunk of Tree, who had grown weary of stories and plans at last said, “Let’s get to sleep. I’ll take the first watch. Then, Lion Slayer. Then, Fleet of Foot. We leave early in the morning.”

Jaccim shook his head, “We’re all tired. We have a long journey tomorrow. Many days after. We must move away from the river.” 

Trunk of Tree grunted. “Absurd. I’m in charge. This is a perfect spot. The horses can drink their fill. We cannot easily be seen. There is game. Sleep now. Walk in the morning.” 

Cat Eyes glanced at Jaccim. He was frowning. His mouth moved but no words came. She asked in ROI, “Why should we move, Jaccim.” 

Jaccim spoke quickly in ROI and supplemented his speech with sign language. “The rain on the mountain will melt more ice and bring much water. This water — or much of it — will come riding down the mountain like a herd of horses or buffalo and trample everything beneath it. We must move to higher ground or be trampled.” 

Cat Eyes translated for the group. 

Trunk of Tree held up his hand part-way through. “Absurd. No. We are safe here.” 

Cat Eyes could see that Trunk of Tree was “digging in” and ignoring the ideas of others. He was the sort of person, she saw, who found it particularly difficult to “change his mind” once he had made a decision. She shook her head and closed her eyes so that Trunk of Tree could not see her rolling them in disgust at his intransigence. 

Cat Eyes spoke in her softest, most enticing voice. “Trunk of Tree. You are our leader. I have no idea whether there is danger here. How can we know? But I do know something of the power of water. When we escaped from the war party that came to the burned village of the ROI, we rode hollowed logs. We almost went over a cliff but, thanks to luck, and Jaccim’s quick thinking, we were able to get to shore just in time. The logs were big, but when they went over the water cliff, those logs smashed onto rocks below as easily as I can break a twig — or, Trunk of Tree, in your case, as easily as you can break a large branch.” 

Trunk of Tree shook his head again. He looked at Lion Slayer. “Have you ever seen or heard of such a sudden river coming?” 

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Lion Slayer answered, “I have not seen such. We have too little water. In my life, I have never seen too much. But we do have stories about such. Too much water comes too quickly and kills plants, animals, and even strong trees, stout in trunk, have fallen, according to the stories. But no, I have not seen such myself.” 

“But I have. And, so too have you seen this, Trunk of Tree, or at least the aftermath.” It was the quiet clear voice of Easy Tears.

Trunk of Tree frowned at her. “What are you talking about?” 

Easy Tears smiled in the fading campfire light. “I am talking about the Battle of the Three Paths. Eagle Eyes devised a way to make much water come at once and washed away quite a few of the Cupiditas warriors. Some of the Veritas may have forgotten. Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah were not there, but you might remember, Trunk of Tree. Do you?” 

Trunk of Tree considered. “Maybe something. I was busy fighting. Perhaps. But I doubt it could have actually toppled the warriors. Not if they were strong.” 

Fleet of Foot nodded, “I saw it with my own eyes. It was something I will never forget. One minute a throng of Cupiditas soldiers were running across a shallow stream and suddenly the whole lot of them were knocked off their feet and taken away from us. Listen!” Fleet of Foot pointed upstream. The others turned and listened. In the quiet, they heard the horses whinnying but also stomping the ground and jerking at their tethers. 

Jaccim added, “Horses know danger. Horses know danger. Good ears!”  

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Cat Eyes cupped her hands behind her ears. “NOW! Move!” 

Trunk of Tree stood and threw his arms in the air and shouted, “This is ridiculous! Absurd! It’s only water! I don’t hear anything!” 

The others grabbed what they could and scrambled to higher ground. Jaccim however, went first to the horses, untied them and swung his leg up around one of them and grabbed hold of the other by the rope that necklaced the neck of the other. 

The voice of Cat Eyes rang out, “Trunk of Tree! Come! We need you to lead us! Don’t get swept away like the Stupiditas!” 

“I’m staying right here! You are all fools! I don’t….” 

The group had all climbed a nearby hill but there was no sign of Jaccim, Trunk of Tree, or the horses. Now, everyone could hear the roaring water bearing down on their location. Jaccim rode up astride the largest horse, still carrying water skins. He led another horse and across the back of that horse, Trunk of Tree lay senseless. 

Jaccim looked at Cat Eyes and shouted in ROI to be heard above the roar. “Sorry. I had to knock him out. For his own good. Will he try to kill me when he wakes?”  

Everyone now looked down at the valley right below them. In the dim light of the moon they could see, not a river, but a wall galloping down the valley. It was a wall not just of water but of ice and logs and mud and rocks as well! It destroyed everything in its path. 

Cat Eyes screamed back, “I won’t let him!” But she could barely hear her own voice. She wasn’t sure Jaccim could make out what she was saying. She used sign language to emphasize her promise of protection, but no-one was watching. All stared down below, mesmerized by the chaos beneath them. The riverbed swelled. The wall of water passed them and became a mere churning sea of blackish brown water swirling in the moonlight. 

Cat Eyes slowly shook her head and gritted her teeth. Trunk of Tree, their supposed “leader” of this expedition had almost gotten the whole lot of them killed. And why, she wondered. The answer came to her unbidden. His pride, she thought. His stupid pride. He made up his mind without knowing the facts. Then, when he heard the facts, he refused to listen. As though his ignorance was somehow better than facts. And that ignorance and vainglorious vanity had almost destroyed all of them and instead of connecting with her people, his stupidity has nearly cost them … the Veritas might not have ever found out what had happened to them. She might never have seen Tu-Swift or Many Paths ever again. And the Veritas would have to face the Z-Lotz with seven fewer warriors and without the horses and without the knowledge to be gained by connected with the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. 

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She considered killing Trunk of Tree herself. It would be easy enough to do while he was unconscious. She knew exactly where to press hard on his neck. It had worked on one of her worst tormentors in the Z-Lotz village. She had gotten away with that because that monster, known as M-M-M, was old and terribly fat and unfit. Everyone had dismissed his death as natural. She had left no marks on his body. And she had even pretended to grieve for him … as though she had been desirous of the attentions of that cruel monster man. But no-one would believe someone as strong and fit and young as Trunk of Tree died in his sleep. If anything, they would blame Jaccim for hitting him too hard on the head in order to knock him out. It would be seen as accidental but — they were arguing right before. Too risky, perhaps. But how else to take down a leader who nearly led his own expedition to death for no reason, other than his own stupid pride at being unwilling to admit his own ignorance? Disgusting. 

Trunk of Tree’s idea of “leadership” was to impose his will on others. Wasn’t that exactly the same as old M-M-M — imposing his will on her? His pleasure had seemed to come, not from the sex itself really, but from making her engage in sex against her own will. She saw Trunk of Tree as nothing more than a younger version of M-M-M and she desperately wanted to kill him in his sleep. Once he awoke, it would be much more dangerous. But it was also dangerous to let him stay their leader. Why had Many Paths even chosen him to “lead” this expedition. She must have known what kind of a person he was. Leader! Hah! 

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

Inversnaid (by Gerald Manly Hopkins)

 

The Pie of Life

24 Monday Feb 2020

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

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Business, capitalism, Democracy, ethics, fairness, life, marketing, socialism

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There isn’t just the one pie, of course. A decent bakery will have quite a variety. Pecan pie, warm, with some vanilla ice cream — the warmth and richness of the pie while the creaminess of the melting ice cream! Key Lime pie — sweet, sour, and a hint of exotic bitterness. Chocolate cream pie — is it really more of a candy or a pie? On occasion, I’ve made pies from scratch that are filled with freshly picked blackberries or raspberries. If you’ve never had one fresh out of the oven — barely cool enough to eat — you should really treat yourself. The same goes for apple and cherry pie!

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Most people in their daily lives are generous. They find it’s more fun to share a wonderful pie than secretly steal every piece for themselves. Most people you know and most people I know realize that in order to get anything significant done, they have to work with other people. And, while I, like many people, love to play competitive games and sports, all of life is not a competitive sport. It isn’t about taking the most pie you can regardless of consequences.  

In a zero-sum game, we imagine that there is only one pie. We have to split it and if you get more, I get less. 

But is everything in life like that? Is anything in life really like that? Even competitive sports like tennis where one person or team wins and the other loses is not truly a zero sum game. There is the benefit of fitness and improving your game and the sheer joy of playing. And most of life is like that — including pies. When we think about how to split the pie, we may want to consider other things such as: 

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How did the pie get there? What is the proper share for the people who grew the wheat? The miller who ground the flour? The truck driver who drove the flour truck to the store? How about the grocery clerk? The bagger? The person who cooked the pie? How about the person who tinkered around until she or he developed an excellent recipe? How about the people who had lived for thousands of years with the cinnamon trees and then had their villages and way of life destroyed so that the cinnamon trees could all be cut down? How about the people who cut the sugar cane? How about the policeman who protects the pie and the fireman who comes to save the bakery if it catches fire? How much should they all get? 

Trying to “determine the fair share” by measuring everything and “calculating” it by formula would be endlessly tedious. The inefficiency and waste and lack of innovation in the former Soviet Union demonstrated the futility of detailed central planning. In many places, society has developed a system of exchange based on money. The idea is to let the market “decide.” 

That system only works when people have approximately equal power and when they have equal justice under the law. When capitalism is combined with unequal justice, it quickly devolves into tyranny. Owners of corporations can get almost all of the pie for themselves and leave only enough crumbs for the workers to barely stay alive and eke out a living. To the extent that workers can be replaced by robots, it isn’t even necessary to give workers crumbs. 

Suppose your young child is deathly ill with pneumonia and needs penicillin. Suppose I am the only pharmacy in town and the roads are closed so that the only way for you to get the necessary penicillin is through me. As the pharmacist, I may have paid all of one thin dime for the medicine you need. But, assuming you love your child as much as most parents do, I can charge virtually any price. Any price. Think of that. I can not only gain your car, your house, and every dime you own. I can also make you an indebted servant. 

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Imagine a world in which there are many employers and many workers. Each worker has many possible jobs they could do and every company has a choice among many workers. In such a system, there is some balance of power. An employer who pays low wages or who provides bad working conditions will find themselves without enough workers to get the work done and go out of business. Similarly, a worker who goofs off or insists on very high wages will not be hired. But do we have a balance like that? In a land of many small companies and many small family farms, there is some balance. But today? In many cases, there are a small number of very large corporations who together hold almost all the power. 

If, in addition to the imbalance of workers versus owners, the rich owners have now bought much of the government. Legislation to protect workers and consumers is not even being brought to a vote in the Senate. The Trumputin administration is rolling back food safety regulations, air pollution regulations, water pollution regulations, and healthcare. The justice department and the US intelligence agencies — who used to be filled with nonpartisan experts — are being destroyed from within. Ultimately, it means that every penny of wealth created by workers can be stolen by the richest and most powerful people in the country. Even now, some of the richest corporations and people pay zero taxes.

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Many of the corporations don’t really have competitors. They spend money on lobbying and advertising. They don’t want to spend money on innovation and invention because that changes the nature of the game and so — they could potentially lose their monopoly power. In other words, none of these people are spending much resource on inventing new types of pies. They are protecting the rules that give most of the pie to them. Similarly, companies buy start-ups of potentially disruptive innovations, not in order to integrate inventions into their product lines but to prevent those start-ups from becoming competitors. 

Since most of us in America will soon be paying our tax bill, it might be time to consider this:

If you work two full time jobs in America, you can barely make ends meet and you will pay taxes on your earned income — not a lot — but more than some billionaires. If you are a highly talented writer, actor, consultant, scientist, and you work 80 hours a week, you might earn $200,000 a year and you will pay a lot of taxes on that money. On the other hand, let’s suppose that you inherited $10,000,000 and you invest $4,000,000 in the stock market. You will easily make $200,000 a year on that money while doing nothing for the whole year. You can spend your time watching TV, playing golf, or dressing up lizards. But your tax rate on the $200,000 you got for nothing except being born rich will be less than the talented person who works full time. 

How we divide up the pie makes a big difference. And we are becoming less and less fair about that and — perhaps even worse — we are no longer putting as much resource into growing the pie and inventing new types of pies. Meritocracy is being replaced with cronyism and a “might makes right” mentality. 

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While competition is a part of life, it is not the whole of life. Life cooperates with other life all the time and at every level. In our bodies, if we are healthy, the cells of every organ work together to promote life for the whole. In cancer, a few cells decide to suck all the resources into themselves. And — that’s what happening here in America. 

How’s it going where you are?  

Do you invent new kinds of pies? Do you help improve the recipes? Do you get a fair share? Or, do you find yourself fighting all day just to get a very little bit of a very large pie? 

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Many Shiny Things

13 Thursday Feb 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, family, management, politics, Uncategorized

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leadership, legends, myths, peace, stories, tales, truth, war, weapons

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The days continued to grow longer. The herbs and dyes had been collected and prepared. Masks had been constructed for everyone in the tribe old enough to talk and walk. Many Paths, after consulting with everyone, had decided that all of the Veritas, and not just the young adults would be initiated into the ways of the warrior. Although kids had sometimes imitated the actions of their older brothers and sisters and engaged in mock combat, now the Veritas faced an enemy who stole children. If such children were snatched, it was important that they be able to fight, in order to delay capture, and to maim or injure the attackers. They must also be able to lie in wait patiently and be able to strike after capture; to see when the opportunity arose; and then to strike in such a way that they had little chance of being blamed. 

Jaccim had confirmed that the Z-Lotz greatly preferred to steal children. Kids could be trained early to be docile slaves. Occasionally, attractive full-grown women would be stolen as well but they tended to be less docile and therefore less desirable to the Z-Lotz. Many Paths had already performed the molting ritual on Tu-Swift and he had worked with Sooz and Cat Eyes to teach the youngsters of the tribe to fight. This training had been mostly about perception and reaction. Now, the training would turn more serious and young children were about to be taught about weapons, hand combat, and about poisons and imagination. 

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Many Paths wanted the children to be initiated and wear make up and masks so that when and if the Veritas found themselves once more at peace, they could remove these masks and make up and that removal of the outward trappings of war would hopefully help also remove the killing mindset that she meant to inculcate into everyone in the tribe. 

A great feast of wild boar, honeyed grain-cakes, roasted nuts, and boiled cattail had been laid out in the late afternoon. After the feast, the Veritas came to Many Paths one by one, oldest to youngest and stood before her. She handed each one a mask and anointed each with two dark marks of charcoal on their cheeks. The masks resembled various animals and were worn on the back of the head or, more rarely, on the side of the head. They were not meant to disguise the person’s face. Instead, the masks were intended to confuse the enemy about the orientation of the Veritas warrior so that killing blows would tend to arise from unsuspected places. 

The Veritas came to her in order from oldest to youngest. Though Many Paths followed tradition in this, she could see the wisdom of that tradition. The youngest would have seen many models of how to behave from the elders and then the adults and then their older brothers and sisters. She felt and displayed a fittingly somber mood for the business at hand weighed heavily upon her. And though she intoned the ritual words with feeling, at the same time, half of her mind began to mull on the situation that required turning the people to killing. She heartily wished that the world had not turned so ugly and warlike. Yet, those wishes had no impact on reality. Many Paths did promise herself that she would continue to remind people of the lessons learned from The Battle of the Three Paths. 

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In that battle, NUT-PI had arranged three armies to fight against the Veritas. Two of those armies had instead become friends. Peace proved to be a very strong weapon. Many Paths would come to caution the Veritas not to become so enamored of weapons that they overlooked the possible paths to peace. Though she believed this, Many Paths also recognized that the alliances between the Cupiditas and the Nomads of the South and between the Cupiditas and the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North were both tenuous and temporary. They did not have a preponderance of true common interests. This had made rational dialogue possible. The “loyalty” of these tribes to NUT-PI was nothing more than a temporary convenience, fairly easily overcome by showing them the lies of NUT-PI and a path to a more permanent self-interest. Also, no blood had yet been spilled. Once blood had been spilled on both sides, talk of peace could easily be shouted out by the drums of war that banged in the heart of every warrior amplified by sorrow, fear, and anger. Many Paths reminded herself that she needed to have a frank talk with Lion Slayer about whether any from among the Nomads of the South would choose to fight with the Veritas. 

She decided to wait a few more days for such a conversation and to include his mate, Hudah Salah, as well. When they had first arrived to spend a year with the Veritas, she had seemed unwilling to say much and agreed with her husband on every point. Something had changed however. Many Paths thought there were three reasons. First, she had become much more familiar with the Veritas language. Second, she had many actual friends now among the Veritas. When she arrived, she only knew her husband, Fleet of Foot and Eagle Eyes. Now, she knew everyone in the tribe and everyone knew her. Third, the great fire had separated her for a time from her husband and she had to survive without him, without knowing whether he was alive or dead. Many Paths judged that his deepened their love but also grew her independence. Many Paths also thought that Lion Slayer would be more likely to imagine everyone among the Nomads of the South would feel however he felt. Hudah Salah, would be more in tune with the heart of the entire tribe. She would not unthinkingly imagine that all of them would be as eager or reluctant to join in a lethal fight as she herself was. 

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The “coming to war” ritual ended with a long, energetic dance. This served to burn off some of the nervous energy that naturally arose from everyone in the tribe preparing for war. It also served to remind each person among the Veritas that they were part of a larger whole. Everyone participated including Many Paths and She Who Saves Many Lives. Though the latter was not so quick as she had once been, she moved with a grace and beauty that caused many in the tribe to smile. Long energetic dances also served as a training for long marches or fierce battles. Everyone took note of everyone else so they came to expect the tempo and style of everyone else in the tribe. This, Many Paths realized, could be quite helpful in coordinated group action. Everyone could see, for example, that Shadow Walker’s ankle was completely healed while Tu-Swift had still not recovered his former speed. A lot of information was exchanged about individuals at the same time that each individual felt more integrated into the whole. It occurred to Many Paths that some such a dance should be repeated with whomever joined in the Veritas endeavor, whether the Veritas who lived beyond the Twin Mountains or the Nomads of the South. The dance also tended to physically exhaust everyone and, as a steady wind bends the long grass, it would bend everyone toward much needed sleep rather than useless worry. 

The next day began bright and clear. She met early with Tu-Swift, Eagle Eyes, Cat Eyes, Sooz, and Shadow Walker. She began by describing her experiment with reflections that had caused a twig to burst into flames. Using the Rings of Empathy and many pieces of mica, she arranged the reflections so that they all focused on a small dried twig. Again, it seemed as though nothing was happening when suddenly the twig burst into flames. Salah Hudah had been weaving nearby, not participating in the conversation. But when she saw the twig burst into flames, she exclaimed something aloud in her native tongue. She walked over to the group and spoke in Veritas nearly as well as those who were born Veritas might. 

“These things,” she gestured around at the rings and mica, “are all shiny. Very shiny. We have in our land some shiny things as well. There is a shiny black stone which can be polished so much that you can see yourself as if looking in a clear, calm, lake. We call it ‘OB-ESS-DIAN.” And, there is another thing on the edge of the deep desert lands where no-one goes. It is also shiny. Very shiny. We polish it. We shape it. But it is evil. We call it GLAZ. Those who touch it get burned. We only discovered a few winters ago. We thought to make jewelry or … a kind of pond to look at yourself. I think it could be useful weapon this way too. But dangerous. It burns the hands as though you were too long in the sun. But it is not hot.”  

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Many Paths thanked Salah Hudah and contemplated once again how much better it was to have made friends with the Nomads of the South rather than fighting them. She vowed to try to find such a way even with the People Who Steal Children. But such people killed with no honor. With Killing Sticks. How could peace come about? It was a puzzle: an important one, but seemingly unsolvable. 

Tu-Swift brought out his sword and moved it about. “This is very shiny too. As is Shadow Walker’s. I think…here’s let’s try making both of them shine onto a twig.” Shadow Walker worked with Tu-Swift and they reflected the sunbeams from their sword onto another dry twig. It did not burst into flames. They waited. At last, Cat Eyes stretched forth her hand and gingerly touched the twig.

“It’s warmer than just the sun would do, but not warm enough to burst into flame. But something else might work very well. In the village of the Z-Lotz, many of the richest families have such a portable pond looker as Salah Hudah described. But no-one I heard of got burned from it. So, perhaps it is made of something different. I don’t know.” 

“Thank you, Cat Eyes. How many of these portable lookers are there in the whole of the  Z-Lotz village?” 

Cat Eyes sighed. “I was there as a slave. So, I was unable to go wherever I liked. There are many people. Sometimes, I visited other houses. All of them had such things. But I seldom went to small houses. I would say, these many. But I really don’t know.” Cat Eyes held up both hands ten times; each time, all fingers were splayed out. “One hundred.” 

Many Paths nodded. “One hundred. Yet, so few as ten pieces of mica, and seven shiny stones can make a dry piece of wood burst into flame. Imagine what one hundred shiny things might do if all the many paths of light come together at one time and place.” 

Shadow Walker said, “That, I think, would be very hot indeed. However, we don’t own those possible weapons. I don’t see how we can get them. But what of the shiny things of the Nomads of the South? How many of those are there, Salah?” 

“Of the black OB-ESS-DIAN, there are many. Ten times ten. Of the clear ones… there may be one or two, but to my knowledge, once people realized they caused burns, no-one wanted them. People gave them back to the deep desert.”

The group thought about that for a time. Presently, Tu-Swift said, “I don’t understand. Why don’t they just use a long handle or many layers of cloth to protect their hands? Surely, you tried this, Salah?” 

“Tu-Swift, you speak true. People did try this. We sometimes make even stones by hardening mud in fire. They become quite hard. But when they are first made by such hot fire, the stones themselves are too hot to touch. However, we take them out of the oven with large mittens made of many layers. People’s hands do not get burned. But there is something different about GLAZ. Many layers of cloth do not prevent burns though the GLAZ is not itself hot! It seems magic but evil. That’s why we returned it to the deep desert where no-one goes.”  

Cat Eyes began to speak. “Fire ants feel like burning when they bite you. But they are not themselves hot. Their tiny side teeth pierce your skin. Perhaps such ants are made of the same stuff as the GLAZ at the edge of the desert.”

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Salah Hudah nodded. “Perhaps. We know also of these fire ants. They sting. They feel hot. But people recover. The burns of GLAZ do not get better. More moons, more pain. They are something from a world of evil. I think the people, my people,…maybe they lend you or trade you for OB-ESS-DIAN. But all this to set a fire? Isn’t it easier to use fire arrows?” 

Shadow Walker spoke next. “We should not forget what happened to the ROI. They used fire arrows against us twice. The first time, they surprised us. It helped them steal Tu-Swift. But the second time, they tried to destroy us, and they succeeded in destroying their own village and many of their people. According to Jaccim, the ROI were led by a cruel lying leader, and then, so far as we can tell, he was killed himself. I don’t much like fire arrows. But it’s better to use them than to become enslaved.” 

Tu-swift added thoughtfully, “Perhaps we can get the Z-Lotz themselves to destroy their leader. He seems very cruel.” 

Cat Eyes scrunched her face up and chewed her lips. “Perhaps. The people I stayed with, the richest among the Z-Lotz privately scoffed at NUT-PI — just as they did about their beliefs — but, because they are rich, they like having NUT-PI as a leader, if you can call him that. No doubt, there are man people in the village of the Z-Lotz who would like to have NUT-PI gone, but I’m not sure they are prosperous enough to have — I think they are called ‘looking glasses.’ Does that make sense? I think only the rich people like them.”

Many Paths nodded. “I’m not sure. If it is as you say, then the rich would have to have very good reason to use this weapon of many looking glasses against NUT-PI. But there could be other ways to bring many weapons to bear through many paths. For instance, arrows, even if not fire arrows, could be fired from many directions at once. Rocks could be thrown from many directions. Small amounts of many poisons might be given. And, maybe we could use mica and jewels to make many reflections to heat up … to heat up a Killing Stick until it catches fire. Or, perhaps, we could even use the killing GLAZ. If NUT-PI thought it was very rare, and very precious, he might desire much of it. If he surrounds himself with such GLAZ, he might get quite sick and not know why.” 

Eagle Eyes had been fairly silent and now began to draw a map of sorts in the dirt. “All of these weapons we are discussing converge from many paths on to one place; for example, NUT-PI. But if we were to kill the Z-Lotz leader, wouldn’t they simply pick a new leader?”

Many Paths said, “It might take them some time. As I best understand it, if one of the Cupiditas kills the leader, then that person becomes the new leader. I don’t know about the Z-Lotz though. If they do the same, it might be confusing if many people at once killed the old leader. Who would get to be the new leader?” 

Cat Eyes said, “I am not sure, but I think the Z-Lotz might do something similar. It might be confusing for them if many people together killed their leader. He is a very loud screamer, but I don’t think he’s very brave. I’m not sure why I think that. Anyway, he’s not very athletic. He looks nothing like Shadow Walker or Trunk of Tree, for instance.” She smiled at Tu-Swift. “Honestly, Tu-Swift, in a fair fight, I think you could take him. But I don’t think a fair fight is of any interest to him.” 

Tu-Swift blushed. “I would love to do that if he’s behind the stealing of children.” 

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Many Paths spoke again. “We have many ideas. Which path proves most fruitful though will remain a mystery until we find out more. I think that the construction of a good weapon that will be effective depends on knowing more. We need to find out more. How are their walls constructed? Can we tunnel under them to sneak in? Can we dig under them to cause collapse? Are the walls too high to fire arrows over? Rocks? Should we attack with many? Or, should we sneak in a few? Can we steal enough of these looking glasses to make a weapon? Can we steal their killing sticks? More swords? Can we sabotage their bows and arrows as Tu-Swift did to the ROI? And, how can we use our horses? Will they join us in this fight?” 

Shadow Walker took a deep breath, “Many, I think I should go visit these Z-Lotz. Maybe I could trade with them and get some Killing Sticks in this way. We have many fine and beautiful baskets. And, Salah Hudah, do you think these shiny things that cause burns can be recovered or — ?”

Salah Hudah shook her head violently. “I don’t think you should touch them. I don’t think you’ll find them — at least not easily. Our people just wanted to get rid of them. They are covered up now with shifting of many sands. But they burn without warning. And worse. One woman who especially liked these. She was very beautiful. She had many suitors who brought her such as treasures. She paid much. She became something else. Her body began to grow like mushrooms. No longer beautiful. And, she was sick in every way. And died. That is what triggered everyone to throw them out.” 

“I should go with you,” volunteered Eagle Eyes. I can see danger before danger sees us. And I have been there before. “What of you, Cat Eyes? You know this place better than anyone else? Will you come too?” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “I will go. I like this place much better! Much better! But perhaps it would be well for me to go first to my people. Some may recognize me. I may recognize them. I can be…I can be like a pair of logs over the brook and allow others to cross. Perhaps the Veritas over the Twin Mountains will have other weapons or other knowledge. Then, we can decide what to do about the Z-Lotz. It is also possible they might leave us alone?” 

“I hope that,” said Many Paths. “Why must people steal children? But I don’t think they will leave us alone. I do not think they will leave the Nomads of the South alone either. Nor, the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North. Nor anyone who simply wants to live in peace. If I thought otherwise, we would not have all sworn to the way of the warrior. But that does not mean we must attack at once. More knowledge would be good. Let us first try to reach the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. Jaccim knows how to find a path there, so he thinks. 

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“Meanwhile, we will grow stronger and faster and learn the skills of killing in case we need such skills. We will continue to train even the smallest among us so that if any such are captured, they will be weapons; unsuspected weapons like Cat Eyes.” 

Now, Eagle Eyes spoke, “You are wise, Many Paths. I have a thought though about yet another weapon.” 

“We have trained a few from among the Wolf Pups. And, we have trained few from among the Eagles. What if … you know that I can draw a likeness of any of you and that you will know who that likeness is. Eagles have eyes even better than ours. I am wondering whether it is not possible … perhaps if I can see the Z-Lotz leader, I can teach my eagles, and more eagles besides, to attack this hateful man and pluck his eyes out. Could it be possible? I don’t know. And for Wolves the same. Except they do not see as well as do we ourselves. But each person smells different. If someone can steal some of his clothing, perhaps such pups could be trained to attack and kill something that smells of him.”

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Many Paths smiled at her friend. For the first time since she found out about the Killing Sticks, she felt confident that there was a way to prevail against such a weapon and that they would find it. And use it. “Those are excellent ideas, Eagle Eyes.” 

Everyone in the group nodded. 

Many Paths spoke again, and her voice sounded clear and confident, “I promise you, we will not rest until we find a lasting and believable peace with these Z-Lotz. Or, we will destroy their leader. If that doesn’t stop them from stealing children, we will destroy the next leader. And the next. At last, everyone shall also be destroyed and all of their Killing Sticks — until they stop stealing children.” 

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———————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

    

A Map, of Sorts

14 Tuesday Jan 2020

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

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

leadership, legends, myths, relationships, stories, truth, Veritas

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After Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift had been embraced by all of the Veritas, including Trunk of Tree, they had a chance to circle back to Many Paths, who continued to shower them with affection. Their entire party, including Cats Eyes, the ROI, and the two horses all served as sources of amazement. 

Jaccim and Tu-Swift cautioned people to stay well back from the horses. Even the colt could deliver a serious kick or bite if terror overcame them. Trunk of Tree had followed Many Paths out of the village and had greeted Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift warmly. He quickly understood that he could help by keeping people at a distance from the horses, so he did. 

The Veritas asked more questions than anyone could answer. At last, Many Paths spoke in a loud, clear bell of a voice. 

“We all rejoice in the return of our excellent comrades, Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift. We will hear their tale, as they must hear ours. Such recounting is best done from beginning to end, carefully, and not in answer to a bee swarm of questions. You all know why this is. One must plant the seed in the proper season, let it grow in the proper season; harvest in the proper season. If one is pressed to answer questions out of order, here and there, scattered like dandelion seeds blowing this way and that, one may answer so as to make a good story for the conversation, rather than answering for an accurate reconstruction. 

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“Like you, I am impatient to learn more. And, there is much to learn. But we do not want to corrupt such lessons. After our evening meal, we will hear the tale of how Tu-Swift became not so Swift and of how Shadow Walker became Shadow Limper.”

Titters of laughter broke out among her appreciative crowd.  

“But for now,” she continued, as she held aloft her hands sporting all seven Rings of Empathy, “these rings tell me that I must interrogate Shadow Walker alone for a time, concerning a private matter.” 

Many Paths took Shadow Walker’s hand and she pulled him toward her dwelling. Many of the adults in the tribe chuckled for all knew exactly what kind of “interrogation” Many Paths had in mind. The children of the tribe knew or felt that the words of Many Paths showed one meaning but something else was hidden beneath. They sensed that both from the countenance of Many Paths herself and from the reactions of the adults. What that underneath meaning was, the children, for the most part, could not guess. In any case, they were more fascinated by the odd way that the strangers spoke, the scarred face of Jaccim, by the Irises of Cats Eyes, and the sheer size of the mare. 

Many Paths had fantasized about her next meeting with Shadow Walker on multiple occasions during his absence. They all began with a sudden and violent animal coupling. That fantasy had seemed so real. But in the moment of their actual being alone and lying beside each other at last, she first wanted to drink him in through all her senses, perhaps to convince herself that they shared this here, this now, this moment, and now this moment and yet another. 

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Many Paths, both by natural bent and by training, had lived a life of conscious gratitude. She felt gratitude for the sunrise: its beautiful variety; it’s promise of a new day. She felt gratitude for being alive as she woke; and for the life all around her; for her ancestors. She felt gratitude for being able to relieve herself and for feeling the cold of the morning. She felt likewise gratitude for the sun setting and the warmth of the campfire and for its constant, random flickering. She felt gratitude for her memories and her hands and her skills. 

These were all child’s play — practice sessions, in a way — for the gratitude she felt now that he — Shadow Walker — had returned, alive and whole. Look! Here was another moment of his being real, of his being alive!

Now, they each had much to tell each other. Many Paths had not yet decided how to bring up the several instances in which Trunk of Tree had tried to undermine her authority or convince her they should join forces and “lead together.” Of course, he would have to be told, and soon, but she had to think carefully about exactly how to do that.  

“I am so happy to see you, you cannot imagine,” she began. “And so thankful you found Tu-Swift.”

“Oh, Many Paths, I can imagine because I am so glad as well.”

“Shadow, I really don’t want to spoil your memory, but at least tell me whether you are all right — and Tu-Swift. And who are these people? Did you ever find out why they steal children? How did you find Tu-Swift?” 

“I am glad to see you still have patience enough to wait,” chuckled Shadow Walker.

Many Paths laughed too. “You are right. I’m sorry. But are you both all right? And what is … never mind. All you all right?”

“At one point, we had to run flat out through smoke to escape fire. We all became separated. I turned my ankle and it’s almost healed. I think it would have been fine except that, we had to keep hiking anyway. There are so many things to tell, but anyway, Tu-Swift really hurt his knee for the same reason. But his injury — I am not sure whether he will ever heal completely. I guess we will know in time.”

“Thank you, Shadow. Maybe you could give me the outline of the journey you took and you can later relate the story in detail tonight.”

“All right, Many Paths, I shall. Of course, it would be very helpful to have a map of the region.” Shadow Walker gave her a sly smile.

Many Paths’ eyes brightened. “Oh, I have a map if that will help!” She began to rise. 

Shadow Walker put his arm out. “No, no. Your map won’t do. We went beyond your map. But I just need something to frame my story. It doesn’t need to be detailed. This will do for my map.” As he said the word ‘this’ he motioned to the body of Many Paths. 

Shadow Walker began to tell his tale: how they had all been together and following a trail that was as loud as a thunderstorm. He described the strange door that they had come to, made of something cold, hard and smooth. (He unclasped her belt and slid it aside to dramatize the moment). 

He described how they had rescued Tu-Swift and how he had helped with his own rescue by damaging the weapons of the ROI. He recounted how they had been attacked with fire arrows. (And, he illustrated this by a rain of his fingers landing very gently over her body and sliding away downhill like raindrops or tongues of fire). 

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And he told how that fire had split apart their party. (He gently parted her lips with his own to illustrate the point more vividly). 

He showed her how the flames spread over the hillside and engulfed the ROI village. (Because it was important for the Leader of the Veritas to remember this, he illustrated by rubbing his hands together to warm them and showed her how flames may climb gently but sometimes land on another spot to make a fire).

He spoke of his running headlong to escape the flames uphill and downhill. (He demonstrated by gently tracing the contours of her body). 

He told of his indecision when he woke up all alone about where to go next.  

Many Paths sighed and said softly but firmly, “I know exactly where you should go next.”

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—————————————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

An Essay on Gratitude

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

Table of Contents: Myths of the Veritas (2)

04 Saturday Jan 2020

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

≈ 46 Comments

Tags

empathy, ethics, leadership, legend, mercy, myth, peace, story, tale, war

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Happy New Year!

Book Two of The Myths of the Veritas began on February 27th, 2019 and ended with the last post on December 31, 2019. Below is an index to all the chapters of Book Two.

Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire (At a feast, the Veritas are attacked by the ROI who used fire arrows.)

On Horses?   (The Veritas discover that Tu-Swift,  the younger brother of Many Paths, is kidnapped by “The People who Stand on Horses” – that is, the ROI Tribe.)

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Myths of the Veritas: The ROI (Introduction to the ROI Tribe).

Myths of the Veritas: The Z-Lotz  (Introduction to the Z-Lotz tribe).

Tu-Swift in a Cage (This chapter depicts the imprisonment of Tu-Swift.

Many Paths Constructs her Way (Many Paths struggles with her duties as a leader of all the Veritas and her duties as the older brother of Tu–Swift).

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths Becomes Clear (Many Paths, in consultation with others, determines to send a search party).

The Horse Whisperer (Tu-Swift is pressed into service training horses).

Search Party. (The adventures of the small search party sent to find Tu-Swift).

Dialogue and Discovery. (Many Paths leads a dialogue of discovery to reflect on what everyone collectively knows and what more they have yet to know).

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Original art by Pierce Morgan

The Bonds of Horses and Humans. (Tu-Swift learns more about horses).

The No-Rock Rock and the No-Door Door. (Shadow Walker & the Search Party are Stymied by a seemingly impossible door).

The Alliance of the ROI & the Z-Lotz. (Background on the relation of the ROI & Z-Lotz tribes).

Trees Die at the Edges. (Tu-Swift reconnoiters his surroundings).

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

The Drums of Hooves, Humans, & Hearts. (The Search Party Follows the Easy-to-Track Trail of the ROI).

The Path not Taken. (Many Paths Receives an Unwelcome Offer).

Tu-Swift’s Dream (Tu-Swift’s Dream)

Unstrung Bow (Tu-Swift Manages to Disable some of the Bows of the ROI).

Fire Arrows (The Search Party is Attacked by the ROI using Fire Arrows).

Finger-Pointing (The ROI Ask themselves who is to Blame).

Post-Fire Blues (The ROI React to their Situation).

Too Many Tu-Swifts (Another Dream of Tu-Swift’s)

BRA-BRILL’s Audience (BRA-BRILL finds trouble with NUT-PI).

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Drawing by Pierce Morgan

Slow Tu-Swift (Tu-Swift is injured)

The Ashes of ROI 

Shadow Walker’s Shadow Walking (Shadow Walker returns to the Camp of the ROI alone)

Eagle Eyes Eyes an Eagle (After the Search Party becomes Separated, Eagle Eyes Spots one of the Eagles she Trained).

Tu-Swift’s Vengeance (Tu-Swift has the Opportunity for Vengeance on his Captors).

The Doors of Mystery (Some of the Search Party Return to the Odd Door Encountered Earlier).

Many Pains for Many Paths (Further Attempts to Undermine the Leadership of Many Paths)

Myths of the Veritas: Killing Sticks (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Witness Killings at the Great City of the Z-Lotz)

The Eyes of the Cat (Shadow Walker & Tu-Swift Meet some of the ROI)

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Cats Eyes Shows her Gift (Cats Eyes Shares a Gift).

Tu-Swift Dreams of Drums (… and the Dream is Real!)

A Wild Ride (In a Log Flume)

Is there Honor in Killing Sticks? (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Dialog about what they have seen).

The Illness that’s Everywhere (She Who Saves Many Lives shares with Many Paths).

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When Eagles Return (Many Paths Receives a Message from Eagle Eyes)

A Small Snippet of Cloth  (Many Paths Learns much from a Small Snippet of Cloth)

The Truth about Clouds and Gods (Eagle Eyes & Lion Slayer Continue their Homeward Journey)

Lion Slayer & Eagle Eyes Return (They continue their journey to the Center Place of the Veritas)

Mapping Out the Road Home (Shadow Walker, Tu-Swift and others Seek the Veritas)

Solomon’s Seal (Cat Eyes Prepares a Meal on the Journey)

Eagle Eyes Returns (At last, Many Path’s friend Eagle Eyes, along with Lion Slayer, return)

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Eagle Eyes Tells her Tale (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Recount their Witness of Killing Sticks).

Killing Sticks Dialogue (The Veritas Dialogue about Killing Sticks)

Skipping Stones (Trunk of Tree Confronts Many Paths; Shadow Walker & Tu-Swift Return; End of Book Two).

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Author Page on Amazon

Dialog: Killing Sticks

29 Sunday Dec 2019

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

civility, debate, dialogue, discussion, legends, myth, peace, Second Amendment, story, tales, war, weapons

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Original art by Pierce Morgan

As was traditional among the Veritas, before beginning the delving into such a troublesome topic as how to make sense of killing sticks, they sang their songs of the origins of the Veritas. They sang a song about their daily life and another about the dangers of greed and lying (taken from their story, “The Orange Man.”) Lastly, the ended with a song about the forgotten fields. 

These elements were traditional, but Many Paths opted to push their common ground even further because she knew this could be a very divisive topic. She intuited this partly from overhearing snippets of conversations as she passed by. She saw the puzzlement and concern on everyone’s face now. And, she reckoned that the idea of a weapon that kills so quickly quite reasonably caused much anxiety. When people were anxious they often shied away from the truth and from exploring many paths before running down one. She didn’t expect everyone to think of as many branches as she did, but she hoped they wouldn’t sprint thoughtlessly down the first path they spied. 

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“If you will indulge me, I would like us to recount for a few moments, our successes in the Battle of the Three Forks. I do this for two reasons. I recount this victory because it will remind us of our ability to work together and our creativity because in that battle, we used many weapons that some among us invented. Eagle Eyes, as you may recall, invented the slippery slope after watching the ant lion; she also trained the Eagle to protect her and found a way to divert the river. And what was our greatest weapon of all?” 

“Arrows well-aimed.” someone shouted. 

“Well, those are vital and we have some exceptionally good archers here.” In the mental screen of Many Paths, the image of Shadow Walker drawing a bow sprang to mind. She missed him all the time in the form of a dull ache, but seeing him so vividly in her mind’s eye sharpened the pain as a hot pepper may do to a toothache. She drew a curtain over that image and continued. “I suspect our greatest weapons were being patient and trying to understand our enemies. As a result, two of those so-called enemies were not even actual enemies. In the case of the Nomads of the South, we have formed friendships and exchanged goods to both of our benefits. I recount this tale because it is natural to fear a new weapon that we do not understand. It is wise to dialogue this. Let us do so thinking with our whole brain. Do not become panicked. We have long survived and we will survive long after. So — open your hearts and open your minds. What do we make of these killing sticks?” 

Trunk of Tree, being Trunk of Tree, immediately took a stand against the legitimacy of the question. “Before we go any further, I’d like to say our first step should be to verify this rather preposterous story with another witness.” 

“You do have another witness,” said Lion Slayer. “Me. I was there as well. We both saw and heard the same things. We surely were not struck by the same hallucination at the same time.”

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“There might be many ways for an illusion to occur. I do not fault you, but I am willing to lead another expedition to observe — and even steal this killing stick.” 

Lion Slayer slowly shook his head. “ I do agree, that it would be good to find out more, but it will take at least a week. And, once you are there…it is huge beyond your imaginings. In fact, we would have been captured several times except that, Eagle Eyes really is just that. But there are at least 100 times as many people there as we have Veritas. We saw what we saw and we came back here without being seen or caught. 

Eagle Eyes spoke up, “Lion Slayer’s right.” If you went back again to get an unnecessary verification, that person could be caught. That is not only a danger to the brave persons who would attempt to witness another such use; it is a danger to the whole tribe. If such a one were seen, these Z-Lotz would know that we know about these killing sticks. This may well hasten an attack as they would wish to do so before we learn how to make such weapons or defend against them. And, if such a one were caught, they would surely be tortured for information. Perhaps they would successfully resist or mislead but if they have a weapon such as this, who knows what kinds of torture they might have?”

In the Veritas form of dialogue, it was not necessary, particularly at the beginning to answer point with counterpoint. People just shared their thoughts and experiences. The Veritas actually listened to all of those who had spoken so far. There was a silence as the sun set in violent crimson and the roaring fire began to look brighter with the setting sun. 

Hudah Salem said, “I say to you that the Nomads of the south also think it good that we did not fight. It was not our fight. This now, we know more about the Z-Lotz and Nut-Pi. This now, we are happier still not to fight you.” 

Many Paths nodded. “So far, the strongest weapon we have found is not a weapon at all, but finding common cause so as not to fight at all.” 

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Trunk of Tree spoke again, “But imagine that the Nomads of the South had had such killing sticks, assuming they do exist. They may have been less reluctant to kill if it were so easy and so risk-free for them.”

A long silence ensued. The Veritas tried to imagine how having — or not having — an easier, more risk-free way to kill might or might not influence their actions and decisions. 

At last, Many Paths spoke. She realized that Trunk of Tree was likely using the dialogue as a way to demonstrate his wisdom and power. Nonetheless, it was more important, so she thought at the time, to seek the truth. “I believe you may be correct, Trunk of Tree. I would add that how much such killing sticks would encourage or deter going to war would depend on how a particular tribe thinks about life and how they reward their warriors and on what basis. All of these considerations must also be in our calculations as well. Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, I have a question, perhaps on the minds of many. In this meeting you witnessed, suppose that the leader of the Z-Lotz had not had a weapon of any kind. Would he have prevailed over these other men in any case?

Lion Slayer shook his head. “We cannot tell. We did not get a good look. Neither man seemed particularly — neither of them looked like Trunk of Tree. The one called Nut-Pi was a slight man, not young, but neither was he old. The first two he killed looked to be able-bodied warriors. The last man killed, the one he tortured, was portly. In a fight without weapons — who knows? We could not judge their skills.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next. “As Lion Slayer said, we did not have a chance to see the war skills of either. I can say with certainty that both Nut-Pi and the man we think was leader of the People who Steal Children were cowards. Neither one was a brave as our warriors.” 

Trunk of Tree questioned this as well. “How can you say this? You do not know.”

Eagle Eyes replied, “It is true. I do not know for certain. However, the Z-Lotz leader, Nut-Pi, though he had a killing stick, had numerous guards around him to face these unarmed persons. He used a weapon which easily and immediately killed two men. And yet, he did not use it just once but many times on his last victim. He intentionally and cruelly inflicted pain. Such damage as caused by the killing stick could have killed quickly. He chose to do it slowly instead. That is a bully. He used his power and his weapon to humiliate and cause unneeded pain. These are signs of a coward.” 

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There was a general murmur of assent. 

“The other man — the leader, so I think, of the People Who Steal Children begged for his life. He did not try to help his comrades. As Lion Slayer said, he looked to be one who has things brought to him all his life, or at least recently.” 

Many Paths added, “Indeed, we already have evidence that Nut-Pi was a coward. He did not participate in the Battle of Three Forks though he tricked others into fighting. He promised the booty to be gained from the defeat of the Veritas to three different tribes. Surely, he knows one thing cannot be given to three different tribes. He lied to his own comrades and allies. Such a man is a coward.” 

Trunk of Tree again spoke. Since he had no direct knowledge of the affairs, it began to seem to many among the Veritas that he was not participating in a true dialogue. This rarely happened, but it had happened. 

Trunk of Tree said, “So there are cowards with killing sticks and cowards without killing sticks. From this we learn nothing. A strong leader, who is not a coward could be a very formidable leader and lead his people to victory after victory.” After a short pause, he added, “Assuming they even exist, of course.” 

Eagle Eyes shot a look at Trunk of Tree and caught his eye. She signed to him subtly so that others might not see, but openly enough that Trunk of Tree caught the meaning of her deft sign language, as did Many Paths and several others. “Do you think I am a liar, Trunk of Tree?” the gestures asked.

Easy Tears spoke next, “Trunk of Tree, we welcome you to share your thoughts with the tribe, just as we welcome the thoughts of everyone in the tribe. But I, for one, would like to hear from others what they think of this killing stick. And, speaking of sticks, Many Paths, perhaps it is time to make use of the Talking Stick as well.” 

There was a general murmur of assent at this suggestion. The tribe had not forgotten that not so long ago, Trunk of Tree had spoken against the leadership of Many Paths and even now, it seemed that everything he said was aimed toward making him leader and making him in charge of the killing sticks, no matter what the costs. 

Many Paths stood and held aloft the Talking Stick.  She glanced around the circles and saw that Stone Chipper wanted to speak so she handed him the Talking Stick. 

“You all do know that we use arrowheads and spearheads and that the preparation of such requires work. Yet, most of you do other work, so you do not realize how much skill and how much work is involved in making a good arrowhead or a good spearhead or a really good axe. It may be that these killing sticks require much less work. Or, it may be that these killing sticks require much more work to fashion. We have no idea. We also have no idea how much skill is involved in keeping one or using one. We do not know how much using a killing dulls it. Can it be used ten times? A hundred times? A thousand times? Not everyone is equally skilled at bow and arrow. Not everyone is equally skilled at using a spear thrower. Sometimes, in learning to use our weapons, one of our own is injured. You have all heard how flaming arrows, which seem like an excellent weapon accidentally destroyed an entire village. We know nothing about the dangers of such killing sticks. Perhaps one who seeks to learn to become highly skilled might accidentally kill others or themselves while they are learning. Perhaps we should all have one. Perhaps no-one should. But I believe it would be foolish to steal them from these people of the great walled city, these Z-Lotz, until we know more about them. It isn’t just like stealing their bows and arrows which we know how to use and make and care for.” 

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Stone Chipper’s son, Horse Viewer offered his hand to his father who laid the Talking Stick for the first time in his son’s hand. Stone Chipper hoped his son’s would prove wise. “When I was young and first followed my father to help find appropriate stones, I generally walked barefoot. As I grew heavier and my father walked more quickly, I disliked the sharp stones on my feet. So, I began to wear moccasins as most do. This protected my feet. But it also made them softer. Is it not possible that using the Killing Sticks would make the arms that throw spears and the arm that strings and draws a bow softer and weaker as well? That is my thought.”

She Who Saves Many Lives took the Talking Stick and said, “And that is a good thought, Stone Chipper.” Though the tribe awaited her to say more, she passed the Talking Stick to A-OC.

“It is thus with hands as well. And muscles,” said A-OC. “When it is the season to climb the trees and fetch fruit, my skin and my arms both become stronger. But when it is a season of much weaving, only the tips of my fingers are hard.” With that she passed the Talking Stick to Bent Finger.

He silently held up the crooked index finger of his left hand. “It is true that the animals of the forest, the trees, even the rivers adapt as do our own bodies, but not always. Sometimes accidents happen and there is no repairing it. As you see, my badly broken finger never did straighten or regain its earlier strength. This makes me wonder about the accidents that might happen with such killing sticks about our camp.” 

P-OC gently took the Talking Stick. “We talk of killing sticks. But if I understand the tale told by Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, they saw one killing stick. Do we really know whether there are more?” 

Lion Slayer signaled his intention to speak again. Many Paths took the talking stick from P-OC and handed it to Lion Slayer. “It is true, P-OC. We only saw one. That is an important point. In the place where Sadah and I were born, there are many grains of sand. They are each but a very small rock, so tiny that even an ant may carry such a very small rock with no harm. But when there are many many such small stones and they fly together like a large murmuration of starlings, these insignificant tiny stones can kill the strongest among us if he is left unprotected.   So, I agree that it makes a great deal of difference if there is one such killing stick or a hundred or a hundred hundred.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next, “I do not know whether there are a hundred or a hundred hundred, but I am fairly certain that there are seventeen. I mean, at least seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer was taken aback. “But we only saw one. What do you mean?” 

Eagle Eyes explained. “I agree that the number is an important point, so I have been returning to our observations from before we arrived at the giant camp of the Z-Lotz. When we were searching the horizon for signs of our comrades, I saw many — well, 17 to be exact — of such similar sticks being carried among the party. I just thought at the time that they were odd spears or walking sticks. I did not realize at the time that they were sticks that kill so I did not pay much attention to them. But upon returning as I just have to what my eyes saw, there were seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer shook his head slowly. “I do not recall seeing any others. But I do believe Eagle Eyes. She is amazing. Her eyesight is much better than normal. It is possible…how do you…you notice so much, Eagle Eyes.”

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Many Paths picked up the Talking Stick and noticed Trunk of Tree wanting to talk. She used her prerogative though and added, “I, for one, believe Eagle Eyes. But we still do not know whether there are 17 or 100 or 100 of 100. This seems important for two reasons. First, a hundred hundred such weapons could be overwhelming while even so many as seventeen might be defeated by our archers. Aside from that, if there are only seventeen such Killing Sticks and each one owned by someone else, then, if we were to steal one to study, we would surely be found out. But if there are hundreds, a few missing would be far less noticeable.” 

Trunk of Tree could no longer contain himself, “Wait! A few minutes ago, you were cautioning against trying to learn more Now, you want us to steal such Killing Sticks.” 

Many Paths tilted her head toward Trunk of Tree and held the Talking Stick high. “Trunk of Tree, you must wait your turn, even as so must Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer who were actually there or even as so must everyone. You must wait your turn, even as young Horse Viewer did, though he be only of nine summers.” 

Gentle laughter murmured among the gathering and Many Paths continued. “I did not say either of those things. In fact, in my whole life, I don’t recall ever saying that we should not learn more. What I do believe is that it would be wonderful to know more about these Killing Sticks, but I also believe that there would be great risks in trying to steal one or more of them. I did not say that we should attempt such a theft. I said that if we were to steal some and that there were only a few, these Z-Lotz would likely notice that they had been stolen.” 

There were nods among many of the Veritas. 

Fleet of Foot signaled for the Talking Stick and Many Paths handed it to him. “Many Paths speaks true. I have been thinking of something else though. What would it mean if we had many such Killing Sticks and it were so easy to kill. What would it mean if we could kill with so little effort? Might not the people use them to kill each other?” He looked at the Veritas in the firelight as he spoke.

“Have you never quarreled with your neighbor and raised your voices in anger and tussled with them momentarily. Perhaps you were so angered you went home and plotted to kill them. But that took some thought. And as you thought about what to do, you soon came to realize that you had no real desire to kill your friend. You were merely angry. And so what if she were in the wrong. Your friendship is more important. And, the next day you embrace her and forget the argument of the yesterday, choosing life and love, in the today.

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“Imagine you had ready to hand one of these killing sticks and you got so mad you stung her to death with it. Your friend is dead. You will never be the same. Now, also are two families devastated. Anger and division will creep into our numbers as never before. 

“And suppose,” continued Fleet of Foot, that many tribes all have such weapons? Will they not have such moments and cause wars with the killing of many on both sides? And could these killing sticks not also be useful in keeping slaves?” 

Easy Tears added, “Yes, but there are other ways to do that — to keep slaves.”  

A-OC took another turn, “Is this possible misuse among ourselves not a greater danger than the temporary military disadvantage? If we cannot safely still such killing sticks, can we make  these killing sticks?” 

Stone Chipper asked, “Do we have any idea how they might work?” 

A long silence followed. 

Eagle Eyes said, “I know fairly well what they looked but I have no idea how the work.” 

Many Paths spoke, “It grows quite late. We must discuss this further, of course. For now, we must post more guards. Trunk of Tree, will you please consider how best to do that?” 

He nodded, glad of something to do and glad of the honor that Many Paths bestowed after chiding him somewhat for speaking out of turn. 

“Eagle Eyes, tomorrow, perhaps you and I and Staff Carver and Easy Tears may begin making some models of these Killing Sticks. I would like us to make perhaps seventeen — quite a good number for now — and spread them about among our people. I would like those who are given such to imagine that they are actual Killing Sticks. And, I would like everyone else among you to also imagine that they are true Killing Sticks. I would like to see how people react to these Killing Sticks among us as we continue to discuss what to do. Even though the Killing Sticks are no real, having such a thing — it is much like the masks we use to help with hunting. It will help us decide how to deal. Even such Killing Sticks as Nut-Pi has will not kill all our cousins in the sea and the air, all our brothers than hide in their tiny caves. Life will persist. This I know. Peace now be with you all.” She glanced at She Who Saves Many Lives. Even in the dim and flickering firelight she could see a small nod and an approving smile on the lips of the Elder. 

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