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Metaphors We Live By and Die By

12 Wednesday Dec 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, family, management, psychology, Uncategorized

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Democracy, elections, Feedback, government, life, metaphor, politics, programming, thinking

Metaphors We Live By and Die By

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I love metaphors.I always have. I admit it. I think every youngster does, at least until they are exposed to poetry in English class. I was lucky to have an awesome English teacher who deepened rather than destroyed my natural love of metaphors. There are plenty in my own poems.  but in this post, I am not focusing on metaphors for poetry so much as metaphors that we use in our thinking. Metaphors impact the way we approach situations at work and at home. I was influenced to see this by two main sources. First, Lakoff & Johnson’s book, Metaphors we Live By  was first published in 1980. This book greatly influenced, among other things, our IBM Research team’s study of human-computer interaction. At this point in the history of human-computer interaction and user experience, researchers and practitioners began to explore how various metaphors (e.g.,desktop, trash can, windows, drag and drop) could be used to help users understand the capabilities of computers and how to invoke them. (See, e.g., Carroll, J. and Thomas, J.C. (1982). Metaphor and the cognitive representation of computer systems. IEEE Transactions on Man, Systems, and Cybernetics., SMC-12 (2), pp. 107-116). 

Consider the error messages “Illegal Syntax” and “User Error.” They both put the responsibility for an undesirable state of affairs squarely on the shoulders of the user. “Hey you! User! You did something dastardly! You used illegal syntax.”

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Generally, the term “illegal” implies that you did something that was against the law. It usually implies you did something unethical too. Gerry Weinberg, one of the pioneers of UX/HCI (a keynote speaker at the Gaithersburg Conference),  pointed out that the “legal” syntax of languages often has arbitrary restrictions. It might be more accurate to have an error message that says, “Our programmers were unable to take the time to allow dates to be entered in European or Chinese format. Please enter dates as MM/DD/YYYY as in 08/04/1961 for August 4th, 1961.” This longer message tells the user what was “wrong” with their input and how to correct it as well as conveying the very real truth that the limitation is with the software, not with the user. Similarly, what is called “User Error” actually comes up as a message when the user does something that seemed reasonable to the user and would most likely be interpretable by another human being but was not anticipated or could not be dealt with by the programming team. Suppose it said instead, “Software error. We did not anticipate this kind of input so we can’t deal with it.” Or, in many cases, a more honest message might be: “Software error. We knew people would want to do this, but we didn’t have budget to program properly.”  

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 At the same time I was thinking about metaphors and Human Factors in Computing Systems, I was also conducting therapy as a Fellow at the Institute for Rational Living. I was learning and supervising cognitive behavioral therapy under the direction of Albert Ellis. Here I observed how people used metaphors to help make sense of their lives and make decisions about their lives. For example, as pointed out by Lakoff & Johnson, people often viewed romantic love as a sickness! It is also common to view romantic love as a journey over which you have little or no control. It is understandable why it sometimes feels that way, but such a metaphor is not empowering. It does little to lead you to make reasonable decisions about love or about those whom you love. Think instead of love as a collaborative work of art. 

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The “Love is a collaborative work of art” metaphor encourages you to realize that you must collaborate with your partner to make a relationship work over time. You can’t really collaborate very well unless you communicate. It also encourages you to realize that work is involved. It encourages you to realize that it is a creative endeavor. While you can certainly learn from the successes and mistakes of others, in the end, your relationship is unique. It will take creativity to make your relationship work. It puts the responsibility for the relationship on you and your partner, not on forces beyond your control. 

It isn’t only love about which people often use inappropriate metaphors. For example, when it comes to overcoming addiction, overeating, under-exercising, people often use sin as their over-arching metaphor. “I was bad last night. I had two pieces of pumpkin pie.” “I was horrible all week. I had those evil donuts every morning.” The metaphor that “eating is evil” is inaccurate. After all, you have to eat to live. Furthermore, that metaphor doesn’t lead to any solutions except to try harder to be “good.” Worse than that, if often subverts a person’s efforts. “I didn’t want to have any ice cream but I did. Oh, well, the night is blown. I may as well eat the whole quart.” (Now that I’ve sinned, I may as well enjoy it). Weight is best thought of in purely physical terms. If you ingest more calories than you burn you will gain weight. If you burn more calories than you consume, you will lose weight. That’s it! That’s all there is. Making it about good and evil does not help and, in my experience, is completely counter-productive. 

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Speaking of counter-productive metaphors, I have been annoyed and concerned for decades that the media have largely (though not wholly) reported on political matters as they report on sporting events. During election season, you will hear relatively little about the candidates, their positions, their backgrounds or their ethics. You will hear a lot about strategy and where they stand in the polls. Often you will literally hear nothing more than a sound bite per day about major candidates. Then, pundits will unendingly discuss and debate how this or that sound bite will work or not work with various voter groups. No matter how outrageous, unethical, or disgusting a candidate’s behavior is, the media will spend most of their coverage on how it will affect the “score.”

Metaphors have consequences. 

We now find ourselves in an extremely weird position, at least in America. One candidate has “won” the “World Series” of elections (American Presidency). Many of the people who voted for him think of themselves as his “fans” and “supporters.” They believe their guy “won” so they want to continue to support “their team.” After all, imagine that you are a Yankees fan and the Yankees won the World Series. You get to have bragging rights until the next World Series. If one of the Yankees turns out to be a tax evader, you’re still going to be a Yankees fan. If one of the Yankee pitchers turns out to have cheated during the games, say, by putting illegal substances on the baseball, you’ll still be a Yankees fan. Another Yankee might be a wife beater. But, hey, they won the World Series! So you’re still a loyal Yankees fan. 

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Here’s the thing. It doesn’t make a whole lot of real difference in your life who won the World Series. It doesn’t matter materially to your kids. It doesn’t matter materially to your grandkids. Don’t get me wrong. It will make some difference in how you feel. You and your whole family might be happy they won. But it won’t make the air you breathe cleaner or dirtier. It won’t make the water you and your family drink pure or contaminated with carcinogenic toxins. It won’t make or break the economy. Having the Yankees or Boston Red Sox win the World Series will have zero impact on global climate change. Even if Chicago wins the World Series, it won’t start an atomic war. If the Phillies win, it won’t mean you will lose your health care. Stay loyal to those Yankees! Or to the Green Bay Packers. Or to Manchester United. Or to the India National Cricket Team. Or whoever your favorite team is. Why not? 

Politics though, regardless of how it is reported by the news media, is vastly and vitally different from a sporting event!  Who is in office can have a huge influence on what happens in the lives of people. In the case of an American President, who is in office can have a huge influence on the lives of people around the globe, not only today and tomorrow, but also for decades to come. 

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Collectively, those Americans who voted (about 137.5 million) in the last Presidential election hired someone for a job. (Actually, nearly 63 million voted to hire him while nearly 66 million voted to hire Hilary Clinton). POTUS is an important job and how that person does that job impacts your life in a very real way. It impacts the lives of your friends and your family. It impacts the lives of people around the world. Every action that person takes, every speech they give, every statement they tweet has an impact. You or I might send out a nasty tweet about people. But our nasty tweets are very unlikely to cause someone to construct and send pipe bombs to the people we tweeted about. We have hired someone to do a very important job. It isn’t a sporting event.

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Imagine instead of rooting for your favorite sports team that you hired a guy to take care of your kids. To you, that is certainly an important job. After you hire him, you discover that the person you hired lied to get the job. He lies to you every single day. He steals from you! Not only that. Every day, he trashes your house a little more. He has parties at your house and the people he invites include known criminals. Worst of all, this guy you hired is a child molester! That’s obviously a nightmare scenario. What makes it worse is that many people knew that the person you hired was a crook and a child molester. 

What do you do when there is a mountain of evidence that he is lying to you; stealing from you; trashing your house; consorting with known criminals; and is a child molester? 

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Do you keep him on to watch your kids anyway out of a sense of loyalty? 

Do you feel so guilty about hiring him that you insist to all your friends and relatives that this guy is doing a great job? (Because, after all, that’s what he keeps saying). 

Do you keep him on until he is convicted in a court of law? 

Of course you don’t! You fire him immediately. 

You have the power to choose the metaphors you use. You don’t have to stick with a metaphor just because it was the first one to occur to you. 

Metaphors have consequences. Whether in your personal life, work life, or political life, choose your metaphors with care. Don’t latch on to one simply because it’s the one the mainstream media discovered rakes in the most ad revenue.

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 Representation 

11 Tuesday Dec 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology

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Business, Design, Dictatorship, Feedback, measurement, politics, programming, Representation, science, symbol, testing, truth

 Representation 

“Choose your words carefully.” We have all heard that advice. It’s good advice and choosing a good representation is key to solving problems, but the general point extends beyond choosing words. Take a few moments now to divide DCXXXV by IX without translating to Arabic numerals. Go ahead. I’ll wait. 

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Choosing the “best” representation for a problem depends on the nature of the problem but it also depends on your own skills and experience with a representation. If you have memorized the multiplication tables up to 99 x 99 (rather than only up to 9 x 9), you can use different techniques for multiplication than if you haven’t. If you already know how to program in FORTRAN and LISP, some algorithms will be easier to program in FORTRAN and some will be easier in LISP. But if the only language you know is R, then under most circumstances, it will be far faster and less error prone to use R than to learn another language and then use that one. 

Every representation of a real-world situation will necessarily make some features of the situation obvious and other features will be hidden or less obvious. An elevator, for instance, might say, “Capacity: 12 people.” If all of the people are wildly obese, then 12 may not fit into the elevator. The capacity sign is assuming that the people will be somewhat average. If there are 12 adults in the elevator, and one of them is holding a newborn, it won’t make much difference. If there are only 10 people in the elevator and each one has a large suitcase full of gold bullion, there may be room for all 10 to stand, but the total weight of the cargo may exceed the capacity of the elevators, snap the cable, and plummet you to your death. Remember that the next time you get on an elevator filled with folks who have suitcases of gold bullion. 

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Every representation has its limitations. If you’re familiar with a field, you will hopefully learn to recognize what those limitations are. In a famous book, The Mythical Man-Month, (still worth reading, though it should be called “Person-Month”), Fred Brooks shows that such a metric as “man-month” or “person-month” has serious limitations in planning and executing software projects. Some have paraphrased his message this way: “You can’t use nine women to make one baby in one month.” According to Brooks, who had plenty of experience as a high level manager of large software projects, when management finds that a software project is behind schedule (which is quite often), there are two major reactions of management: 1) require more measurements, reports, and presentations to management and 2) hire more people. 

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The issue with reaction 1 is partly that it takes time away from the managers and workers in order to make those measurements, prepare those reports and presentations, and to attend the meetings. Beyond that, it puts the focus of attention on those measurements (representations) which will only be at best, modestly correlated with what the real problems are. If, for instance, requirements keep changing, or there are incompatibilities in the requirements, measuring lines of code produced is not only useless in itself; it keeps people from tackling the hard problem. A solution to a hard problem might be telling the client that there can be no more changes in requirements. A solution to a hard problem might be resolving the incompatibility in requirements. One can count lines of code pretty easily. One can count other things like “function points” with a little more work but it doesn’t require getting into the “hard” and people-oriented problems that really need to be solved. 

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Reaction 2 – adding more people – will put more “resources” on the project. You can easily count the people. You can easily count the hours they work. The problem is that a person-hour is, like the elevator capacity, an over-simplified metric. In fact, it is a much worse representation of the resources on the project than the elevator metric. First of all, studies show that even among programmers with equal training, there are often ten-fold differences in productivity. The second, and even bigger issue is that even really productive programmers who are added late to a project will have to learn about the project: the people, the requirements, and the code base. If these new people are stolen from an existing project, that will also put that project in jeopardy as well. If they are instead new hires, then in addition to all the technical knowledge that they need to come up to speed on, they will also have to learn all sorts of administrivia that will take time and brain space away from the project: how to commute to work, where the cafeteria is, how to fill out time cards. Most likely, they’ll have to attend ethics training, and diversity training, and safety training. Even worse, a lot of the knowledge that they will need to become a productive member of the team mainly exists in the heads of the very people who are doing the programming now! This means that the busiest, most productive people on the project will have to take time away from programming to spend it instead on answering questions that the new people will have. 

Even this understated the real impact however. Let’s look at that phrase I just used, “…will have to take time away from programming to spend it instead…” What hidden assumption about representation is buried in this phrase? It gets the reader to think along the lines that time is additive. If I am deeply involved in programming and I get an IM or phone call from a newbie asking me a question about the project, it might take an hour to answer. Does that mean I have subtracted an hour from my own productive programming? No. It’s probably much worse than that. Why? Because I am not a machine, but a human being. It will cost me much more than the hour to get back to the same state of flow that I was in when I was interrupted. 

I was involved for a time in looking at programmer productivity for high performance computing  using various tools and the X programming language. One of the people I interviewed put it this way: “My manager calls for an hour meeting for 10 am when I am in the middle of a complex [parallel programming] problem. He thinks he’s taken an hour of my time. For him it’s an hour long meeting. But for me, he’s really destroyed the whole morning.”  

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These representational issues apply far beyond software development. For example, in the USA and in many other countries, we look at GDP as a measure of the economic productivity of the country. But how does this metric shape — or distort — our view of productivity? If a parent stays home with small children and they both love the time together, and the parent uses that time to help grow a loving, educated, productive citizen, it adds to the well-being of the country as well as that child and that parent and that family. But GDP? Nada. If instead, the parent paid money to put the child in mediocre day care, that would add to the GDP. 

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Similarly, if I go to the grocery and buy a hard, tasteless tomato for myself, I will pay for the growing of that tomato, advertising it, shipping it, warehousing it, displaying it, and for the genetic alterations so that the tomato, while tasteless, is easy to transport without spoiling. Yay me! I have added to the GDP. But if I go to a friend’s house and taste a wonderful tomato, ask for some seeds or a cutting and grow my own heirloom tomato, watering it lovingly with rainwater, weeding around it, and fertilizing it with compost, I have added zero to the GDP. Yet, the tomato will give me more pleasure, not less, than the croquet balls they have in the store. 

Representation is a good thing! Humans use symbolic thinking to do many things that would be difficult or impossible without these kinds of representations. But we must remember the limitations and not confuse reality with our representations of reality. 

This is not a new phenomenon. In the American Revolutionary War, high ranking British military officers could not understand why the British navy “refused” to navigate their warships up the Bronx River to attack revolutionary positions upriver. If you’ve ever seen the Bronx River, you’ll realize why immediately. But the maps that the British brass looked at showed a navigable river! 

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Yes, we need to use representation in our thinking. But we also need to think about our representations. You cannot assume that the one that is customarily used is “right” in all circumstances. People of different backgrounds and cultures will often use somewhat different representations of a problem or situation. (This is one of the advantages of diversity). However you do it, it’s worth questioning whether the way you are representing a situation or problem is optimal, or even adequate, for the problem at hand. 

Suppose you are measuring “number of user errors” that users make while using a prototype text editor. You move from prototype A which averaged 10 user errors per half hour test to prototype B which only averages 5 user errors per half hour. Yay! You’ve cut user errors in half! But what if the errors you eliminated were all fairly trivial; e.g., people with version A couldn’t figure out how to number their footnotes with Roman numerals instead of Arabic. In version B, that error, along with other trivial errors, was eliminated. But one of the new errors causes the system to crash and all the user’s work to be lost. Have you really made progress? 

All errors are not alike. All dollars are not alike. All people are not alike. Not even all tomatoes are equivalent. We constantly over-simplify and yet in some cases it’s necessary in order to deal with complexity. I don’t see how all such errors can be avoided. But it’s crucial for everyone, but especially for managers and executives, to be open to the cases where the representation that is being used has become counter-productive rather than “doubling down” on such errors. Finding and fixing errors of representation are generally harder to diagnose and fix than errors made with a representation. That is all the more reason why everyone, but especially leaders, must be open to changing the way issues are represented. 

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It is no accident that dictatorships generally result in nations wherein people have both less material wealth and less enjoyment and freedom. A dictator typically refuses to admit mistakes and fix them even if it means murdering someone to make the problem appear to go away. Ultimately, this process ruins any organization. Such a person need not be a national leader. They can be a company manager, a coach, a corporate executive, or a parent. Everyone makes errors, including errors of representation. But a reasonable person is open to fixing it when new information becomes available. You can be like that too. 

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Regression to the Mean

10 Monday Dec 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology, sports

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Business, experiment, family, Feedback, HCI, learning, life, politics, science, sports, testing, usability, UX

Regression to the Mean

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While working full-time at IBM Research, I was also a Fellow at the Institute for Rational-Emotive Therapy in Manhattan. I wrote an article in 1978 for their Journal, Rational Living.  The title was: “Why Do I Self-Down? Because I’m an Idiot?” Indeed, many people put themselves down and it is not helpful. I hypothesized several different causes for this kind of self-slamming behavior. Most of these causes you could probably figure out on your own. But one in particular is subtle and non-intuitive. It is based on a statistical phenomenon which few people know about despite the fact that it is extremely pervasive. This phenomenon is called “Regression to the Mean.” 

I want to define this term by explaining some examples. Imagine that you have a new soft drink which contains a combination of herbs that will purportedly make you smarter; e.g., gingko and bacopa. (There is some evidence these may actually work but let’s assume that they don’t or that your tea has too little to be effective). Here’s what you do to “prove” that it works anyway. You give an IQ test to 10,000 people and choose the 50 who score the lowest on the test and have them drink your tea for the next six months. At the end of that time, you give those 50 people an IQ test again and — Voila! The average (or mean) of the IQ scores has almost certainly gone up. Yay! It works! 

Or does it? One of your competitors is not too happy about your study. In fact, they aren’t even happy you put your tea on the market. They decide to prove that your tea is not only ineffective but that it makes people less smart. So what do they do? They give an IQ test to 10,000 people and they pick the 50 who score the highest. They have them drink your tea for six months and at the end of that time, they have them take another IQ test. In this case, the mean (average) score is lower than the first time! Ouch! They say your tea causes brain damage! 

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How can the same tea make people smarter and make them dumber? In this case, it does neither. What is going on? Here’s what is going on. When you measure something, there is always some error. Whether you are measuring your weight, your height, your blood pressure, or your IQ, the measurement is never exactly perfect. Your weight may vary slightly because of atmospheric pressure and more so because of water retention. If you take an IQ test, your score will partly reflect how well you do on such tests in general, but it will partly depend on luck. You may have felt particularly good that day, or a few of the questions might have been on topics you just heard about on TV the day before, or you may have made some lucky guesses. Or, you may have been unlucky on a particular day. You might have had a cold or misread one of the questions or forgotten your morning coffee. On any given day, some people will be a little lucky and some people will be a little unlucky. These things tend to balance out in a large group and if you tested all 10,000 people after six months, then assuming the tea has no real effect, no effect will be shown in the data. 

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However, if you select the very best scores, you are partly picking smart people, of course, but you are also picking the people who were lucky that day. When you test just those people six months later, they will generally be just as smart but there is no reason to suppose they will be lucky again. Some will be lucky both times, most will not be particularly lucky or unlucky and a few will be unlucky. The average score will be lower. Conversely, if you choose the lowest scoring people, you will partly be choosing people who don’t do well on such tests in general. But you will also be choosing people who were tired, sick, guessed wrong or were otherwise unlucky that day. When you retest, those people will still tend to be people who do poorly on such tests, but they won’t necessarily all be unlucky again. Some will. Some won’t. On average, the scores will be higher than they were the first time. 

The phenomenon of “Regression to the Mean” was first noted by Francis Galton in the 1880’s. Tversky and Kahneman, so far as I know, were the first to note that this phenomenon could easily cause managers, coaches, and parents to end up being unnecessarily negative. Here’s how it works. Let’s say you are learning to hit tennis serve. Although you will likely improve in general, over time, there will also be a lot of variation in your performance. Sometimes, everything will work well together and you’ll hit an excellent serve, one that is above your average level. At first, the coach’s natural inclination will be to praise this by saying, “Wow! Great serve!” or something like that. Unfortunately, your next serve, due to regression to the mean is very likely not to be quite as good as that one was. Your coach’s praising behavior was thereby punished. On the other hand, if you hit a particularly poor serve for your level, your coach might say, “Oh, come on. You can do better than that!” If they choose to say such things only on your very worst performances, then, due to regression to the mean, your next serve is likely to be somewhat better. In other words, their slamming you will be rewarded by your doing better the next time. The same general tendencies will apply to managers and parents as well.  

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The same applies to you! Whatever you are doing, your performance will vary somewhat over time. If you begin by praising yourself internally whenever you hit a particularly great shot, your next shot will most likely be not so great. On the other hand, if you put yourself down when you find your performance particularly bad, “You idiot! How could you miss that!?” Your next shot will tend to be somewhat better. Over time, your positive self-talk will tend to be punished and your negative self-talk will tend to be rewarded. 

It’s no wonder then that many managers, coaches, and parents end up saying very negative things about their charges. It’s also no wonder that many people say (or more likely think) many more negative things about themselves than they say positive things.  

Is there anything to be done? First, simply be aware of this phenomenon. That is step one. If you are running a study, you need to be careful in selecting. The study about your tea could be fixed by re-testing the entire population; by selecting a random group of 50 rather than the best or worst; or by using a control group who did not drink tea but was retested anyway. When praising or punishing someone’s performance, do not bother with trying to reward or punish outcomes based on one trial. That’s actually a pretty poor way to coach yourself or others in any case. See The Winning Weekend Warrior for more on this. Also watch out for this when you read about various conclusions of other studies. Did the investigators select either the “best” or the “worst” for their study? If they did such a selection, did they talk about the bias this introduces? Did they have a control group? 

Meanwhile, treat your mistakes as opportunities to learn, not as opportunities to put yourself down. There’s really no point in self-downing. But if you do find yourself self-downing, remember that it’s common; relax; smile at this human foible; then quit doing it. At least give yourself a break for the holidays. 

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Tversky, A., & Kahneman, D. Judgment under uncertainty: Heuristics and biases. Science, 1974, 185, 1124-1131. 

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Theory of Mind

09 Sunday Dec 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology, Uncategorized

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"Theory of Mind", cooperation, Design, empathy, politics, psychology, sports, teamwork, truth

Theory of Mind. 

“Theory of Mind” refers to the ability of most humans to imagine, at least to a degree, what another person is likely to do based on their knowledge of what the other person knows. Here is a simple test used to determine whether someone has this ability. 

You are the “subject” being tested and you are in a room with me (the “experimenter”). Your friend Vlad is in the room too. In full view of you and Vlad, I hide a giant luscious chocolate chip cookie (such as you might purchase from Panera, but won’t because you realize that if you buy it there is no way you aren’t going to eat it!). I “hide” this cookie in the top drawer of my desk. Now, Vlad walks out of the room. He’s well out of sight. Now, I take the cookie out of my drawer, and using great self-control, do not eat the cookie myself but instead put it in my pocket. 

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Now, I turn to you and ask, “When Vlad comes back, where will he look for the cookie?” If you are 2, 3, or 4 years old, you would say, “In your pocket!” I rephrase this a few times to make sure you understand that I am not asking you where the cookie actually is but where Vlad will search. You again insist that Vlad will look in my pocket. At such a young age, kids do not distinguish their state of knowledge from someone else’s. Most adults will have no problem with this task. They have a “theory of mind” that allows them to know that their state of knowledge is not the same as Vlad’s. Some adults diagnosed with autism will have trouble with this task however.

An interesting question arises as to whether other animals have a “theory of mind.” It is not a settled question. My purpose here however, is to explain what the term means and show how it’s useful for humans. Despite the fact that most adult humans have the capacity to do “theory of mind” tasks and that it is useful, they nonetheless often fail to evoke their capacity.

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A closely related concept is “empathy.” Empathy generally refers to being able to feel what another person feels emotionally. I see the distinction as one of perspective or emphasis rather than two different entities. These two concepts (empathy and Theory of Mind) are explored in much greater detail in the “Myths of the Veritas” series in this blog. For now, suffice it to say that you might empathize with another person by relating to their facial expressions, posture, or regarding what they say and how they say it. You might see a picture of a small, terrified four-year old alone in a cage and know that they are terrified without having any verified knowledge or detailed knowledge of what they “know” or “don’t know.” They might or might not know any English. And you might or might not know their language or even what their language is. But you can tell that they are in great distress just by looking at them. If you actually feel what it is like to be a small child separated from your parents and being trapped in a cage in a strange place, that is generally called “empathy.” 

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If I were to ask you what kind of pleading this four year old is likely to make in court, if you have  the capacity for a “Theory of Mind,” you might well ask, “Well…I don’t know. What do they know about courts or proceedings? What could they know? They are only four years old.”  You’d be correct, of course, to question whether it was meaningful to have a four year old acting for themselves in court. This would be particularly true if they had to plead in a court where they were unfamiliar with the culture, the venue, and the language. But even a really smart four year old who had been brought up in America and spoke excellent English would not be capable of really understanding the consequences. This kind of understanding demonstrates a deeper theory of mind than simply knowing that because a specific piece of information is in your own head doesn’t mean it’s in someone else’s head. 

In The Myths of the Veritas, people are given a range of tasks that involve what is called empathy. To me, although one can draw a conceptual distinction between understanding another person’s knowledge and feeling an echo of another person’s feelings, when it comes to many practical situations, it’s more important to put oneself in another person’s shoes, than to correctly label the process. 

Writers must often deal with multi-level theories of mind. There is what the writer knows about the events that are being written about in a story. There are the spheres of knowledge that various characters have. Most often, different characters have critically different states of knowledge. What the reader knows is yet again different. And all of these spheres of knowledge change throughout the course of the narrative. 

In The Myths of the Veritas, for example, the author knows throughout that ALT-R is making POND MUD put his face in the mud purely to humiliate him and keep power over him. ALT-R knows it as well. Over time, most readers will come to the same conclusion but not necessarily at exactly the same place in the narrative. Most of the Veritas tribe initially know nothing about this incident, but She-Of-Many-Paths intuits it and eventually many of the Veritas come to understand it. At first POND MUD is fairly certain ALT-R saved his life by making him do it. But as he observes and interacts with ALT-R and others, he begins to doubt that and then goes about actively seeking information from others that would help clarify ALT-R’s true motives. 

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In Othello, the writer knows from the beginning that Iago is an evil sociopath. The audience knows quite early that Iago is an evil sociopath and learns more about his schemes through speeches that Iago delivers directly to the audience. Othello himself, on the other hand, has his state of “knowledge” manipulated by Iago. The audience knows that Othello is being duped by Iago but Othello himself does not know of it or of Desdemona’s innocence when he murders her though at that point, the writer, the audience, Desdemona, Iago, Cassio and other characters all know that Desdemona is innocent. We have some sympathy for Othello because we realize that he is operating on false information. 

Let’s turn to a happier piece of fiction, The Gift of the Magi by O’Henry (William Sydney Porter). In this story, a couple with financial struggles each gives up their most prized possession to buy a gift for the other. The functional value of the gifts is destroyed by what they gave up. Della knows that Jim’s most prized possession is his gold watch so she sells her beautiful hair to get money to buy him a watch chain. Jim knows that Della’s most prized possession is her beautiful hair so he sells his watch in order to buy her some jeweled combs for her hair. Of course, the real gifts they give are not diminished by their being no longer functional. The real gift is the gift of love. The author obviously knows all this from the beginning. Readers “catch on” to what is happening at various points in the narrative, but Jim and Della are the last to learn of the full irony. 

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Sadly, many people seem not to bother trying to understand the situation and capabilities of others. In one of the simplest cases, people are apparently unable to understand how very basic physical properties of the universe result in various people having various states of knowledge. On the tennis court, in a “friendly game,” the players themselves make the calls and keep track of the score. The server is supposed to announce the score before every serve. Some people actually “announce” the score by saying it so softly that only they can hear it! 

In other cases, novice drivers will follow a semi truck so closely that the truck drive cannot see the car behind them. Another trick of drivers is to turn their blinkers on – but only as they begin making the turn. In another post, I explain how one person’s driving behavior in “stop and go traffic” can influence many other people’s. In particular, if you leave a large space between your car and the one in front of you, it makes it easier for many people around you to drive more smoothly because they have a much more complete view of what is happening in front of them. 

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A more subtle failure in “Theory of Mind” occurs when a person assumes that everyone is motivated in the same way that they are. For example, a person may be so partisan that they will always defend and promote people in their own political party no matter how heinous the crimes of that person. This is an error, but a concomitant error is that such people assume everyone who doesn’t defend the criminal, and certainly anyone who actively resists such a crooked politician is doing so from a purely partisan perspective because that’s what they would do. Sociopaths who cheat may assume that everyone would cheat and the only reason they don’t cheat is because those non-cheaters are not smart enough to get away with it. 

When teamwork is operating at a high level, whether it’s hockey, soccer, tennis doubles, basketball, families, or design teams, people exhibit excellent “Theory of Mind” skills. How are yours? Have you experienced such high functioning teams? How can you improve your skills at “Theory of Mind”? 

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Meta-Cognition

08 Saturday Dec 2018

Posted by petersironwood in management, psychology

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

bias, cognition, Feedback, Halo Effect, politics, Primacy Effect, psychology, science, sports, truth

Meta-Cognition

“Cognition” refers to thinking activities such as problem solving, learning, decision making, and imagining. “Meta-Cognition” refers to thinking about thinking. The science of psychology, over the last 150 years, has learned a lot about human thinking. If you are reading this blog post, the chances are pretty good that you are a human being. Although there are important individual differences in how people solve problems, learn, make decisions, and use their imaginations, there are also huge similarities. To the extent that you understand your own thinking, you can use that knowledge to do a better job of problem solving, learning, decision making and using your imagination. 

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Here are a few examples that you may already be aware of. I really like chocolate. And I really like almonds. Chocolate-covered almonds are one of my very favorite foods. I know this about myself. I also know that I am easily distracted. I’m not the sort of person who begins to write a blog post, thinks about chocolate almonds and then stops writing to rush out to the store and buy a package. In fact, there is almost no activity that I can be engaged in which I would interrupt in order to go buy chocolate almonds no matter how much I craved them. On the other hand, if there were a bowl of chocolate almonds right beside me, in easy reach, I would definitely reach over and grab some whenever I paused in my writing. So, how do I use the knowledge about my own behavior to control my own behavior? 

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I don’t often buy chocolate almonds. It’s very easy to simply not go to the part of the grocery store where these little devils hang out. If I walk by, I know that they will start singing to me like the Lorelei of legend: “Come get me! I am so tasty. Get me now. Please. I want to go home with you.” But I can’t really hear them that well beyond about five feet. Probably this is because they have a very rudimentary vocal apparatus. 

I do buy them perhaps once a month and when I do buy them I put them in a closed drawer so they are mainly out of earshot. Then, I will have a few and get back to work. I may not have them for days at a time. If, however, I put them in a bowl right beside my computer, I am fairly certain that I would eat the whole box the first day; indeed, quite possibly in the first hour. 

This is an example of using what I know about how I think about things to think about arranging the environment to my own long-term benefit. 

Another example, which I may describe in more detail later, is the so-called “Primacy Effect.” This is known in popular terms as the power of “First Impressions.” If your first experience with something — whether it’s dogs, cats, Chinese food, or computer programming — is negative, it will be difficult to overcome that later. This is not only true of emotional reactions. It’s also true about what you recall about something. 

Suppose that you meet someone named Joseph Josephson at a party and John has a beard and long black hair. Perhaps you talk to Joseph for ten minutes. You meet Joseph a few months later at a tennis match and now he is clean shaven and has short hair. You play tennis with him for an hour. A few months later, someone happens to ask you if you know Joseph Josephson. Chances are, an image will pop into your head of Joseph with long black hair and a beard. Of course, sales people, politicians and wise people applying for jobs make use of this and want to make a “good first impression.” Since you now know that first impressions are particularly important, you can use this knowledge about how people think to make sure that first impression is a good one. 

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You can also use that knowledge to help modify your own thinking and decision making. Suppose someone comes to you for a job interview and the first thing they do when they walk in your office is trip over a chair and spill their papers on the floor. That’s unfortunate! It is quite natural to immediately conclude that they are unsuited for the job. At this point, you could remind yourself though that this is only a first impression and that you should not let it color your judgement about whether they are the best candidate for the job. You probably won’t be entirely successful in not letting it cloud your judgement, but you will be somewhat successful. 

As I explain in The Winning Weekend Warrior, you can also use the “Primacy Effect” in sports. For example, if you are serving in tennis doubles, if you mainly want to hit a flat serve and stay back after serving, you might serve a kick-serve and follow it to the net a few times at the beginning. Even if you never do this again, your opponents will continue to be “looking for” that kick serve and may prepare their return on that basis. 

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When it comes to evaluating candidates for jobs, you must also be wary of the “Halo Effect.” If you find out something good about a candidate, it will tend to cloud your judgement about other aspects of their qualifications, even if that “good thing” is likely irrelevant to the job. A physically attractive candidate will tend to be judged as more qualified overall even if the job has nothing to do with physical attractiveness. But now that you know this about human judgements (and therefore also your judgements), you can take steps to minimize the “Halo Effect.” It may help, for instance, if you specifically judge candidates on several dimensions of background or experience. The more “objective” you can make the criteria, the less susceptible the judgments are to the “Halo Effect.” So, if the candidate is very attractive, for example, if you simply say whether they are suitable for the job, there will be a relatively large impact of their attractiveness. On the other hand, if you are asked to separately rate the candidate on Work Experience, Educational Background, Appearance, and Relevant Skills, the Halo Effect from their physical appearance will tend to be mainly (but not wholly) focused on the “Appearance” factor. If you answer even more specific and objective questions such as: “Does the candidate have an advanced degree?” or “Does the candidate have more than two years programming in C?” the “Halo Effect” is further minimized. 

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One of the most common ways that people use meta-cognition is simply to write things down. You and I both know that we have a tendency to forget. Most of us, therefore have paper or electronic calendars. We don’t typically rely on our own memory to keep track of a complex schedule of appointments. Why? Presumably, we do this because we know that we are likely to forget an appointment if we rely on our brains. Most of us do not bother to put our own birthday on the calendar because we realize that we are quite aware of it and not likely to forget. People who celebrate Christmas often do not bother to put that date on the calendar either. We know that it would be rather hard to forget! Similarly, many people who go grocery shopping and buy milk, eggs, and bread every week do not bother to put it on the list. If your aunt Mary is coming to visit and she requires soy milk, you probably will put that on your shopping list. You realize (through meta-cognition) that this is an item you are likely to forget. 

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These are just a few examples. Findings about human cognition abound. You can use these findings to do a better job in your own thinking; you can use those same findings to help you in competitive situations in predicting what others will do. If you are interested in more such findings about psychology, you might find these fascinating and well-written books of interest.

Thinking Fast & Slow, by Daniel Kahneman

Predictably Irrational by Dan Ariely  

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Holiday Gift Ideas: 

For busy professionals who wish to live a long and healthy life: Fit in Bits shows many ways to work exercise into otherwise sedentary activities. 

For amateur athletes who would like to win more, The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on strategy, tactics, and the mental game for all sports including tennis, golf, softball, etc. 

For Sci-Fi fans, Turing’s Nightmares presents 23 short stories that explore the practical and ethical implications of Artificial Intelligence. 

For those interested in what it was like to grow up in mid-America in the 1950’s, Tales from an American Childhood recounts early memories and then relates them to contemporary events and issues. 

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle of the Southern Path

30 Tuesday Oct 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology, Veritas

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empathy, learning, myths, politics, science, story, strategy, trust, truth, Veritas

The Battle of the Southern Path

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POND MUD awoke with a start. He had heard something that didn’t sound right. Something was out of place. His cabin walls had disappeared! He sat up and saw campfires arranged in a strange pattern. He shook the sleep from his head and remembered that he was not in the Center Place of the Veritas. He was out on a raiding party with the Cupiditas; that he had joined up with them. They were about to have a battle, he reminded himself. It was time to keep his wits about him. He took out a small leather pouch from beneath his tunic and felt for his rings of empathy. Oh, right, he thought. He grimaced ruefully as he remembered those are gone as well. He was with the Cupiditas now. About to have a battle. Which they would win. And, then, he could be king with ALT-R and have She-of-Many-Paths as his slave. 

He went to relieve himself and returned to the campfire, still in a bad mood. Every day, he had to remind himself that he had chosen his path and now he was committed to it. These Cupiditas, a strong lot, on the whole, constituted his new tribe. Their food might be primitive, but it filled his belly. Though not generally interested in small talk, he ventured to ask the four Cupiditas who shared his small fire and breakfast, whether they had ideas about why fish did not drown in the water and whether it had anything to do with their blowing bubbles. None of them had ever noticed fish blowing bubbles and none of them found it to be a question that held the least interest. But it was NUT-PI’s captain, HANK man-GER, who took it upon himself to poke fun of POND MUD. 

“So, POND MUD, do all the people of the Veritas speculate on such meaningless and stupid questions or is it only you?” 

POND MUD was not even so skilled as ALT-R in speaking and listening to the strange and toneless language of the Cupiditas, but he knew he was being insulted. He was not in the mood for it. 

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“I’ll show you what we do,” roared POND MUD. He leapt across the small space between them and used a hip throw to toss the Cupiditas captain on the ground. All he had meant to do was blow off some steam and hopefully garner some respect from the Cupiditas. POND MUD had no thought to follow up and hit a man while down. But HANK man-GER now felt his pride had been wounded. From the suddenness and force of the throw, he knew he could not overpower POND MUD, but he did have a trick or two. He lay on his back moaning, rolling slightly from side to side. 

At first, POND MUD felt good to have thrown him down but now he began to worry that he had actually injured his captain. He walked over and knelt beside him asking, “Are you okay?” 

HANK man-GER shook his head piteously, “No, it’s my ankle. I think you broke it!” 

POND MUD felt the ankle with both of his yet skillful hands, looking away from HANK toward his feet and feeling carefully. “No, I don’t feel any….” 

“ARGH!” POND MUD screamed and whirled to see HANK man-GER leaping at him, dagger point first. POND MUD knocked his hand aside but he was a fraction late. HANK had cut him in the side, though not deeply. With a yell, POND MUD, grabbed the hapless fellow around the head and snapped his neck. “Oh, hell! It was self-defense! You all saw it!” POND MUD expected the men to rush at him and kill him or at least imprison him for slaying their captain. But this was not the way of the Cupiditas. POND MUD had ousted HANK in a fair fight — or at least in a fight as fair as they ever were among the Cupiditas. For this reason, despite their underlying contempt for POND MUD, they immediately bowed their heads toward POND MUD and chanted something that could only mean he was their new leader. POND MUD found this extremely odd. Though he had turned traitor to the Veritas, he had grown up among them and he found this custom of replacing a leader by killing odd, exciting, disgusting, and yet it had all worked out. Good, he thought, now I can be their leader. Through gestures and grunts as well as the few words he had picked up, he explained that he was going to show them some of the typical moves of Veritas warriors. Every so often, he glanced at the lifeless crumpled body of HANK man-GER and wondered that no-one seemed concerned with burying the body. With a flush, POND MUD realized that they were waiting for his order. Fine, he thought. “You two! Take this body and bury it so neither bear, nor wolf, nor Veritas may defile it.” So it was done. With some sweat, they dug a fairly shallow grave in the rocky soil and piled many more rocks atop. While they were engaged in this task, POND MUD searched for some medicinal herbs and boiled up a poultice for his wound which was fairly minor. He strapped it tightly to promote healing and prevent infection. 

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POND MUD continued training his new charges in the fighting ways of the Veritas through the afternoon. Concentrating thus, he suddenly realized that the nomads of the south were everywhere! They had come into camp noiselessly, invisibly. Each man wore a long, hooded robe whose shape was difficult to discern because of the camouflage pattern on their robes. 

“Who among you is the leader, for I am now the leader of this band of Cupiditas and will be leading our joint foray. For I know the Veritas and all the paths and byways and will lead us to victory!” He said this in both the tongues of the Veritas and in his broken, nearly unintelligible Cupiditas. He supplemented both of his speeches with sign language. Eventually, he made himself clear whereupon the entire contingent of nomads began laughing. One stepped forward toward POND MUD. 

“I am DAN-ergo CREEP, leader of the southern nomads.” He spoke Veritas! He spoke it well. POND MUD found himself wondering at this, but now at least he could speak more easily. Yet, no matter how he argued or presented his case, the DAN-ergo CREEP kept coming back to a very simple point. The southern nomads greatly outnumbered the small band of Cupiditas and he would therefore be the leader of the army, not POND MUD, the chieftain carefully explained. If he wanted to relay orders to the Cupiditas, fine, but the battle plan would come from DAN-ergo CREEP. On the other hand, the chieftain was glad to have POND MUD’s input on the lay of the land and where the weak points of the Veritas were. POND MUD had enjoyed his brief reign as leader. But he saw that he would have to subordinate himself to this stranger for now or risk losing the help of all the nomads of the south. That would not be something he wanted to explain to NUT-PI or to ALT-R. They would need all their combined strength to enslave the Veritas once and for all. He assented to being under the command of the southern nomad leader and found himself wondering how the advances under KAVA-NUT and NUT-PI were coming. The attack was scheduled for pre-dawn the following morning. Once more, POND MUD found himself relishing the form of She-of-Many-Paths and reminded himself that he would soon own her. Each time he thought of her, he recalled how awkward and stupid she had made him feel. This made him feel angry toward her. And, he also felt guilty about not telling the truth to ALT-R about their accidental encounter. But what would have been the point? ALT-R & NUT-PI would simply have berated him and made him feel stupid. His rage toward She-of-Many-Paths redoubled and he gritted his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fist. He fantasized about all the things he would make her do. 

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Meanwhile, the Veritas were making their plans in light of new information received from KAVA-NUT. In Dialog, they examined the question as to whether they might not find a peaceful way with regard to the nomads of the south, with whom they had generally had good relations. Someone mentioned that “unfortunate incident with Dares-and-Cares.” 

“Unfortunate.” began She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives,  “My that is an interesting word. Anyway, that murderer was a murderer and he happened to be from the tribe of the nomads. I think it would be worth a try to cleave them off from the Cupiditas. But consider, none of us speaks their language with subtlety. If we approach them in numbers, we may very well instigate the very war we seek to avoid. And if we approach with one or a few, we invite capture and torture for information.”

She-of-Many-Paths sensed that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had more in her heart than what she said. But the shaman always showed wisdom in what she said and what she did not say. She-of-Many-Paths made a mental note to ask her further in private. However, and much to her surprise, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives rose and continued speaking while pacing back and forth. “I see that She-of-Many-Paths knows there is more in my heart than what I have said. That is true. Before most of you were born, I loved a man whom the tribe called Dares-and-Cares for he was both extremely brave and extremely caring. Before we could become one, he agreed to a dangerous errand for the tribe, traveling alone to the land where dwell the nomads of the south in order to advance the idea of further trade. Before he reached their center space, however, he was attacked and murdered by a band of such nomads. They stole his possessions and stole the heart of my heart as well.”   

After a respectful silence, Shadow Walker asked, “Then, why did you not tell us so that we may be forewarned of the Nomads of the South?” 

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“Exactly for that reason. There are important lessons to be learned from such events, but under such circumstances of sorrow and deep hurt, it is easy to draw the wrong lesson. It is easy to conclude, though logic would not support it, that all the Nomads of the South are bad just based on this one incident. That is precisely how wars start. One stupid over-generalization leads to another. Such a path of reasoning was even more likely because, you see, I partly blamed myself. I had seen such possible danger, but could not convince him to go with many guards. He was concerned that such a show of force might encourage attack. I saw the wisdom in this. After all, he was called Dares-and-Cares. This was his nature. And though I am called “She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives”, you see, I was unable to save the one life I cared most about. It would be very easy under such a circumstance to fear and therefore hate all the Nomads of the South. Yet, this would be an error. Such is not the way of the Veritas.

“Nor is such the way of the Nomads either, for they considered the attack a crime and the responsible thieves were killed and both the body and possessions were returned to us. The truth is almost never so simple as we might like it to be. Some among the Veritas were then roused to anger for Dares-and-Cares was well beloved by the tribe and not only by me.”

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives now turned to speak directly to She-of-Many-Paths. “Luckily, cooler heads prevailed. I tell you this now because I know that your mind and your heart, are prepared to accept truth in its complexity and not in some over simple version. You see how it is. It’s important to know that water flows downhill. Yet, it is also the nature of water to bend and turn this way and that, thus avoiding obstacles. Trees grow up toward the sun. Yet, as we proved with the experiment in hiding the cave, trees may be bent away from their natural predisposition. We cannot tell about a whole people from a few examples. Imagine that other tribes thought that KAVA-NUT, ALT-R and POND MUD proved the nature of the Veritas. Three blackberries rotten with mold do not mean one must never eat of such. Though it is important to remove the moldy ones quickly or they may indeed rot the whole.” 

She-of-Many-Paths offered to go and parley with POND MUD and the nomads of the south. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives looked long and hard into the heart of She-of-Many-Paths. “You have already shown yourself to be fine thinker and a fine leader. The people need you as a leader even more than they need your bravery.”

“I do see the wisdom of your words, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Yet, how could I lead my people in possibly fatal battle if I am unwilling to risk my own life. I will not be a leader who puts others at risk but never puts myself at risk. Such a person is not a leader. Not really. And, if I ever need to ask the people on a difficult path, they must believe I am willing myself to walk any such difficult path.” 

Shadow Walker spoke next, “Let us go together then, She-of-Many-Paths. If there is trouble, I can hold them off perhaps until you can retreat to safety.” 

“I will fight beside you if necessary, Shadow Walker. I have no desire to… I would be greatly troubled if you died in battle and particularly so if I used that opportunity to escape. I wish we could call POND MUD as easily as the wolves can call each other. I feel his heart is troubled. But approaching him is indeed dangerous in this current circumstance.” 

Eagle Eyes added, “I wish I could call to him, as easily as I do the eagles.” All in earshot thought on this image in silence. 

Trunk-of-Tree then stood up suddenly and spoke, “But we can!” 

She-of-Many-Paths said, “What do you mean, Trunk-of-Tree? Scream like an eagle? Howl like a wolf?” 

“No,” said Trunk-of-Tree, “but we all learn to speak with drums!”   

“This is true!” said She-of-Many-Paths. “We can encourage POND MUD to come parley with us and hopefully to bring the head of the nomads of the south. If the two of them come alone, we will parley. If they do not come, we wait for their advance or wait them out and attack them first. But in neither case, must one or two go alone and put themselves in grave danger.” 

Fleet-of-Foot spoke thus, “You are brilliant, She-of-Many-Paths!” 

“Thanks you for saying so, Fleet-of-Foot, but this idea came from Trunk-of-Tree, not me. Where shall we set up our signal drum?” 

Eagle Eyes chimed in eagerly, “I know just the spot! Up on that cliff is the perfect place. Too far from the enemy to be shot by an arrow. It’s above the tree line so the sound will carry across that plain below. Also, behind where I point, the rock is curved and this somehow makes the sound stronger and travel farther. If one plays loudly and slowly, POND MUD cannot fail to hear it, though what he might or might not do is anyone’s guess.”  

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“So,” asked She-of-Many-Paths, “What, exactly, do we tell POND MUD? He is the only one who will know what the drums mean. At least, I am fairly sure of that. Do we offer him a chance to rejoin the tribe?” 

Shadow-Walker snorted, “None have been banished and then rejoined the tribe. None banished have ever been heard from again. They all should have died. We cannot offer him a place back in the tribe. This has never been done in memory. Has it?” Here he looked at She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. 

“I have not heard of such,” said the Shaman. “That does not mean it is not here the correct path. Would it encourage others to bear false witness as POND MUD and ALT-R have done? I do not judge it so. But I question whether we could ever actually trust any of them again. It is good to try to trust, but that trio has broken our trust many times now.” 

“Indeed,” said Eagle Eyes. “It seems to me that the shape of their soul is too defined now for change. And, worse, as you pointed out, one moldy blackberry can spoil everything. For everyone.”

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“I think it would have been more merciful to have killed all three of them outright,” said Fleet-of-Foot. “Had we done that, we wouldn’t be on this precipice of disaster. And they deserved to die. That’s surely what happens to most who are banished anyway.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke softly. “I cannot say that I have no desire to see them dead — all three of them — and not only for what they tried to do to me, but also — and more so — for betraying our people. On the other hand, we have learned much important intelligence from POND MUD’s conversation with She-of-Many-Paths and from the angry ravings of KAVA NUT. I find that it pleases me greatly to see him hanging there eyeless. But I do not like being pleased by his suffering, however much he deserves it. I do not want to become the kind of monster that they are.”

She-of-Many-Paths spoke next, “Time is not our friend. We do not know when the Cupiditas will attack on the Middle Path. We must act quickly. Since we do not know our own mind, why not simply avoid making any specific promises? We tell POND MUD the truth — that we do not yet know whether he can ever be a member of our tribe again; that some speak for it and some speak against it. It will depend on what transpires, what he tells us, and upon what the nomads of the south do, and upon what all of the people of the Veritas decide. We can only promise that if he comes to parley, we will not ambush and kill him. I think he will know from his long years of experience with us that we will be true to our words, for that is the very essence of the Veritas. He will be free to rejoin his new tribe and fight with them; to fight with us, under supervision, or indeed, to walk his own way. We should begin by reminding POND MUD that he is one of us, and therefore once beloved among the Veritas.” 

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So, it came to pass that the drumming began and was easily heard in the camp where the nomads of the south worked with POND MUD and a handful of warriors of the Cupiditas on their plans for conquest. 

DAN-ergo CREEP was the first to comment. “What is this noise? Where is that drumming coming from?” He stared directly and POND MUD as he said this. 

POND MUD answered, “Probably just trying to annoy us and keep us up all night to weaken us for battle, but that’s a stupid plan because it will keep them up as well.”

DAN-ergo CREEP thought perhaps there was more to it than annoyance. “If it’s just to annoy, why is it so regular? Not quite a dance, but … does it mean anything?”

POND MUD again felt obliged to answer, “No, it’s just stupid. They are drumming about our nice warm cabins and about the quest for the rings of empathy and how … “ And, here he broke off from embarrassment. For the drums were now calling to him specifically and reminding him of how much fun he had had with his friends when they were learning to stalk, and learn the ways of plants and how they healed. And POND MUD realized that She-of-Many-Paths had been the one to show him the plantain and witch hazel leaves that he had used a few hours ago to help prevent infection. The drums now spoke of how POND MUD had won many contests of strength and how all his friends had cheered for him. 

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“WELL?!” DAN-ergo CREEP asked loudly. “What are they drumming on about? If they are telling their battle plans to their scouts, say so! Or, are they signaling only you?” 

“I have no idea what their purpose is, Sire. Partly they are just drumming on about my childhood. Nothing has been mentioned about strategy yet.” 

On and on, the drumming continued. All practice had stopped among the Cupiditas and the Nomads. Everyone became fascinated by the on-again, off-again rhythm and patterns that folded into other patterns. And just when the brain began to predict what might come next, the melody and rhythm would drift off into yet another unexpected dimension. 

POND MUD gave a fairly accurate rendition about the drums but didn’t go into the details about his childhood that he was reminded of. Nor, did he transmit the idea that some, though not all, of the Veritas would consider reinstating him in the tribe. Were they trying to trick him? Could it be true? Maybe they just want to use me to find out about their enemies and then they’ll toss me out again. POND MUD suddenly became aware that he hadn’t said anything out loud for awhile. All the men were staring at him, waiting for him to continue his explanation of the drumming. So, he resumed his real-time and uncommented translation into the Veritas that DAN-ergo CREEP well understood. He in turn, translated into their own tongue. So far as POND MUD could tell, the few Cupiditas among them had no idea what was being transmitted by the drumming. 

“They want me to ask you, that is, the Southern Nomads, what your quarrel is with the Veritas and why you go to war and what you hope to gain from such a war even if successful. They say that they are a peaceful people who have never attacked you and have no desire to do so. The Veritas are a peaceful people. You know this from your own experience. We have never attacked you. And, until now, you have never attacked us. So, why now? What could you possibly gain that you could not gain in trade? Also, consider this; you have also not been attacked by the fierce warriors of the north nor by the Cupiditas. Why? A large part of that reason is that they would have to go through us to get to you, at least by any whatsoever direct route. Though we have no formal agreement, we actually make things more peaceable. Also please consider this. Whatever you have been told as to what you might or might not gain, you have no guarantee that you will gain any of that. The leader of the Cupiditas, NUT-PI cannot be trusted. Nor can the…the…the … don’t know that drumming. Whereas if we promised you something, we would keep that promise. This you know in your heart to be true. All we ask is that POND MUD and the leader of the nomads come parley with two of us alone and let us speak as true siblings about what each other might gain or lose from fighting or not fighting. We drummed to POND MUD because we were afraid to send just a few people into your camp. You might capture such and torture them for information. And, we didn’t want to send a large force into your camp because that might spark the very war we hope to avoid. If you come into the large clearing beneath the flat-topped hill, and stand near the sharp blue rock, you will be able to see that just two of us will approach you for parley. Come now. Come before dark. If you come, we may be able to avoid a war where many will die on both sides. We may fail. But what is the harm in trying? If there is no war, POND MUD can plead his case to rejoin the Veritas though we cannot guarantee that he will be successful. If he prefers, he may live with the Southern Nomads. Or, he may go live with the Cupiditas though it seems the Cupiditas have set their hearts on war. This is a war of their making. Not ours. What they can possibly gain will be little. What they can possibly lose is everything. But of the little they may gain, they will only give any such who help them a small fraction of that tiny gain, regardless of what they may have told you.” The drumming paused for a time and then began the entire message again.

“WELL!?” demanded DAN-ergo CREEP. 

“Well, what?” countered POND MUD. “What is your question?” 

DAN-ergo CREEP gritted his teeth and shook his head, but then he spoke quietly to POND MUD. “Do you think they are telling the truth? And do you think we should go to this parley or is it just a trap? What do you think about what they said? You are from there?”

POND MUD spoke quickly. “Oh, they are telling the truth. Or, at least a part of it. They would consider it a huge dishonor to invite you to a parley and then ambush you. So, it’s not a trick in that way. Though I don’t know why they want to avoid war. But I am pretty sure they do want to avoid it.” 

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DAN-ergo CREEP stared at POND MUD, “Well, maybe they just want to avoid it because they don’t like killing people and being killed. But I am concerned about one thing. They seem to know about us and about the fierce warriors of the north. Yet, NUT-PI’s envoy told us that the Veritas would know nothing about our involvement. And, how did they know you were here, POND MUD? Answer me that?”

“The Veritas are clever. They have good scouts. And some have good eyes. Very good eyes. I’m … well, I’m easy to spot … and everyone from the Veritas would recognize me. As for the rest, I have no idea. My best guess would be the same: the foreword scouts recognized you by your garb and the same for the Northern Warriors.”

DAN-ergo CREEP stared hard at POND MUD. “You sure you are not sending some kind of signal back to them?” 

“No! Of course not! I have had no contact since I was exiled. I saw one of the Veritas, but she didn’t see me. And, I didn’t say anything to her. I don’t like them. They exiled me!”

DAN-ergo considered, “So you say. But I don’t have any independent evidence of that. Do I?” 

POND MUD thought about it. “Well, why would we go to the Cupiditas in the first place if we hadn’t been exiled? It’s much nicer … I mean … we just wouldn’t have any reason to leave the Veritas. She-of-Many…I mean, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives is a good leader and…I think we should go and hear what they have to say. I myself could take any two of the other Veritas in a fight and you’ll be there as well. They won’t ambush us. This I know.” 

After another half hour’s discussion, it was agreed that POND MUD and DAN-ergo CREEP would go to parley. There was some considerable objection raised by the Cupiditas among them but it was short-lived. POND MUD reminded them that he was their leader now. Having a parley would almost certainly not mean no war. But it might give them an opportunity to judge the weaknesses of the Veritas; to plant false information; to intimidate them. 

So it was that POND MUD and DAN-ergo CREEP walked off to the designated place in the clearing. While the chosen spot, it was true, would afford a clear view in all directions, in order to arrive there, they would have to traverse many dangerous places. POND MUD took very little precaution for he was quite sure that the Veritas would not ambush them. He strongly suspected that the entire message of the drums was in earnest, including the part about possibly letting him rejoin the tribe. Did he really want to do that though? Among the Veritas, his strength was just seen as an asset, both to POND MUD himself, and to the tribe as a whole. Among the Cupiditas, however, strength was king. And, he would never be leader of the Veritas. That would be one of the other guys like Fleet-of-Foot or Trunk of Tree or Shadow Walker. Even if they accepted him back, he would never be Ruler of the Veritas. But with ALT-R’s plan, he could be a pretty near thing to a King. And, everyone would have to respect him. Even She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Although She-of-Many-Paths says she was just trying to teach me, not humiliate me. She drives me crazy! They both do! Anyway, ALT-R made the war seem an important and inevitable path. But then, She-of-Many-Paths said I could never trust ALT-R. That he was always out for himself. She doesn’t know! 

“Are you sure you’re on the right path, POND MUD?”

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“WHAT?” DAN-ergo’s question had broken his reverie.  “Oh. Let’s see. Yes, see the light through that line of trees? Once we pass through there, we will descend into that flat plain that the drums spoke of. We’ll be there momentarily.” 

They walked in silence for a moment, when POND MUD spoke to his companion. “I have a question, Sire. In the lands that we call the Southern Nomads, are there any fish that seem to blow bubbles?” 

“Yes. Strange fish in the ocean that raise their young and feed them milk. Yet, they breathe air as do we. Why do you ask?” 

“Well, if you were stuck in quicksand, what would you do to stay alive?” 

“Quicksand? You know of such places? There are some indeed in the driest part of the desert. You may walk across a dune and suddenly, you find yourself falling and suffocate under the sand. One of our own seems to have vanished this way just the spring before last.” 

POND MUD thought this answer odd. He decided not to pursue it just then because people always thought it strange when he asked about quicksand and blowing bubbles to stay alive. Why would his friend, ALT-R, make him blow bubbles with his face in the mud unless it was necessary? But how had ALT-R learned about it when no-one else seemed to know anything about this method of defeating quicksand? 

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Soon, POND MUD and DAN-ergo CREEP found themselves in an open space which afforded an easy and unobstructed view in each direction. DAN-ergo CREEP did not seriously doubt that he could outrun an approaching ambush unless somehow it came from behind them. They would have a long head start to return to the camp of the Southern Nomads. DAN-ergo had his doubts about POND MUD however. He was stocky and looked as though he could sprint quickly if his life depended on it. Whether he could run for some distance though – that seemed in doubt. And, though his wound was superficial, it would slow him down. DAN-ergo did not much care for this stranger and if it came to it, he supposed he must run back to the camp of his people. It would be stupid and useless to try to defend POND MUD against so many. 

In the distance, DAN-ergo could see two lone forms emerging from the forest and traveling down a grassy knoll toward the open plain. They came alone and seemingly unarmed. 

As they drew nearer, POND MUD recognized the two as She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow Walker. They are no match for the two of us, thought POND MUD. But how are they going to trick us? As they drew nearer, She-of-Many-Paths hailed them. 

“Thank you for agreeing to parley, POND MUD and you sir, whatever your name might be. Rest assured, we mean you no harm and none of our countrymen are even within bowshot.” Again, this was strictly true though another flicker of conscience batted at She-of-Many-Paths for they had arranged for Eagle Eyes and Fleet of Foot, among others, to be watching closely and if it looked as though harm were about to befall the two Veritas, wolves and eagles would be upon the group very quickly, though possibly not so quickly as to prevent the loss of two so beloved as were She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow Walker. “I am known as She-of-Many-Paths.” 

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“And I am known among my people as Shadow Walker.” 

“Well met,” began DAN-ergo CREEP. “I am called DAN-ergo CREEP among my people. I am the leader of those among the Nomads of the South who chose to follow the wishes of NUT-PI of the Cupiditas. We call our people SABRA. And, I believe you already know my companion, so named POND MUD.” 

“Well met, indeed.” She-of-Many-Paths had now approached the two quite closely. She nodded to POND MUD and then to DAN-ergo. “POND MUD. DAN-ergo CREEP. Before our armies launch their bodies at each other, I thought we should take a moment even on this precipice of war to understand whether this is indeed something we really and truly wish to do. For, DAN-ergo CREEP, we have no quarrel with the SABRA. None. And, for our part, we are frankly astounded that you should want to have war with us. As we communicated with our drums…I assume POND MUD told you what they said? Is this correct?” Her penetrating eyes darted between their faces and she could see that it was so though DAN-ergo nodded his assent. 

“Indeed. That is why I am here,” he said. “Why we are here. You say you have no quarrel with us, yet your leader, as I understand it, may well have a grudge against us because some few of us attacked and killed one that she found favor with.” 

“You are correct, DAN-ergo CREEP, that she found favor with the one we called Dares-and-Cares. But her understanding, and therefore the understanding of the Veritas, is that this was not the act of your people but of a few criminals amongst you. Is this so?”

“It is so. And we found and punished the murderers and returned the body and the stolen goods to the Veritas.” 

“Exactly so. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives holds no grudge against a people based upon the acts of a few. She encouraged us to try to find a path to our mutual benefit that does not cross a quicksand of war that will swallow so many of both our countrymen. So, I ask you, please tell me, quite frankly, what you hope to gain.” 

“NUT-PI said — I should say swore — promised — that we would learn the craft of making water skins that will not leak but keep water fresh and cool for long travels.” 

She-of-Many-Paths nodded, and asked, “Is that all?” 

“It may seem a simple thing but you have water in your lands in every season. For us, it is important.” 

“I don’t doubt it. It can be easily arranged without war. Is that all he promised?”

“Well, he said that we could be overlords of the Veritas and have first choice of the spoils of war and the many fine foods that are in your storehouses. And, as well, have first choice of slaves from among the women and children.” 

“I suspected as much,” DAN-ergo CREEP, for he promised the same exact thing to the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. And, I would well imagine, though I know it not for a fact, that he has also promised this to his own warriors as well. Do you not also think this likely?”

POND MUD’s face grew cloudy and he knit his brows together and frowned. He clenched his teeth. DAN-ergo had ordered POND MUD to stay silent in these negotiations, but he could not help himself from breaking in. 

“That’s a lie! You are quite wrong, She-of-Many-Paths! He promised that to ALT-R and me. We will be overlords of the Veritas and take you as my slave! Just as I told you when we met!” 

DAN-ergo regarded POND MUD. “Met? When did you two meet?” 

She-of-Many-Paths answered, “Oh, we chanced to meet some days ago while POND MUD was scouting out our guard positions. I assume he told you about that. I am not lying, POND MUD. I do not think you are lying either in that NUT-PI made such promises to you and ALT-R. But now it appears that he promised this as well to the fierce and formidable warriors of the north and to the nomads of the south, the SABRA. I must add something else here, DAN-ergo CREEP. I do not well know the ways of your people, but among the Veritas, all are prepared to fight to the death and die rather than become slaves. That includes all the women and children as well. If you capture any Veritas and make them slaves, your booty will be small indeed consisting only of a score of infants who would be quite useless to you until you had fed and clothed them for at least five or six years. We have some food in storage. That much is true. But I promise you that we are poised to make such food of much less value than you might think should it appear that you are going to win victory over the Veritas.” 

She-of-Many-Paths then added, “I have presented you with much information, I see. I have a proposal. Shadow Walker and I shall go now and return presently with several such water skins as you seek filled with cool and refreshing water. This will give you time to think upon what I have said. When we return, we may parley further. Meanwhile, you two may hold your own council. Ask POND MUD whether he thinks I speak true. Is this acceptable?”

“It is.” DAN-ergo CREEP admitted to himself that he was impressed with this — woman — of such a young age — yet so filled with clarity and confidence. The two Veritas turned and walked away. DAN-ergo began to think that if they really returned with such water skins, that in itself could be seen as a kind of victory when he returned to his people. He questioned POND MUD and found that nothing he said indicated that the Veritas were a duplicitous people. In fact, the more he spoke with POND MUD, the less it made any sense to him that he voluntarily left his people in order to throw his lot in with the Cupiditas. But why, he wondered, were they banished? 

Presently, as promised, the same two of the Veritas returned with three water-tight containers filled with fresh water and hauled on a travois. While the water skins had been filled and the travois had been loaded, She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow Walker quickly relayed the intelligence they had learned including most importantly that NUT-PI had promised the same “spoils of war” to everyone he could think of and that the SABRA, or at least one such, had a very shifty camouflage outfit. 

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She-of-Many-Paths began, “Here as promised are some water skins filled with cool water. These are a gift, plain and simple. But as you say, we have plenty of fresh water and would be glad to trade you for many more. Refresh yourselves and we may talk further.” 

DAN-ergo CREEP looked at Shadow Walker carefully as he made his next comment. “Among the SABRA, it would be rude for us to drink first. You, fine lady, show us the way. You must drink first. That is polite.” 

She-of-Many-Paths smiled. She was not in the least fooled by this charade, but was prepared. “Of course! Thank you! It was, I must admit, hard work to drag this water out here and I am thirsty.” She deftly began to unseal one of the water skins, but stopped. “Oh, DAN-ergo, which one would you like me to partake of?” 

He silently pointed, still watching carefully the face of Shadow Walker. “That one.” No reaction. “Wait, wait. That one, I should think.” She-of-Many-Paths began to unseal another. “NO! Wait. That one!” Now, She-of-Many-Paths laughed. “You are right to be cautious DAN-ergo CREEP. We need to learn to trust each other. That takes time. But I shall take a small sip from each of the three as will Shadow Walker. You watch us carefully and you will see no sign, however small, of poison. You will simply see us slake our thirst as you might.” The two from the Veritas so drank and then motioned for their counterparts to drink as well. “By the way,” she added. You may keep the travois as well to transport this back to your camp.”  

She-of-Many-Paths continued, saying that after the Cupiditas are vanquished, one or two of the Nomads of the South would be welcome to come and stay with the Veritas to learn the way of making such water skins and other such craft as they might find useful. 

“And in return?” asked DAN-ergo after he took a sip and handed the skin to POND MUD. 

“In return, simply live in peace,” said She-of-Many-Paths. Though I believe that two of our people might choose to come and live with you for a time to learn some of your ways such as those very tricky camouflage robes you have. I have in mind two such that might prove mutually beneficial. Among us is one we call, Eyes of Eagle who has long studied birds of prey and could teach you how to use them for messages and even to fight. She is quite talented in the ways of shapes and there is much to be learned from her if she would so choose to join you for a time. Also, the one we call “Fleet of Foot” might want to visit for a time as well. As you might guess from his name, he is a very fast runner. Aside from that, he has a talent for making things that appeal to popular taste. The two of them are friends, so they might wish to come together. Since you trade with many other tribes, he might prove valuable in these trades and how to make your wares appeal to those who might want them, especially when cleverly arranged.”

“That’s it? We simply exchange and learn from each other? You want nothing more?”

She-of-Many-Paths tilted her head. “You say, ‘nothing more’ but to the Veritas, exchanging knowledge hard won over many generations is no small thing. It is much more precious gift than any possible spoils of war. Even if you were to take every ear of corn and every cassava root in our storehouse, it would last you less than a year. Knowledge though? That can help your people for all time. That is how the Veritas think.”

“She-of-Many-Paths, you are far too wise for one so young. But nothing more?”

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“It is a small thing but our leader, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives gave me once a taste of that spice which I believe you call cinnamon. It is quite delicious! But it need not be a gift. We would be happy to trade with you: such a spice for that which you may find pleasing among our wares, medicines, or foods. Perhaps you also have other interesting and wonderful spices. I think that there is much we could learn from each other. We have no real quarrel with you; nor, so far as I can see, you have no real quarrel with us either. It is only a manufactured quarrel for the good of neither us nor you. It only benefits NUT-PI whose purpose, I ken, is to weaken all other tribes, not just the Veritas, but also the Fierce and Formidable warriors of the north and your own tribe as well. The Cupiditas themselves are a proud strong people, but it seems that they have no love of the truth and therefore they find it very hard to learn from one generation to the next. They forever change their stories to make their leader look much better than he in fact is. POND MUD, you have been living with them and planning with them. Do you agree with my assessment?”

POND MUD turned red. “You’re asking for my advice? You?” 

She-of-Many-Paths chucked. “Does this surprise you so? You know more about the Cupiditas than I do. Or DAN-ergo. I think all of us would like to hear of your observations.” 

POND MUD looked about him as though the correct answer might appear among the scattered rocks. “I don’t know. They have many weapons. Their leader is chosen by feats of strength which suits me just fine. Instead of stupid tests. But their head leader, NUT-PI appears neither strong nor quick though he is plenty cruel. I can vouch for that. They do not really have cabins such as ours. They have little more than lean-tos which are forever falling down. I could push down any one of them with one smash of my arm. Our cabins are stronger. Much stronger. And just because I can’t push one down — it doesn’t mean I am not stronger than an ant!”

She-of-Many-Paths sighed and shook her head slowly from side to side. Is there no end to POND MUD’s obsession with his own power in comparison to others, she thought to herself. Aloud, however, she said this: “I have no doubt you are very strong indeed POND MUD. I have never doubted that. But the question is, what can you tell us of the Cupiditas? And, you must decide who are your real people. If you come back to the Veritas now, you must needs be imprisoned until this battle is won or lost. If the Veritas lose, perhaps your friends will find you and set you free, through I must tell you frankly that I doubt it will come to be the case. If the Veritas win, we will soon hold a council and decide whether to annul your banishment. If you prefer, you may go back the way you came and join up with the Cupiditas for I sense that DAN-ergo and the Nomads of the South have no real purpose in this war. Do you agree, DAN-ergo?”

“I do indeed. I could use your help, POND MUD, in taking these water skins back to my people. After that, you may follow us back to our lands and join us, or walk back here to join with the Veritas or if you so choose, join up with and lead your small band of Cupiditas to attack your former homeland. That choice, I leave to you. But the path of peace is a place of cool, fresh water. The path of war in this strange land is a path of heat and death unneeded. I shall counsel my people to be at peace with your people, She-of-Many-Paths, though they are a free people and I cannot compel them to leave off war-making.”

“I don’t know what to do,” said POND MUD. “I want to rejoin the Veritas, but you have no such guarantee. I am the leader of a band of Cupiditas. They respect me. But…I do not trust their leader. I need to talk with ALT-R. He would advise me well. I will go back with you two. But no, I should go back to the Cupiditas. I am their captain. I don’t know! Why do you always confuse me so, She-of-Many-Paths!?” 

She-of-Many-Paths tried to look into the heart of POND MUD and she could see that his confusion was genuine. He still put his faith in ALT-R though he had tricked POND MUD many times that she knew of and probably many other times she did not know of. For that was the way of ALT-R. “POND MUD, how about this plan. Help DAN-ergo CREEP take this water back to his people. If you return alone here before darkness descends on this day, you may find your way back to the Veritas through the gap in that line of trees. You have that long to make up your mind. If we see you tomorrow or the next day, we will have to assume you are an enemy and that will be unfortunate. I give you no guarantees because, as the drums foretold, there are some among the Veritas who have no desire to see you at all let alone to annul your banishment. Yet, you are not without friends among the Veritas and some will argue for your reintroduction into the tribe. So, take a chance on the verdict or don’t. You are no longer a child, POND MUD. You must make your own decision, just as DAN-ergo CREEP has done.” 

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POND MUD and DAN-ergo began pulling the travois back toward camp. When they reached the camp, DAN-ergo quickly recounted what had transpired with regards to his own people. He said nothing of the words that had to do with POND MUD and his decision. The people of SABRA looked at each other and at their leader as they enjoyed taking turns with the cool water. They left the camp late that very afternoon, to a man. They did not want to be anywhere near the camp of the Cupiditas when fighting began on the morrow. 

POND MUD revealed nothing to the Cupiditas regarding his offer of possible reintegration with the Veritas. Why should he? Of course, it was demoralizing to the Cupiditas for the southern nomads to leave which they did quickly and efficiently, seeming to vanish as quietly and invisibly as they had come. They looked for reassurance to their new leader, POND MUD. POND MUD said that he was going to sneak into the camp of the Veritas which he could easily do because he knew these lands so well. He would overhear their plans and return before dawn and lead his small contingent to where it would do the most good until they met up with the much larger force on the Middle Path. He stole away under a starry sky, still not sure what he would do. 

When first light came, a small band of the Cupiditas found themselves alone in a strange land with no allies and no leader and no plan. A glow in the east grew rosy and then orange and then a bright yellow. They argued amongst themselves as to what to do. Many plans were advanced. But without a leader, they had no way to settle on a plan or to test their ideas. At last, one of their number, a man named NINA-TOP declared himself the leader and said that they would march due North until they met up with the main force of the Cupiditas and there they would no doubt receive further instructions. 

AILS-HER, challenged this plan as being too little too late. He argued that they should charge as planned along the Southern Path. Soon, the two were locked in mortal combat to see who should lead this small band. Whereas the Veritas knew many methods of deciding among alternative paths, the Cupiditas only knew one: Might makes Right. In this case, neither emerged as victor; they murdered each other, as sometimes happened among that tribe. 

None of the few remaining Cupiditas, however, felt like fighting to the death with the most recent such deadly incident fresh in their minds. One suggested a path they all agreed on however. They decided that since their force was too small to make much difference, they would make their way slowly along the Southern Path. If they found strong resistance, they would retreat. But if they found no resistance, they would wander into the Central Place of the Veritas and steal, enslave, or rape as they could. If NUT-PI questioned their late arrival, they would simply say they were overwhelmed by a strong force of the Veritas. It was so agreed, and around mid-day, they began a slow march on the Southern Path. By evening, they had come to the great flat plain of the parley that had taken place earlier in the day. As they marched up the gentle slope toward the line of large white oaks, swords drawn in case of any approaching enemy, they suddenly found themselves assailed by deadly arrows. In an instant, more than half their number began screaming and thrashing on the ground. The few remaining Cupiditas turned and ran back down the slope. Another hail of arrows found their mark. A handful of remaining Cupiditas threw down their weapons and begged that their unseen enemy show them mercy. 

Thus ended the battle of the Southern Path. A great battle was avoided because some few of the Veritas had pursued peace up to the very precipice of war. Yet, a powerful force of Cupiditas still strove forward on the Middle Path toward the Center Place of the Veritas. In this Center Place, were many women and children of the Veritas though if the Cupiditas thought they were helpless, they would be seriously mistaken. And there too was POND MUD in his stockade where he could look out and see a blue sky and the thin, eyeless figure of KAVA-NUT. He awaited the outcome of the coming battle to see who his true people were; that is, the victors. For POND MUD now very much subscribed to the central doctrine of the Cupiditas that might makes right. He liked feeling strong and thinking of pros and cons and consequences of this plan and that plan made him feel weak. He wanted always to know what path to take for certain. He wished ALT-R would get here soon and release him so they could rule Veritas together. The words of She-of-Many-Paths kept returning to his mind and when they did, he shouted, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” His screams were heard by many and they puzzled at them for no-one was speaking to POND MUD and very few would speak for him.  

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Magic Portal to Other Worlds

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle on the Northern Path

23 Tuesday Oct 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

battle, empathy, myth, politics, strategy, treason, truth, Veritas, war

The Battle on the Northern Path. 

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She-of-Many-Paths walked among the Veritas accompanied by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and Shadow-Walker. They wanted to ensure that whatever of importance that one Veritas knew, they all knew. Mainly, however, they encouraged each of the Veritas to be ready in mind, body, and spirit. Such preparations included not only guards and warriors but every person except for infants in arms. Mothers taught their toddlers how and where to hide and each such mother was well prepared to defend their own home with weapons and skill and strength of body and strength of resolve. While on one of these walks of encouragement and knowledge sharing, the three came upon a curious sight. Eagle Eyes lay face down upon the ground obviously concentrating on something though what was not obvious. She heard the others coming and motioned for them to approach slowly. “Come,” she whispered. “Watch this.” 

So the trio approached quietly and slowly. At first, they saw nothing unusual. Then, She-of-Many-Paths noticed a slight hole in the ground in the shape of a fairy ring mushroom cap turned upside down. Why this held the attention of Eagle Eyes was not clear, but she did like unusual shapes. At the bottom of this small funnel however, She-of-Many-Paths saw two tiny twigs sticking out. As she drew closer, she saw that these sticks were serrated. She slowly knelt on the ground beside Eagle Eyes and then lay on her belly. With her eyes thus very close indeed, she saw that the “twigs” actually consisted of insect jaws. Before long, an ant came along and began to traverse the hole. Then, a very strange and wondrous thing happened. The ant slipped! It grew agitated and began scrambling to climb right back out of the hole. Yet, as it did so, its feet slipped still more so that soon it found itself falling toward the vortex at the center. For an instant, the tiny creature seemed to catch some purchase and made progress toward the rim. Then, the ant lion began tossing sand above the position of the ant and the sand thus cast fell toward the center and made the ant’s feels slip again. At last, her legs still scrambling, the hapless ant slipped into the center of the hole and thus into the jaws of the waiting ant lion who grabbed the ant and slammed it into the sides of the hole driving the ant lion’s jaws deeper into the struggling body of the ant. In a few seconds, it was devoured.

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She-of-Many-Paths gasped and looked at Eagle Eyes whose large brown eyes locked with her own as she smiled a truer smile than She-of-Many-Paths had seen on the face of Eagle Eyes for quite awhile. 

“That’s amazing, Eagle Eyes, but how can this be? Ants can climb anything. They climb up trees! How can they slip and fail to escape this path that the ant lion desires them to take?” 

“Indeed! That is the question I asked myself! The ant lion is quite precise in the shape, you see. It makes the sides of the hole precisely steep enough. If they were any shallower, the ant could escape. If they were any steeper, the grains of soil would slip of their own accord. As it is, the sides are stable, but only so long as even such a tiny creature as an ant does not tread on it. When that happens, the soil begins to slip and most such creatures fall into the center of such pits though a few do manage to escape.” 

Shadow-Walker had gotten down on the ground to observe as well. “That’s interesting all right. But you do know we have a battle approaching some time soon. We must prepare.”

“Indeed, Shadow-Walker, my thought exactly,” said Eagle Eyes. “You know that steep hill that overlooks the flat green valley by the aspen grove?” 

“Yes, a hill both steep and treacherous because of the small loose stones…oh…are you thinking…?” questioned Shadow-Walker. 

“Yes! We can make it even more treacherous by adding even more such stones. Warriors very much prefer higher ground and very much to run downhill rather than uphill. Is this not true?”

Shadow-Walker could hardly contain his excitement now. “Yes! Yes! I see! We can contrive to have them run at us down this steep hill, thus carefully prepared. At the bottom of such a hill, they will think to see a great victory, but we will prepare our own jaws of death. Clever, Eagle Eyes!” 

“It’s a wonderful idea, Eagle Eyes!” She-of-Many-Paths was also excited. “How long will it take to prepare the hill with more loose stones?” 

“That part is already done. But I wanted to study further to see if I overlooked anything. And, I’ve already posted enough of the four-rock signs of danger so our own people in their travels here and there do not accidentally fall on this hill now so slippery.” Now, a genuine and full smile appeared on the face of Eagle Eyes. She called out, “Fleet-of-Foot! Come hither!” 

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True to his name, Fleet-of-Foot appeared momentarily. He saw the four of them and quickly comprehended the situation. “Ah, I see you’ve shared our plans. Did you tell them of the markings?”

She-of-Many-Paths asked, “Markings? What markings?”

Now Eagle Eyes laughed slightly. “Even though they call me Eagle Eyes, it was really Fleet-of-Foot who first noticed them. There are markings of charcoal on many trees near our guard posts. At first, we only saw one. Then, another. We thought perhaps some child was practicing his or her drawing skills, but they showed no creative variation and there were too many even for the most obsessive among us. We believe they were put there to guide our enemies. So, we added quite a few, many of which lead to the hill of slippery rocks. But we added others leading to the quicksand and that nasty briar patch of old blackberry bushes by the red boulder.” 

Eagle Eyes had a far-away look in her eyes. “I find it very interesting that a shallow slope may be traversed but as it grows steeper and steeper, at some point, it becomes impossible to climb or avoid falling. This gives me an idea about the broad fresh rapid river that grows among the willows and aspens near our center place. We may walk across such a river though many have slipped and none dare try at full flood. But perhaps we could change the shape of such a river so none might walk across. Cousin beaver sometimes builds a dam to change a stream into a lake. Perhaps, he could prove helpful. Can you join me, Fleet-of-Foot? Let us examine our stream.” Off went the two of them. 

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She-of-Many-Paths and She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives continued on their walk to encourage hearts and share knowledge. Shadow Walker said that he would stay behind to try to better understand how slope that is difficult to climb becomes slope that is impossible to climb and seek other new tools of warfare.

As the two women walked between encampments, She-of-Many-Paths grew silent, clearly lost in thought. At last, she sighed and turned to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and spoke quietly. “How does it come to pass that one so promising as ALT-R becomes a traitor? And, what of POND MUD? He was never the brightest amongst us, but he seemed to have a good heart. And, what are we to make of the Cupiditas? Is there no path to peace that does not require the destruction of enemies?” 

“I have been searching for just such a path as you speak of all my life. Indeed, many arguments among the Veritas, I have settled, even among the angry, so that no blood was shed and the people became whole again. Trust is much like a bridge. It takes skill and patience to build but only one raging flash flood to break it down and wash away all traces that it ever existed. Beyond the gathering of the corn and the singing of songs, we must continue to search — you may continue to search for such a path, if you so choose. I hope that you find a path without death that can lead from war to peace where I have failed. We may arrange circumstances in many ways to encourage truth and peace. In the end, however, ALT-R chose to feed the evil wolf within himself though I had hoped he would not. KAVA-NUT chose a similar path. POND MUD felt himself inferior in thinking and superior in physical strength so perhaps it is not surprising that he chose power over truth and to follow the devious and self-serving ways of ALT-R. 

“As for the Cupiditas, so far as I can tell, their ways encourage the path of power over truth. There may be a few among them who long for a different and more harmonious path, but it would be difficult for any such person to follow the path of a true heart. I hope at long last that they may find value in emulating at least some of the ways of the Veritas. A people who rule themselves without regard to the truth may grow for a time just as a seedling might in a dark cave. But without sunlight, it will shrivel and die. Without truth, a people will die one way or another. 

“We may encourage our cousins the rattlesnakes and bears not to attack us and mainly they are wise enough not to do so. But if they do, then sometimes we must kill to stay alive. This too is the way of life, after all. If we have erred by showing too much mercy to KAVA-NUT, ALT-R and POND MUD, we will pay a steep price indeed. 

“Listen well, She-of-Many-Paths, for I must ask you now a great favor and extract a great promise. I know that you and Shadow Walker are both wise and brave. You would gladly fight to the death to defend your home and your tribe and your friends. However, if you judge that the Veritas are to be wholly vanquished, promise me that you and Shadow Walker, will not fight to the death but instead leave this place and go elsewhere to find a new home. When you are numerous enough and strong enough, your children’s children’s children must be wise enough to know whether it becomes desirable to reclaim these sacred lands or to simply live where you are and prosper. That I cannot foresee. But you must survive and the stories of the Veritas must as well.”

“NO! I will never abandon you and my friends! You ask too much! How could I…?” protested She-of-Many-Paths. 

“Yet ask I must. You know our ways. You know them well and you are wise beyond your years. And, you must become the seeds of a new tribe of the Veritas. Remember well the teachings. And, if by chance you are enslaved, you must still remember the teachings and pass them on secretly until such time and circumstance permit you to reclaim your freedom and retake these sacred lands. You and Shadow Walker must not die but must instead ensure that our people and our ways survive. Promise me. You will find a path to victory at last, even if that path must of necessity begin in fleeing or enslavement.”  

She-of-Many-Paths shook her head. “It is much that you ask, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives! Yet, I do see the wisdom of your words. Whether I can convince Shadow Walker, however, I do not know. Let us first work toward victory however.” 

“Indeed, I am hopeful. Though the Cupiditas are fierce fighters, I believe them too few to overcome us. Their entire society is based on power and their avoidance of the truth will inevitably be their own downfall. Whether that will happen soon or many seasons hence, we cannot foresee. We must therefore prepare for many contingencies. And, for that, you are indeed, well-suited, She-of-Many-Paths. Very well-suited indeed.”   

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Meanwhile, the Cupiditas made their own final preparations. NUT-PI, after careful consideration, had decided to put poison on the weapons of some of his favorite and most trusted warriors. These were the leaders of the three bands and their captains. Of course, he did not tell them he was putting poison on the weapons for fear that they would realize that this was how he had won his position of power in the first place. Rather the told them that he had imbued their weapons with a magic spell of power that would make their spears and arrows even stronger and more powerful. “Now, listen carefully, warriors! This spell of power will make your weapons more powerful but do not attempt to engage this power yourselves! It is a power that I alone can control. So keep your hands away from the tips of your spears and the tips of your arrows lest you ruin the magic!” He also admonished his special cadre of troops to keep the knowledge of the spell he had cast on their weapons to themselves and not to share what he had done with the other warriors. “Let them believe that it is only because I find favor in you and they will marvel at your strength and effectiveness.” 

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NUT-PI’s servants called the whole of the Cupiditas to come to hear the words of their great leader. 

“Hear me well, oh, people of the Cupiditas, who rightly own all that is in this valley farther than the eye can see. Too long have we shared these lands with the Veritas who prove themselves deceptive and unworthy at every turn. Now, we have contrived to destroy their warriors, steal their possessions, and enslave their women and children! Hurrah!” 

The crowd enthusiastically shouted “HURRAH!  Enslave them! Enslave them! Murder them! Murder them!” 

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NUT-PI smiled with pleasure at how easily led or misled were most of the Cupiditas. ALT-R shouted along with the rest, but secretly felt ashamed that his adopted tribe was so mindless in their obedience to NUT-PI. Then, he realized that he was manipulating POND MUD in much the same way. 

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NUT-PI continued. “We are stronger than the Veritas! And, we know where all their lookouts are. We will sneak in at dusk and kill all their lookouts. Then, right before dawn, we will attack on three fronts to overwhelm them and destroy them. We will have three armies attack on three paths. The first one to overrun their central village will have first pick of the women and children to enslave. But there will plenty of spoils for everyone. The Veritas have no idea we are even going to attack them. They stupidly feel confident that they outnumber us. Here, they are wrong. For I have used my power to summon allies to help us. The fierce warriors of the north will follow us in on the northern path to glory and the nomads to the south will follow us in on the southern path to glory. Why? Because of my brilliant negotiations with them. The fierce warriors of the north will gain by learning the way of the sharp barbed arrowhead from the enslaved Veritas and the nomads of the south will gain by learning the way of unleaking water casks from the enslaved Veritas.” In truth, these promises had been made. However, he had also promised the fierce warriors of the north that they could have most of the spoils of war including first pick of the women and children. He had made that same promise to the nomads of the south; namely, that they could have most of the spoils of war including first pick among the women and children. NUT-PI well knew that he could not keep both promises along with the promises made to his own people. That was a problem for another day, however. Right now, he needed to reassure his people and drive them to a killing frenzy. He led them in more chanting: “KILL THE VERITAS! ENSLAVE THE VERITAS! KILL THEM! ENSLAVE THEM!” 

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Thus, it came to pass that midday of the first empty moon beyond the summer solstice, nearly all of the Cupiditas warriors left their camp on a great march toward the lands of the Veritas, there to meet up with a large band of fierce warriors from the north. Those of the Cupiditas were led by INGO RICHES, though KAVA NUT was their guide. INGO RICHES carried a battle axe and a long spear enchanted by NUT-PI who was himself to lead the middle throng. INGO RICHES cared little for KAVA NUT whom he considered a very low person to so betray his own people. He did not realize that KAVA NUT, along with ALT-R and POND MUD had been banished from the Veritas for attempting to force themselves on Eagle Eyes and then lying about it. Yet he still felt contempt for such a man as would betray his own tribe, regardless of the circumstances. 

Thoughts of betrayal led INGO RICHES to think back once more to the contest he had witnessed between NUT-PI and CHOFM. Something about it bothered him. NUT-PI did not seem strong enough or well-trained enough to vanquish CHOFM though he had seen it with his own eyes. Indeed, there must be magic in NUT-PI. It was a magic that had been partly put into his own spear. NUT-PI had cautioned everyone not to touch the heads of the weapons which he had put under a spell. INGO RICHES felt he was warrior enough to use his spear quite effectively with or without magic. Perhaps, he thought, NUT-PI does not want to share the power of his magic with others. 

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Presently, the troop of warriors stopped to rest where they were to rendezvous with the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. INGO RICHES went off by himself a ways. He sat beside a crannied rock wall and looked carefully at his spear, particularly at the tip which was now supposedly imbued with magic. It occurred to him that he could grasp the tip and gain some of the magic for himself. NUT-PI may have told his leaders not to touch it simply because he didn’t want them to discover the true source of his power. Thus, in private, he lightly touched the tip. He didn’t feel anything unusual. It felt exactly as it always had. He felt nothing magical or powerful about it. He decided to grasp it more tightly. He still felt nothing magical or powerful. Perhaps it was all a lie? Maybe the magic only came out in the piercing. He decided to make the tiniest of pricks in the end of his little finger as an experiment. Perhaps then he would feel the magic. A tiny drop of blood appeared on his little finger. He shook his head. It felt just as he had thought it would, a tiny pain but no magic and no special power. 

Then, he shuddered with sudden excitement! He felt it! There was magic after all! This was the magical power that NUT-PI had not wanted them to discover. INGO RICHES felt more powerful than he had ever felt before. His muscles pulsed with power! No wonder, NUT-PI had won. He had used this power to overcome CHOFM! INGO RICHES couldn’t believe how powerful he now felt. Every muscle in his body seemed to want to contract all on its own. He didn’t even have to will them to move. But it was cramping. It was all cramping. He had cramps in his hands and biceps and calves and his thighs. He began to thrash violently and tried to cry out but couldn’t. He fell to the ground thrashing this way and that. He felt a terrible crushing pain in his chest and realized that NUT-PI’s magic was too powerful for him to contain. Perhaps he really was the chosen one. INGO RICHES tried to scream for help but his jaws, along with the rest of his body, had turned to stone. He thrashed against the crannied wall where his hand chanced upon a small flower. Without willing it so, he grasped the flower tightly pulling it, root and all, to his chest. He stared up into the sky which had become an incredibly bright blue morphing into the pure white of distant stars. He realized he was about to die alone; that he had always been alone; that all of the Cupiditas were alone, each striving for more power than anyone else. He thought to himself, “truth is the real power. We will lose. We will always lose. I should have been born a Veritas.” 

Soon, a large throng of the fierce and formidable warriors of the north arrived at the camp as had been arranged. One among them spoke passably the tongue of the Cupiditas and asked to see the leader among the Cupiditas. “Where is NUT-PI?” 

The lead captain under INGO RICHES, named Troy-Paven, answered, “NUT-PI is leading the middle of our three attacks. Our leader is INGO RICHES who will return momentarily.” 

“Among our tribe, it is considered very rude not to have him here to greet us,” he said solemnly. “Find him. We must parley.” 

Troy-Paven beckoned to one of his underlings. “Go fetch INGO RICHES and ask him if it would please him to join us now as the fierce and formidable warriors of the north have arrived. He walked off over by that wall.” Troy-Paven thought it odd that INGO RICHES had not come when the northern warriors had arrived. They had made no secret of their arrival. INGO RICHES should have both seen and heard them and for that matter, smelled them as well, he thought, with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Momentarily, Troy-Paven’s underling returned, ashen-faced. “Well?! I told you to bring INGO RICHES,” barked Troy-Paven. 

“Most honored Troy-Paven, might I have a moment to talk with you alone?”

“NO! I told you…what is the problem? What did he tell you?” barked Troy-Paven even louder. He wanted to show the fierce and formidable warriors of the north that his men followed his orders completely. It was not going well. 

“Troy-Paven, my captain, INGO RICHES lies yonder by that crannied wall. Alas, he cannot speak or come hither because…because he is dead.”

At this, Troy-Paven leapt at his underling and struck him across the face with the blade of his hand. “Do not bring me such lies! Where is INGO-RICHES?!” 

“Oh, Sir, I speak the truth. He is dead, I know not how.” 

Again, Troy-Paven struck his hapless underling for delivering bad news to a superior, as was the customary way to react to bad news among the Cupiditas. Troy-Paven put extra energy into these blows however because he was being embarrassed in front of the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. 

“I will ask you one more time. This time. The truth. Or, I swear, I will kill you myself!” said Troy-Paven tonelessly. His jaw was clenched and his face was ashen. 

“I will fetch him, most noble one and he will tell you himself.” Off the man scurried. Troy-Paven shook his head and looked at the leader of the northern warriors and tilted his head as though to indicate that this was an unfortunate anomaly among the Cupiditas. Meanwhile, the visage of the northern leader remained stoic and unreadable. Soon, the hapless underling of Troy-Paven appeared dragging the twisted and lifeless body of INGO-RICHES whose claw-gripped hand still grasped the flower, root and all. 

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Troy-Paven stared uncomprehendingly. More of the fierce and formidable warriors from the north were gathering around trying to understand what was happening. Troy-Paven, up to now, had spent most of his career being a lackey for INGO-RICHES. Now, he found himself suddenly in charge of warriors without orders from INGO-RICHES. 

KAVA-NUT watched all this unfold. He thought about what might happen if fighting were to break out between the northern warriors and the Cupiditas. He did not really like fighting all that much in any case. He much preferred to overpower smaller women with the help of a friend or two. He decided this might be the right time to sneak off and meet up with ALT-R and POND MUD. He had, after all, some unfinished business with Eagle Eyes. Just as POND MUD had designs on She-of-Many-Paths and ALT-R…Who did ALT-R fancy? Oddly, he realized that he had never really asked himself that question before. He now realized upon reflection that whenever anyone brought up the topic, ALT-R had been very vague or had changed the subject. Oh, well, what did it matter? He decided to jog for a bit in order to put a longer distance between himself and the force he was supposed to be scouting for. But, he wondered who wants to be a scout? I’d be the first one to be pierced with an arrow or spear. 

As he neared the land where the Veritas became more probable, he stopped jogging and climbed a nearby knoll. From here, he could see in the distance that warriors were again on the path behind him. Apparently, he thought, the tribes had devised a plan of attack and were again working together as planned. He wondered whether he should return in that case and excuse his apparent absence as being simply part of his duty as an advanced scout. On the other hand, he would still be expected to be leading and if he were discovered by the Veritas….after all, he had been banished and could be killed on sight. The warriors coming en masse would be much safer than he would be. 

KAVA-NUT looked back through the teachings he had learned from the Veritas and recalled the words of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives who had been having them observe many different types of animals. She had summed up her message by saying, “There is always another way. Nature is infinitely clever in her variety and diversity. You can do the same with your thinking.” KAVA-NUT then recalled that She-of-Many-Paths had taken this lesson much to heart and began showing off with her answers about just how many other ways she could think of. So, I will be safer, he thought, if I can better camouflage myself and stay away from the paths I marked. Then, I have the best chance of meeting up with ALT-R and POND MUD after they’ve taken the middle and southern paths and most of the fighting is done. After deciding on this new non-path path, he jogged down from the knoll and turned down the path and tore a few leafy branches from seedlings contriving to arrange them to make himself both less visible generally and less recognizable to the Veritas. He hoped that the warriors behind him would assume he had gone down the marked path from the evidence of these recently torn bushes. But KAVA-NUT had other plans and he jogged back the other direction behind a thick copse of birches. He was now angling in toward the middle path. Here at least, the warriors were all to be of the Cupiditas and they would be following orders and there would be no need for coordinating two tribes. 

For a time KAVA-NUT turned due west toward the central place of the Veritas, tracing out a path he reckoned to be well south of the one that the northern force was taking and yet well north of the central path. For this reason, he was quite surprised to find one of the AGAM marks that they had carefully placed to guide the forces to elude the guardians and then come behind them and ambush them. 

This must be the work of ALT-R who had reconnoitered the middle path. KAVA-NUT was quite sure that he himself had not placed it here. In another few hundred yards, he encountered another such mark. KAVA-NUT looked back through the forest trying to get a clear look at not too distant mountains to better orient himself. He found himself filled with uncertainty for he could not tell where he was from his few glimpses of mountain peaks. He could not believe he had strayed this far south to cross ALT-R’s path, yet here he was. It had to be ALT-R’s path, he reasoned. He saw no evidence at all that they had yet come by here. If I simply wait here for them, they will eventually meet up with me. It would soon prove too dark to advance much anyway. KAVA-NUT felt bone tired. He realized that had not felt really good since…since trying to convince Eagle Eyes that she loved him. And, she did. Of that he was sure. She may not know it, but she does. And she will. Because I will make her. And POND MUD will have his way with She-of-Many-Paths. She-of-Many-Paths. 

Hah! If she were here right now, she would rattle on about other paths of thought and how the first few ideas that occur to you are likely wrong. And she would continue and it would be annoying. It’s annoying to think of so many paths. He whispered aloud: “Damn her!” For despite his will, he found himself considering yet another explanation. The Veritas might have discovered these markings and put false markers in various places to confuse the advancing armies. If that were so, he should return and warn the soldiers…but it would only make sense if we were not there to lead the soldiers. It wouldn’t do any good to put false markers because I would lead them to the correct ones which I just placed there. Again, the image of Eagle Eyes came to him. “Damn you! Leave me alone!” He had spoken aloud and spoken loudly. He squatted motionless with his camouflage boughs in place. He heard nothing. In the stillness, it occurred to him that the Veritas would have no way to know that The Three would all serve as scouts. 

He waited patiently all evening and all night, but no-one came. Sure enough, it must be a false trail he was on. He ignored the marks and homed toward the center of the Veritas people. I have a date of destiny with Eagle Eyes, he thought. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that Ealge Eyes might be killed in battle long before he had his chance to subdue her. Walking alone, he made good time and arrived mid-day at the edge of the Veritas central place. Here there was a wide stream of fast-flowing fresh water with large aspens and willows lining both the banks. And, sure enough, at the edge of this was none other than Eagle Eyes! The fool was playing with rocks at the edge of the small river like some child. You’re under attack, he wanted to shout. How can you be so stupid? You need me to control you, and that I will. Amazingly, she was all by herself just like last time. He dropped his boughs and ran at her fill tilt, splashing through the shallow stream. She seemed frozen on the spot and made no attempt to flee. 

“Well, my sweet one. You and I have a date with destiny! We have unfinished business!” He strode toward her confidently for he outweighed her easily by half again. Eagle Eyes stood and faced him. 

“Indeed we do.” Then KAVA-NUT heard her scream. She must be terrified, he thought, joyfully. He came up to her and grabbed her with both of his long arms and wrapped them tightly around her, pinning her arms to her side. “I was banished because of you, Eagle Eyes. And now I will have my justice at last.”

Eagle Eyes continued to scream in a high-pitched thin tone. Then her eyes flicked upward and she looked back down to stare at KAVA-NUT. “Your justice? I don’t think so. Justice should be blind.” 

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“Don’t talk nonsense Eagle Eyes. Now, lie down on your back and learn…WHAT?!” KAVA-NUT let go of Eagle Eyes and fell to his knees screaming in pain as both his hands shot up to his right eye. Then, as quick as the beat of a birds wing he felt another searing hot pain in his left eye. The last thing he saw was the beak of an eagle or hawk slashing toward his eye. He screamed so loudly as to be nearly incoherent though many heard these words. “NO! NO! NO! Oh, I am blind! You did this Eagle Eyes! You did this! I will still have you, you witch! Wait till the other two armies come! We will destroy you! And I will have you yet!” 

Out from behind an ancient willow, Fleet-of-Foot walked slowly toward him, bow drawn. “I don’t think so.” 

“Nor I,” said Eagle Eyes who had now approached KAVA-NUT with her hunting knife drawn. “You are banished and any of the Veritas may kill you. But they have left that chore to me.” 

“You’d better be nice to me! I … how the hell did you tear my eyes out? Did you turn yourself into an Eagle? I will kill you. KILL YOU! My friends will be here soon. Not just ALT-R and POND MUD but nomads from the south and fierce, formidable fighters from the far north. WE WILL OWN YOU! We will OWN you! We will…my eyes. Oh, my eyes. My eyes!” 

Fleet-of-Foot put away his bow and put a hammer lock on KAVA-NUT, nearly dislocating the latter’s shoulder. Working together, Fleet-of-Foot and Eagle Eyes quickly tied KAVA-NUT’s hands behind him. 

Eagle Eyes said, “Come, we do not want you polluting our stream.” Eagle Eyes and Fleet of Foot decided to come put KAVA-NUT on display for all to see. He was set upon a high bar, his hands still tied behind him. The trained hawk of Eagle Eyes had not quite had his fill for he had fledgelings to help feed. Periodically, the hawk returned to feed on the eyes and face of KAVA-NUT. Tearing a piece of meat off with its sharp beak and claws, he would return to the nest where the eager young squawked in delight. Indeed, justice was served. 

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The Veritas, having moved their guard posts and arranged for bird call communication, were aware of the northern army which marched noisily and clumsily toward what they thought were the guard posts of the Veritas. Without any local guide, and with a path to victory marked by many false trails, the northern army, under no clear leadership floundered into the forest and became little more than a meandering mob. Every so often, one of their number would fall into a trap or be shot through with a poison arrow, but no archer was ever seen. 

The leader of the northern warriors and Troy-Paven had discovered that NUT-PI had promised the same spoils and first choice in slaves to both the Cupiditas and the northern warriors. Troy-Paven decided not to argue this point however as his own men were greatly outnumbered by the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. Once they joined up with the middle army which was where the main force of warriors of the Cupiditas were, they would be in the majority and then, they could argue about who got what for their efforts. First, they must work together to enslave the Veritas. As more and more warriors were suddenly assailed by an unseen enemy, the leader of the Northerners became more and more inclined to leave off this war. They had no real quarrel with the Veritas. Often, they had, in fact, made mutually beneficial trades with them. He also found it personally offensive to interact with the Cupiditas who so relied on hierarchy and protocol as to be stupidly inflexible in battle. The fierce and formidable warriors of the north believed in fighting in an individualistic and heroic way. The Cupiditas believed in a strict hierarchy of command and control that was wildly unsuited to the current operation. It soon transpired, that at the insistence of Troy-Paven, the troops had followed the “marked trail” to victory into a briar patch and then into quicksand. The leader of the fierce and formidable soldiers of the north, named URDU-TEA, decided he had had enough and called for his men to follow him back to their own village. 

Troy-Paven knew that if NUT-PI found out he had let their ally slip away, it would be certain death. To face down this general would probably be the same. But what could he offer him to stay? 

“WE GO!” said URDU-TEA and his men began to follow him. 

“Wait! Don’t go! You can’t leave. NUT-PI will destroy you when he is done with the Veritas.”

“Where is this NUT-PI? I have not seen him. And where is this ‘scout’ who was supposed to guide us? What became of him? And, why did your own leader fall dead in your midst? You are not an army. You are a joke. We will let you live. Attack the Veritas. Don’t attack the Veritas. In truth, we don’t really care. But either way, your path and our path are no longer the same. Try to stop us and you will all die. We GO!” 

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Troy-Paven’s jaw dropped but he had nothing to say. What had happened with KAVA-NUT anyway? They had now spent countless hours trying one false path and then another. They had yet to find a single occupied guard post and certainly not surprised anyone. If anything they were the ones being slaughtered by surprise. INGO-RICHES was right when he had echoed the words of NUT-PI: “Who can trust a traitor?” Yet, INGO-RICHES lay dead. KAVA-NUT had disappeared. 

OH! Troy-Paven could not believe he had not seen this earlier. KAVA-NUT was not a traitor! He had killed INGO-RICHES and laid false trails at the behest of the Veritas! Then, he had run off so they wouldn’t discover either of his crimes. He now saw a clear course of action. He must head due south and try to warn the middle wave of warriors which was being led by NUT-PI himself. They were all walking into a carefully set trap laid by the Veritas. He let the fierce and formidable warriors of the north pass without incident. When they were out of earshot, he ordered that they would now be heading due south to meet up with the larger Cupiditas force. He did not share why he thought this was a good idea nor his insight that the trio of traitors must really still be working on behalf of the Veritas. He and he alone wanted to take the credit for bringing this critical intelligence to their glorious leader.    

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The Cupiditas

30 Sunday Sep 2018

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

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Cupiditas, empathy, greed, myth, politics, power, treachery, truth, Veritas

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{Translator’s Note}: As has probably been obvious to the reader, translation into English from the legends of the Veritas is a non-trivial task; not only is the language different; so are the times, technology, and culture. Nonetheless, these difficulties pale compared with the next translation which mainly involves a different tribe, known to the Veritas as “The Cupiditas.” In what follows, I rely on several sources of scholarship as well as what the Veritas had to say about The Cupiditas. Where the difficulties become nearly unsurmountable, however, are those fragments of oral history passed along by The Cupiditas themselves. I won’t bother to recount all the difficulties, because doing so seems too much like whining. After all, I am well fed, living in a house with central air conditioning and heating and able to avail myself of modern technology. I do want to let, you, the reader, know how dubious these translations are however, not to gain your sympathy, but to alert you to numerous possible inaccuracies. 

First, the Veritas valued truth extremely highly and had developed numerous strategies to preserve the accuracy of their oral history. By contrast, the Cupiditas, as you will soon see, valued power, not truth. As a consequence, every time there was a regime change, those in power revised, re-interpreted, and redacted, insofar as possible, the oral history of the Cupiditas to make out “their side” to be the “good guys” and the powers most recently deposed to be the “bad guys.” 

Second, the difficulty in translating the myths of the Veritas often consists of finding expressions subtle enough in English to handle the many shades of gray that the Veritas routinely used in such matters as “causality” and “responsibility.” Native English speakers, for instance, see nothing problematic in statements such as: “Mary was sad and it was John’s fault.” Is this sadness temporary, permanent? Is it constant, cyclical? Is it really plausible that Mary’s sadness has zero to do with anything other than John? And, what does it mean to say it was John’s ‘fault’ exactly and solely? I may write such a sentence so that English speakers understand it given the current level of sophistication of our culture. The actual Veritas descriptions, however, are always much more nuanced. Causality is always characterized among the Veritas as a web of interconnections and never as a linear set of linkages. By contrast, there are very few subtleties in the language of the Cupiditas. They seldom attempt to use what we would call persuasion. People are arranged in a strict power hierarchy and whenever a person higher in this hierarchy states something as fact it is supposed to be obeyed, retold, and believed regardless of how absurd or wantonly cruel it might be. If, a few years later, violence leads to a repositioning of the power hierarchy, what was “true” before is now often “false” and now people were expected to obey, retell, and believe even the precise opposite of what they passionately believed weeks before. Since most adults among the Cupiditas had experienced several such “shifts” of what was “acceptable belief,” it seems as though either they had become incapable of knowing the “truth” or they had become too jaded to care.  

Third, as I mentioned, some of what follows is from what is certainly the much more accurate and less self-serving oral history of the Veritas. They were apparently even more mystified by the cultural choices of the Cupiditas than we are and that cast some doubt on how much the Veritas descriptions can be relied up. That the Cupiditas were less well off on almost every dimension is borne out by the archeological evidence. Yet, I remain suspicious that even the truth-seeking and empathic Veritas could ever be completely accurate in their recounting of what happened among the Cupiditas. 

Fourth, Chomsky notwithstanding, in many cases, the Cupiditas did not appear necessarily to speak or even think in complete sentences. Here, I am not referring to the kinds of ellipsis or implicit commands that occur in English. While eating at the table with you, I might lift up my bread, catch your eye and say, “Butter?” meaning, “Would you please pass the butter (so that I can butter my bread).” This is understood by people in our culture. Among the Cupiditas, however, for an underling to use such language with one of a higher status would be considered highly insulting. Instead, the lower status person would be expected to say something along the lines of: “Oh, excellent one! Would it please you to allow me to partake of the butter and thereby increase my great debt to you?” On the other hand, a person of higher rank might well merely speak the word, “Butter.” In this case, it might or might not be an implicit request to pass the butter. It was intentionally vague and ambiguous. Lesser ranked people would silently pass glances trying to guess upon whom the honor of passing the butter had been bestowed. If too long a time passed, the high ranking person might suddenly grab the butter and smash it against the wall or into the face of a nearby lackey. On the other hand, if someone passed the butter, the higher ranking person, might say, “NO! TELL me about butter, idiot!” In other words, the higher ranking person would be intentionally vague so that no matter what was said or done, the other person would be wrong. One of many Cupiditas leaders who reveled in this game was the one called, NUT-PI.  

Legends of the Cupiditas: NUT-PI’s Plan. 

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Although there were many changes and variations in the legends of the Cupiditas, on one thing these legends all seemed to agree. The rather barren and desolate lands that the Cupiditas lived on now were the result of treachery and trickery on the part of the Veritas. Indeed, nearly all of the many problems that beset the Cupiditas were blamed on the Veritas while only a few were blamed on more distant and somewhat less prosperous tribes. For their part, the Veritas were amazed that the Cupiditas survived at all, given their insistence on warping and even denying the truth. The Veritas had learned long before even their most distant legends not to over-fish, over-hunt, or over-harvest in an area and thus destroy the very things that brought sustenance to the tribe. Moreover, when the Veritas built or hunted or gathered, they were always trying to try out new ways and to improve on how they did things. Usually, new ideas did not improve things but occasionally new ideas were an improvement and these were kept. While the Veritas worked and silence was not demanded by the character of the enterprise (e.g., stalking shy creatures), they talked or sang or chanted. By contrast, the Cupiditas tribe did the tasks of their tribe under the constant harassment and belittling of those in charge and new ideas were generally dismissed out of hand even on the rare occasions when they were brought up at all. This is not to say that innovation was absent in the Cupiditas. Apparently, NUT-PI himself rose to power by inventing a new way of killing. Rather than oust his opponents with spear or club, he poisoned them. He often killed them without their even knowing that he was vying for power over them. In this way, he quickly became the most feared among the Cupiditas. According to NUT-PI, those who opposed him angered the gods and those gods therefore destroyed his enemies, invariably striking them with “mysterious illnesses” causing them to go blind while their tongues turned black and their limbs grew ever more weary till at last they fell upon the ground writhing in pain and soon expired.  

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Previous leaders of the Cupiditas had risen to power through a combination of physical strength and guile. As they grew older, their physical strength began to wane slightly and the younger from among the Cupiditas vied among themselves for power and position until one felt strong enough and skilled enough to challenge the current leader.

Sometimes, the challenger would become the new leader and sometimes they would be killed outright or at least maimed to the point of no longer posing a threat. To the Veritas, such a procedure for choosing a new leader seemed preposterous! The chosen leader of the Cupiditas, always a man, could compel any woman among the Cupiditas to mate with him. Initially, this custom seemed to increase the average strength among the Cupiditas. However, the resulting inbreeding inevitably led to numerous health issues among the tribe. NUT-PI did not particularly enjoy physical combat and instead spent many of his days alone capturing small animals and discovering which plant tisanes had the most profound effect. At one point, he challenged the Cupiditas leader to mortal combat with spears. NUT-PI covered the spearhead of his weapons with an extract of hellebore mixed with datura. 

As was customary, in the rough-hewn stone arena before the “contest” began, NUT-PI offered two identical spears to the leader. As the leader reached for the first one, NUT-PI deftly slashed the hand of the old leader, CHOFM. It was not a deep cut, but sufficient poison leached into his bloodstream to cause weakness, confusion, and partial paralysis. A few quick thrusts and NUT-PI fatally wounded CHOFM. Despite his older age, CHOFM was much stronger, quicker, and more skillful than NUT-PI and would have easily won a “fair fight” with any sort of weapon. The tribe of Cupiditas, however, immediately hailed the new leader, as was their custom. 

{Translator’s Note}: The events described above are one of those many places where the worldview of the Veritas differs significantly from that of the Cupiditas. The legends of the Cupiditas do not distinguish between a contest won by treachery and a contest won by skill or good luck or superior strength. The Cupiditas already had a long tradition of pledging instant allegiance to whoever is the leader without any regard to how they got there. 

After many moons, NUT-PI proved himself to be a ruthless leader, even by comparison to other leaders of the Cupiditas. In order to keep the peace among the tribe, since he offered nothing in the way of true leadership, he roused the Cupiditas to a fever pitch of hatred for all that they had {supposedly] lost to the Veritas. 

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The next year, the winter seemed to last into spring and then into early summer. Hunting proved sparse and NUT-PI feared that the anger he had aroused might morph so as to be directed at him. Indeed, he rightly thought that fighting the far-away Veritas might seem to the people of the Cupiditas to be much more difficult than challenging and replacing their own leader. Also, the Veritas were known by all to be both more numerous and more prosperous than the Cupiditas. An all-out war against the Veritas would have been madness and although they spoke of it publicly as though it would be an easy victory, each of the Cupiditas secretly knew such a war would be hopeless. For his part, NUT-PI kept a close watch for any signs of a youth who might grow strong and skillful enough to challenge his power. He planned to poison any such youth before he became strong enough and confident enough to issue the challenge.

Such a challenge as was awaited by NUT-PI did not come. Instead, after the long, cold winter, the mandatory morning adoration songs for the leader of the Cupiditas were interrupted by two such ones as were not expected at all. By their garb, they were known to be of the Veritas. The Cupiditas thought it both stupid and brave for two such ones to walk right into the camp of the Cupiditas. Of course, the Veritas, while knowing that their customs were quite different from those of the Cupiditas, had no inkling of how heavily reviled they had been by NUT-PI. So, those two from the Veritas did not suspect that approaching the Cupiditas would be particularly dangerous. 

As they walked deeper into the Cupiditas camp, POND MUD and ALT-R found themselves surrounded by more and more of the Cupiditas. Though ALT-R had grown ever more clever at reading and manipulating people, he mainly did so through his words. He was not well versed at all in the language of the Cupiditas and his palms grew sweaty and the throng of people swelled in numbers. Even the much stronger POND MUD though slow and brash well understood that he and his friend were no match for the strength of the entire Cupiditas people. While ALT-R understood only a little of the language of the Cupiditas, he and even POND MUD could tell that the people surrounding them were being derisive and threatening. At last, the tension became overwhelming as many of the Cupiditas hunters jabbed their spears threateningly at the two. So, ALT-R forced himself to speak in a loud, confident voice, supplementing his words with gestures that were common to all the tribes. 

“Oh, great and wondrous people of the Cupiditas, we bring great news to you and wish to speak with your great and legendary leader, CHOFM!” Though fearful, ALT-R made his voice ring loud and clear in the crisp morning air. 

His words brought a much more sudden change in mood than ALT-R expected. Several braves ran off from the group to inform their leader who was lounging in his large, private cabin. The crowd as a whole began chattering angrily among themselves and became even more threatening to the pair. 

ALT-R tried to understand what was going on and wished to choose his next words so as not to further darken the mood of the crowd. He gestured expansively to indicate the whole village. “You of the Cupiditas are a marvelous and strong people. I see many strong people among you. I see many cabins. I see many tents. I see that you are a prosperous and strong people.” The Cupiditas were feeling anything but prosperous and many took the words of ALT-R as sarcasm since they “knew” the Veritas were far more prosperous. ALT-R knew his flattery was not working well but had no idea why. He hated his lack of fluency in the tongue of the Cupiditas and struggled for something else to say by way of flattery. As he scanned the village for inspiration, he saw someone emerge from the largest cabin. This someone was dressed in finer garb than the other Cupiditas and was surrounded by several servile sycophants. 

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ALT-R stared at the man and bit his lower lip. He wondered whether this was the leader of the Cupiditas, for he, like the other Veritas, had always heard that CHOFM was a rather large, older, well-muscled man. But this did not well describe the obvious leader who emerged from the cabin. Perhaps he was ill. That would explain his diminished stature as well as the fawning attitude of those around him. Among the Veritas, such fawning behavior never occurred even for She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives but only signaled someone in a temporary state of great need. Still confused, ALT-R cursed himself for not having chosen a smart, knowledgeable friend who could help him rather than one he could easily manipulate. 

NUT-PI spoke. “I am NUT-PI, the King of the Cupiditas. I am not CHOFM. I vanquished that old man before the last fall harvest, oh, ill-informed one of the Veritas. What gifts did you bring me?” 

ALT-R wished that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were here to advise him. Immediately, he pushed this thought from his mind. He hated the leader of the Veritas, who had overlooked him as the next leader and furthermore banished him from the tribe – a rare and terrible punishment. But it did remind him of the Rings of Empathy that he possessed. 

“I am he who is called ALT-R and I bring you, oh, great leader of the Cupiditas, these wondrous and magical rings imbued with special powers by the shaman of the Veritas. My companion also brings his rings as gifts. Though these are magical and wondrous, they are but tokens of our esteem. Our real gift is the gift of knowledge. We have come to show you how to conquer the Veritas, not through superior computations [sic] but through knowledge. We are of the Veritas and know the Veritas. We know where their lookouts are; we know their habits; we know their weapons; we know their strengths and weaknesses. We can show you how to defeat the Veritas. All I need is your word to make me small King of the Veritas to your large King of all in these lands. And, my friend POND MUD, of course. Also to rule under you.”

NUT-PI said flatly, “Show me these rings.” 

ALT-R eagerly fished out his rings and nudged POND MUD to do the same, which he did grudgingly. ALT-R knelt before NUT-PI and offered up his rings. He quietly backed away, head still lowered. He whispered for POND MUD to do the same. And so it was done. 

NUT-PI considered the rings, turning them over in his hand and letting the morning sun play upon them. They were indeed beautiful and well-made, but he was quite skeptical of magic. He had his own “magic” after all, consisting of the poisons he used to keep his power. The Cupiditas may think he was magic but he knew what the real secrets of his success were: poison and ruthlessness. We will see whether your knowledge of the Veritas is sufficient to save your lives. Come!” He turned and walked back toward his cabin, gestured for them to follow and snapped his fingers at his body guards. 

Inside the cabin, NUT-PI seated himself upon an ornately carved wooden chair raised several feet off the floor on a dais. POND MUD and ALT-R were forced to kneel on gravel before him while a score of well-muscled guards pointed their spears at the head, throat, and chest of the two from among the Veritas.  

NUT-PI looked at the two disdainfully. “Speak! Be quick! What do you know of how to defeat the Veritas!” 

ALT-R now found himself having to speak plainly in a foreign tongue about complex things. He was ordered to do so quickly and he was already feeling pain in his knees. Yet, if he spoke in too little detail, he would be dismissed as a fraud. On the other hand, if he spoke in too much detail, he knew that he had no guarantee that the Cupiditas would not kill them both and use the knowledge anyway. He stared at the gravel wondering whether it would ease his pain or worsen it if he tried to shift his position just a little.

NUT-PI enjoyed his obvious discomfort and played the rings in his hand while he started at the two. “WELL?! Do not think to waste my time!” he barked. 

ALT-R decided to reveal the scope of his knowledge first and then delve into ever more detail, vowing to ignore the pain until he could read that NUT-PI was sufficiently impressed. He would also make it clear that it would be necessary for him to accompany the Cupiditas in their raid in person. Thus, he began to reveal the general habits of the Veritas such as the fact that guards were not always positioned in the same place. At the full moon and the empty moon, these posts rotated among over a hundred vantage points that were chosen in some unknown way by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. ALT-R knew where the guards were now so he could sneak back into the lands of the Veritas and discover their new hiding places when the moon showed no light. For the guards took no pains to cover their trails from the campsites to their guard posts. Each guard also had a small drum for raising an alarm. It would be critical to sneak behind the guards from the direction of the Veritas, once the new positions were known. It must be done very quietly and with camouflage under cover of rain if possible. Each such post must be taken quickly, the drums destroyed, and the guards murdered. It would not be necessary to kill all the guards initially. The Cupiditas only needed to murder those on the side of the deep forest that bordered the lands of the Veritas. 

ALT-R had never known such pain and yet, he kept reminding himself that he needed to convince NUT-PI of the depth and importance of his knowledge. He also painted a picture of beautiful women to be raped, full storehouses to be ransacked, and many fine artifacts that could be stolen. While it would be possible to annihilate the Veritas outright, it would be far more profitable to take them as slaves, he explained. He and POND MUD could be excellent at being the slave drivers for they spoke the language of the Veritas and knew their customs. They would be well positioned to foresee any uprising or rebellion and destroy any such tree of rebellion while still a seedling. “But of course, that choice remains with you, oh Great One,” said ALT-R fawningly. ALT-R had told a different story to POND MUD and promised him he could have any woman of the Veritas or the Cupiditas once they had become co-leaders of both lands and villages. Dull as POND MUD sometimes was, ALT-R hoped he would have the sense not to interrupt or reveal this now. He had made it as clear as he could to POND MUD to volunteer nothing. 

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At last, NUT-PI grew weary of listening for it was hard work to understand the twisted tongue of ALT-R and besides that, NUT-PI’s stomach growled for among all the Cupiditas he was the last to have a morning meal. So, he put an end to the interview, at least for now. 

“Enough! I will think on this and announce my decision on the morrow. Guards, take these two, denude them, bind them hand and foot in the center of the village upside down so my people may look upon the Veritas and realize they are nothing special and can indeed by conquered. When you have bound them securely, come back here that we may plan our invasion with or without their help. Perhaps they will be of future use as well. Or perhaps we will feed them to the wolves. Or, perhaps we will learn how they are made inside. Arise now and go! After you have secured them, warn the villagers not to kill them before I give the command, though if they wish to hurt them a little or humiliate them, to enjoy themselves. Stress, however, that they are not to kill these two until I give the word. GO!” 

ALT-R tried to stand and found himself struggling like an oldster. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, he thought, could have come to her feet more gracefully. 

So, it was that ALT-R and POND MUD found themselves in the middle of the camp of the Cupiditas, strapped to large logs, hog-tied and upside down, subject to the taunts and worse of the villagers through the long day and the longer night without benefit of food or drink or privacy. 

Even a dictator needs confidantes and so it was with NUT-PI. Now, these were with NUT-PI to plan. While the Veritas had very detailed maps of the entire area, those of the Cupiditas were far less accurate. Nonetheless, they knew the location of the thick forest that protected one side of the lands of the Veritas. They planned their attack as well as the training and selection of the warriors. One of NUT-PI’s captains obliquely brought up the question of who would be the best slave driver of the remaining Veritas. 

NUT-PI laughed and said earnestly, “Do you think me a fool, INGO RICHES? You can never trust a Veritas. And you can never ever trust a traitor. They are both! Of course, I will choose one of you to be slave-driver of the remnants of the Veritas. These two will both be killed once Victory is assured. Till then, they can serve as useful tools. They will then be killed as slowly and painfully as possible in the middle of the main camp of the Veritas to illustrate to the Veritas what happens to any who defy me. That will be their final gift to me. I will decide later who will have the Veritas to run as they wish, but do not worry, INGO RICHES, you are among the candidates. We must first put all our thought into winning this war for the Veritas are not an easy foe. They are wily and well-trained. We will use these two, but let them grow more humility as they contemplate their possible fates while hungry, thirsty, fearful and humiliated. Besides, I want to know why they came here. So far, this one who calls himself ALT-R had not really answered that question completely. But he will in the morning. Or the next morning. Or the next. Eventually, I will discover the truth. And this I promise you and all the people of the Cupiditas – we will conquer the Veritas and rule the world.”

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Myths of the Veritas: The Sixth Ring of Empathy

20 Thursday Sep 2018

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

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emotional intelligence, empathy, evaluation, myth, politics, testing, truth, Veritas

Myths of the Veritas: The Sixth Ring of Empathy. 

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The Four, as they were now called by the tribe, despite being rivals, achieved a high degree of esprit de corps. Partly, as they had discussed among themselves, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives was, from their point of view, completely unpredictable in her tasks. Furthermore, all of them understood that the slightest hint of cheating, bad-mouthing, or even approaching the boundary of good taste might well be precisely that it would likely be the end of their candidacy. While the candidates were being tested primarily on empathy, it was well understood by the entire tribe that it was absolutely critical that the leader of the tribe must adhere to the very highest standards of ethical behavior. Why on earth would a tribe choose a leader of low moral fiber only to set a horrible example for the whole people? For these reasons and because, apart from any thought to consequences, winning at all costs, including dishonor, was simply not a way any of them wanted to live their lives. 

Many moons passed and still She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had not called them together to explain the trial of the Sixth Ring of Empathy. So far, it was a complete mystery. As could be expected, The Four speculated a great deal among themselves, but they realized they were merely wild guesses. The talked, and debated, and dialogued quite a lot about empathy, but they were in the dark as to the actual tasks they would next be judged on. 

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The Shaman, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, for her part, walked here and there throughout the people; helping with what needed to be done; advising mainly by answering question with question; always generating warmth and wisdom by her example. Her being there, each knew in their hearts, was a great gift for all the people and they esteemed her and loved her greatly. Of course, they accepted that her seeking a successor was just another example of the great wheel of life moving around. Yet, it still saddened them to see her gone so they were in no way discomfited to see that the long time before the sixth trial even began stretched on and on. 

Unbeknownst to either the tribe as a whole or The Four, the “trial” for the Sixth Ring of Empathy had begun the instant that The Four had been chosen and walked silently back to their tents. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives knew quite well that everyone, including The Four, did not realize this. And she also knew that each of The Four was spending at least part of their time wisely, becoming better friends with each other and with the nuances of empathy through their mutual explorations and discussions. The Shaman planned to end the “trial” when she had enough evidence for her to decide on who precisely would continue to the seventh and final trial. 

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The Shaman had been observing many things over the past many moons. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had been watching how The Four interacted with each other. Who listened well? Who spoke well? Who thought of things no-one else did? Who had a good heart? Who sought the truth and had the good of all at heart? 

She listened to how everyone in the tribe spoke of everyone else, including The Four. She knew how to moderate words heard to the likely underlying truth because she understood the blind spots of everyone in the tribe. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had watched the reactions of everyone in the tribe as one or the other from among The Four came near. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives sought out many conversations with those of the tribe. She would talk of acorns, for example, and then remark on how Eagle Eyes had studied how acorns fell because she had been interested in shapes. This was not the story that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives was interested in. The Shaman wanted to see the story written in the face and eyes of the person receiving the story. 

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{Translator’s Note}: At this point in the narrative, there are several more techniques that the Shaman used but those descriptions are filled with “technical terms” of the Veritas and, so far, no-one has much idea at all what, precisely, the Shaman actually did. It seems as though the Shaman is sensing how animals react to the candidates? But that makes no sense. And, it seems as though she is “reading” their faces and body language and, even, tuning into their auras? souls? voices? thoughts? responses? hearts? And, there is a passage that — well — I know it’s crazy, but she watches how music vibrates through these candidates? Or, how they resonate with various vibrations? None of the few remaining on this planet who claim to know anything about Veritas claims to have any knowledge of these arcane and possibly archaic arts. The oddest part is that the whole time I was trying to make sense of it, what came to mind were scenes involving the high-tech scanning from Star Trek! 

Although much of the Shaman’s focus was on the most important task of her life; viz., choosing her successor, she also took note of the Friendship of POND MUD and ALT-R. She had hoped they could learn from each other, but she feared that this friendship had taken a turn toward the way of Not-Life where truth is sacrificed as easily as one pulls off an ant’s leg. There were now simply too many reeds of evidence — more than enough to make a basket — that POND MUD and ALT-R were not going to be re-entered into the seeking of the Rings of Empathy. The Shaman knew that they had agreed to disrupt the trial. Fortunately, their planning was still quite vague because, like the rest of the Village, the two of them had no idea that the trial was underway. ALT-R, however, was discovered to be perpetuating one scheme on his own: to sow the seeds of jealousy among The Four and also between POND MUD and Shade Walker. This could help him “control” POND MUD and could well disrupt the entire trial so that the chances of POND MUD and ALT-R regaining a chance at the Rings of Empathy would be increased.  

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Though very bright, ALT-R was not among those of ever-alert eyes and ears. When he began calculating a plot, he had a tendency to pace while speaking aloud. In such a state, his cleverness peaked. However, in such a state, he could fail to notice such a noiselessly slow-moving person as She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. The Shaman was shocked. There had been hot-tempered people among the Veritas and those who were occasionally less than truthful when describing their romantic involvements to others. But the Shaman was now observing what certainly appeared to be an actually evil person who was going to subvert the process of succession in order to grab power for himself. He did not see or did not care what such a grabbing of power would do to the tribe, to the people, to the earth. 

The Shaman shuffled away as silently as she had come. Perhaps, the time had come for both POND MUD and ALT-R to be banished from the tribe before more evil spread. At this point, She -Who-Saves-Many-Lives happened upon a very perplexed looking young woman: She-of-Many-Paths. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives stood still, held out her arms before her, hands up, smiled at the youth, and said, “Good Day. Or should I say, ‘Good Day?’ What seems to be the trouble?” 

She-of-Many-Paths answered: “It’s nothing. It’s just. Shade Walker and POND MUD seemed to be about to fight over me. And I’m not. I don’t like POND MUD at all. I mean, not that way. But I do like Shade Walker. But Trunk of Tree is beautiful and large too. I just — but they can’t fight for me. I will choose who I want and what did you mean about our children pulling us together? Anyway, it’s really nothing and it’s — you know — just silly stuff among boys and girls, nothing that you’d…I mean that you’d be interested in.”

There was warm humor in the eyes of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives as she answered. “It’s all right, She-of-Many-Paths, I know you were about to say that I wouldn’t know anything about young love because now I’m an old woman, in fact, a very old woman. Of course, you are quite right. I was never myself a baby or a toddler or a young girl or a very confused adolescent. I fell fully hatched out of a very old and very craggy willow. That’s why my skin is so wrinkled. The bark against my skin all those years before I finally fell out full-grown and blotches as you see me now. So, I would no nothing of the catching of the breath and the full-throttled beating of the heart nor the feeling of melting and the burning skin. But if I had been born a baby and lived a full life, I would tell you one thing and that would be that you may live through all that and some day be lucky enough to be an old lady such as I. But meanwhile, come here. Take my hands. Look into my heart and see what you see in my past. 

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She-of-Many-Paths walked slowly forward to take the hands of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. As she stepped forward, her embarrassment subsided. Of course, everyone is part of the wheel of life, she thought. She imagined She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives as a youth. And then — there she was! She could see her plainly with long black hair and strong limbs. She was taller and her skin was smooth. And, she was in love. And again. And love was like the love that is the very foundation of life and love is terrifying and wonderful and much better than okay. It is Life. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives grew out of such a love and her parents as well and her grandparents and She-of-Many-Paths felt now quite well-named and terrified at the same time! For she was traveling out in many paths backwards in time, floating through an endless tunnel so it seemed slowly like a maple seed twirling slowly. She-of-Many-Paths could see/feel/hear backwards in time to the first Veritas and beyond to the first humans and beyond and it became almost unbearable because she was no longer She-of-Many-Paths with human eyes and brain at all. She was something else. Animal. Smell. Fear. Eat. Mate. Mate. Mate. Of course she wanted to mate! Now, She-of-Many-Paths staggered backwards, letting go of the Shaman’s hands. 

The Shaman spoke to reassure, “I see that you found the way to truly touch the tree of life through the heart of another.”

She-of-Many-Paths stammered, “What…what was that?! I could see, feel, what it was like to be you and … and before you… and it all started slow but then got fast and I was not even me.”

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The Shaman spoke again, “You learned to tie your empathy to your imagination in a feedback loop. It feels a bit overwhelming at first, but it is a useful tool.” 

{Translator’s Note}: There is a thicker description in the original and, though I know it sounds crazy, the most accurate translation I could come up with is a Superheterodyne receiver.

“Overwhelming,” exclaimed She-of-Many-Paths, “indeed. But, did you actually look like that? Or, is it just how I pictured it?” 

“Most likely some combination of those and also how I pictured myself.” 

“Do you experience this? Do you … travel, see,” She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. You will get better at it with practice though you may decide not to learn to use it.” 

Shade Walker appeared around a bend and began walking toward them. She-of-Many-Paths looked about as though for an escape route, but it was too late. 

The Shaman was the first to speak. “How does it go with you, Shade Walker? How are you and POND MUD getting on these days?”

“Well, actually…” Shade Walker’s eyes darted to those of She-of-Many-Paths. “He seems to want to fight me. Well, over She-of-Many-Paths. I am not afraid to fight him. But She-of-Many-Paths should choose who she wants. What does it mean to fight over her? Also, there’s something else, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. I don’t sense that he actually wants to. You well know that I have continued to study the way snakes can feel/see the heat of their prey. And, I sense all the heat coming, not from POND MUD himself but from ALT-R. But I don’t really think ALT-R wants…I don’t know what he wants. It just doesn’t feel right somehow.”  

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“No, you’re quite right,” said the Shaman. “It isn’t right. I’m afraid something must be done but I am not quite ready to do it. Meanwhile, I need to find Trunk-of-Tree and Eagle-Eyes. Any idea where they might be, Shadow Walker?”

“She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, I believe Eagle Eyes went to watch Fleet-of-Foot run. She wants to draw the way he runs. She’s talking about his form. It’s a little embarrassing. She’s not interested in his shape, I don’t think. I mean she is, but…let’s see. As for Trunk-of-Tree, he is practicing, as best he can, for the Sixth Ring of Empathy.”

“And, how, Shadow-Walker, does he propose to do that?” queried the Shaman.

“Exactly! We don’t know the next test.” Here, Shadow Walker paused and looked carefully at the Shaman for a hint or a clue. He found none. “Anyway, the way he is preparing is by practicing earlier tests. He doesn’t know what else to do.” 

“I suppose not. And, where might he be practicing?” 

“That is hard to say. I mean, I know where he is generally, but not precisely. He thinks you may re-ask us to do the first task, but this time testing a finer gradation of empathy. So, he is searching for places where the number of mountain peaks seen will depend on the height of the individual. Frankly, Shaman, it seems far-fetched to me. Of course, if that is the next trial, please don’t take offense. It’s just that every trial so far has been quite different so….well, I have no idea. Well, that’s not completely true. I have an idea but I don’t know whether it’s correct.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives smiled as she asked, “And, what is this idea, Shadow Walker?”

“Well, I think. She-of-Many-Paths and I both think…” he paused to look at the young woman who nodded almost imperceptibly. “We both think that we are in the trial. All day. Every day. It’s not about what we do when we know we’re being tested. It’s about what we do all through our lives and how we relate to other people. At first, it seemed kind of a crazy idea, no offense, but the more we thought about it and discussed it, the more sense it made.” He glanced again at She-of-Many-Paths, who spoke next. 

“Some people…some are quite good at dissembling empathy when they know they are being watched, but the real question is, what do they do when they don’t know they’re being watched. And, I have – we have – been thinking that you are somehow watching without being seen.” 

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“An interesting, idea,” began She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. “Very interesting. Your curiosity will soon be satisfied. I ask all four of you to come to council fire by my cabin tonight.” 

So it was ordered and so it was done. After dinner, the four came to a small fire that the Shaman had set in a small octagon of logs. After everyone was seated, the Shaman began. 

“I want to thank you all for coming. Tonight I will reveal the names of those who have successfully earned the Sixth Ring of Empathy. I can see that two of you are quite surprised — so much so that you are bursting with questions. What would you like to know?

Trunk-of-Tree was indeed beside himself and needed to talk, spewing his words forth rather quickly for him. “How can you have a result when we haven’t even begun the trial. We don’t even know what the task is. At least I don’t. What are we to do? Have we already done it? What? I don’t understand.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle was equally taken aback but reacted more stoically. “I would also like to understand, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. What do you mean? When did we do a trial?”

The Shaman nodded. “These are good questions. As you know, the Veritas put a high value on truth. I have discovered that some among our tribe are attempting to deceive. And though that does not include anyone here tonight, nonetheless, I wanted to see how you employ your gifts of empathy — or not — on a day to day basis, when you are not being tested, but just going about your business hunting, fishing, gathering, conversing, exploring, arguing, helping others, making baskets and tools and so on. In other words, I wanted to learn not what you could do when tested but what you would do, when you were not being tested.” 

“Well, I, for one,” explained Trunk-of-Tree, “was trying to improve my skills. My empathy skills. I did our tests over and over trying to see through the eyes of others and feel the hunger of others and see through the eyes of animals. I think I have improved all of these skills. And, also, I tried different ways of how-to. That’s what I’ve been doing. Improving my empathy.” 

“Indeed, this is not a bad thing, Trunk-of-Tree. How have you used your skill — your improved skill — to help the Veritas or to help someone among the Veritas?” 

“Well,” stammered Trunk-of-Tree, “would there not be plenty of time for that once, if I became leader of the Veritas? That’s your task now, but our task is to learn empathy, right?” 

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The Shaman looked at the others, “Any other comments?” 

Eyes-of-Eagle spoke next, “Well, we have been talking among us a lot about empathy and about what the trial might be. I thought it would involve shape-shifting. I thought we would actually have to change our shape in some way so we could imagine, what it might be like if we were smaller, or older, or more … but I can see your point. Yes, the best trial is the trial no-one knows is a trial. Shadow-Walker and She-of-Many-Paths thought you might trick us like that but I didn’t really take it seriously.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke, “I did not say it was a trick. Nor did Shadow-Walker. That is how you and Trunk-of-Tree characterized it. I just thought it was a slim possibility since it was taking so long. But then, the more we discussed it, the more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed that at least one of the trials wouldn’t be identified as such. In this way, our natures and choices would be revealed more fully.” 

“This is all true,” said the Shaman, “and was indeed my plan. However, I also discovered something I did not know. She-of-Many-Paths has a particular talent that is rare indeed. She can tune into the very Tree of Life through another’s heart. She can connect her empathy with her imagination. And then I discovered that Shadow-Walker can sense the origin passion of a plan. The development of these unusual talents is consistent with my observations that both of them have been thinking about empathy all during their activities. I am therefore giving the Sixth Ring of Empathy to She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow-Walker. 

“I need to share one other thing with all of you. I have reason to believe that sometime soon we may have some treachery in our midst. I just ask all four of you to keep your eyes, ears, and hearts open. You can use a broad-net empathy to sense when bad things are about to happen. Use it wisely.”

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Myths of the Veritas: The Fifth Ring of Empathy

01 Saturday Sep 2018

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

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empathy, myth, politics, power, religion, story, truth, Veritas

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The day after the Prophesy Dream of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives dawned clear and clean. The air smelled as sweet as ever and sweeter still to the shaman who had dreamt of a world of dirty air. The clear morning sun rainbowed on raindrops on every bush. Trees sported their first leaves of spring which are as various in colors as those of autumn but because the leaves are yet babies, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives could see much more deeply into the land about her. It filled her heart with gladness even more deeply on this spring morn. She decided that she would share her dream with all of the Veritas, but only after she took the time to craft the telling so that each would receive the gift as she had — the gift of great gratitude. For she well knew that experiencing that dead white world as she had made her redouble her appreciation for the real world but that simply telling others about her dream would not be enough to gift them the same great gratitude. It would take time to decide how best to share her gift. 

Meanwhile, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives walked to the main village to see who among “The Six Who See Through Animal Eyes” was already at work on their various tasks. The eyes of the shaman, though old, remained clear and her mind remained retentive so that as she passed through the village greeting this person and that person from among the Veritas, she observed many things both small and large. And, among the small things she noticed were a number of crushed ants. She looked around for Pond Mud but he was nowhere near. On a hunch, she decided to visit the place where she had shown Pond Mud the strength of ants. As always among the Veritas, and as she had been trained all her life, her footsteps were as silent as those of bobcat. Before she reached the clearing with the broken cabin, she could hear the angry voice of Pond Mud. And though the eyes of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were as clear as ever, she well knew that her hearing was not so good as that of a youth such as Pond Mud. As she approached, she could hear the tone of voice of Pond Mud become sweet and she greatly suspected that he had heard her coming despite her silent way of walking. 

He met her at the entrance to the clearing and spoke first, “Ah, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, it is good to see you. I am headed back to the village. I was just trying to learn more about ants though I well understand that I am no longer in contention for another ring of empathy. Such learning is still a good thing. Anyone can see that.” 

“I am glad to hear you say that. The statement is correct. Anyone can see that. Though some choose not to see. I hear that you have become still better friends with Alt-R. Is this so?” 

“Yes, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, we have been training together to become still better hunters. And, that skill, as you well know, also requires seeing through the eyes of animals. May I accompany you back to the village and I will tell you something of what I have learned?”

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives wished to examine the clearing but decided it could be better done later while Pond Mud busied himself with other tasks. So, she returned to the village still feeling great gratitude for the fullness of the life around her. 

During this day, she observed the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes at their various tasks as well as much more. When Alt-R and Pond Mud, along with several other hunters, went to practice spear throwing, she returned to the clearing. Alas, her hunch had been correct. Pond Mud had not simply been observing ants; he had been systematically killing them. Even more disturbing, many had been tortured. And, even more disturbing than those actions, had been the dissembling of Pond Mud. He had known what she would like to have heard — that he had taken her lessons to heart. Her mood soured for this was the sort of deception that could destroy a village or indeed an entire tribe. It would have to be curbed very soon and most likely shared with the entire tribe. She held out some hope however, that the heart of Pond Mud could yet be turned to good. For if not, he would certainly be exiled, a rare and severe punishment which invariaby lead a short and lonely life. 

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As the delicate beginnings of spring gave way to the fullness of another summer, the tasks of the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes gave way from planning to building. Soon, the time came for all to recount their learning. When She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives saw that this was so, she called each of The Six to her as one. She asked each pair in turn to describe their experiences for she wanted to judge not only the maker but also the mentor as well as how they recalled events differently, as people do, and how such differences were resolved. The shaman also knew that each of The Six could learn from all these experiments in trying to use the way of how-to of another.

The first to report on their experience together were the hammock-builder, Fleet-of-Foot and his mentor, Trunk-of-Tree. According to Trunk-of-Tree, he first tried to show Fleet-of-Foot how he would make a hammock with great thought as to its longevity and strength so that it would last against time and some misuse. Fleet-of-Foot had resisted such advice and had immediately begin building the hammock. Six such hammocks had Fleet-of-Foot constructed over three days time and each such hammock had collapsed.

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Fleet-of-Foot admitted that these hammocks had broken but he claimed it was because Trunk-of-Tree had given him faulty materials and bad advice. At long last, in frustration, Fleet-of-Foot had challenged Trunk-of-Tree to show him how he would build a hammock and instead, Trunk-of-Tree had spent an entire morning making tools, and laying things out, and not even starting on the hammock. Fleet-of-Foot grew impatient because obviously, Trunk-of-Tree had had no intention of showing Fleet-of-Foot how to build a hammock. When Fleet-of-Foot came back a few hours later, the hammock was finished. This they agreed upon, and as to its sturdiness, but Fleet-of-Foot was sure that Trunk-of-Tree had cheated by getting others to help him make his hammock. Otherwise, argued Fleet-of-Foot, how could slow Trunk-of-Tree make a hammock in a day when fast Fleet-of-Foot finished no hammocks in three days? 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had much to say about this experiment, but she held her tongue and first asked the others from among The Six what they thought. After some long silence, Shade Walker said this, “I have known both all my life and have never known Trunk-of-Tree to cheat or lie. Fleet-of-Foot is fast; of this, there is no question. But he also sometimes rushes into things so quickly that he ends up taking more time. I have myself only made three hammocks so I am not so expert as Trunk-of-Tree and perhaps mine are not quite so sturdy but they were all finished in one day.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke next. “I have never made a hammock. But I have been listening to many expert craftsman in our village and every such has cautioned me to take the time to plan the work carefully. Whether it is making spears, making spearheads, making pottery, or baking bread, it is critical to ensure that you have a good plan; that you have chosen your materials well; that you have prepared and tested at each step along the way. So, I can well believe that Too-Fleet-of-Foot could charge off along the wrong path six times in three days while Trunk-of-Tree could take a more deliberate path to create a hammock in one day.” 

Easy Tears knew it was his turn to speak but did not wish to offend anyone. “I cannot really tell because I was not a witness to these recounted events. I believe that each told us of their own experiences as they now recall them. And, ultimately, both were successful because now there is a hammock that was not there before and Trunk-of-Tree served as mentor and judge.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives nodded to Eyes-of-Eagle who spoke carefully, molding the shape of her argument and the shape of each sentence and each word. “I find that trying to create something in the way of another how-to is a difficult task. So, it was with Trunk-of-Tree and Fleet-of-Foot. Fleet-of-Foot grew too quickly impatient and rather than trying to build in the way of Trunk-of-Tree instead built in his own way of how-to which was not sufficient to the task. Rather than learn another, more careful way from someone who knows and uses the careful way, he insisted on sticking with his own way though that way did not work. However, Trunk-of-Tree, though he took his time with the hammock, was likewise impatient with Fleet-of-Foot and ended up building the hammock himself which was not his assigned task.”   

{Translator’s Note}: In the original, these recountings, have apparently been preserved in great detail. Though scholars differ, I tend to believe the details are correct despite their being passed down orally because the Veritas developed many methods to ensure the accuracy of their traditional learning stories and because the details of their skills were vital to their survival. Since most modern readers have little little experience weaving baskets or making a hide tent, I omit much of those details in my summaries. Instead, I focus on the lessons learned and the decisions of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. 

Now, as was her way, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives asked Fleet-of-Foot and Trunk-of-Tree whether they had found any further learning while listening to the comments of his compatriots. 

Fleet-of-Foot immediately began, “Wonderful comments. I learned much. However, the important thing is that I was asked to produce a hammock in the way of how-to of Trunk-of-Tree and such a hammock was indeed constructed. I caused that to happen by my actions so I believe I completed my task. Fast is good. But sometimes, the fastest way to accomplish something is to have someone else who is even faster do the job. Either way, faster is better.” 

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives stared at Fleet-of-Foot and sighed. Still, she did not speak. Instead, she turned to Trunk-of-Tree. The latter’s face flushed as he said, “Fleet-of-Foot is indeed impatient, but so was I. My job was to mentor Fleet-of-Foot in the way of how-to for strength and longevity yet after three days, I gave up and made the hammock myself. I believed that if I demonstrated to him that I could make the hammock more quickly by being careful and planning each step that Fleet-of-Foot would learn the lesson. I made this judgement based on my own way of how-to. I would have learned the lesson this way. But this is not the way of learning of Fleet-of-Foot. He is too impatient to learn in this way. He left even before I finished; in fact, barely after I had made preparations for the work. He believes I encouraged or cajoled others to help me, which I did not do, because I failed to teach him the slow and methodical way of how-to. So, I too failed in my task.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives again turned to “Fleet of Foot” and prompted, “And…?” Fleet-of-Foot answered thusly, “Trunk-of-Tree may have failed but I did not. We should see who else besides me deserves the next ring of empathy.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives chuckled. “I have dreamed of such a one as you, Fleet-of-Foot, and when the time comes, I will indeed, shrink our group as is befitting, as well as sharing my dream. I would now observe, however, that Trunk-of-Tree has shared a great learning for all of us. What would have sufficed for him to have learned the lesson of patience did not work for you. On the other hand, you have shown no learning whatever. The tree of your learning has not added a single branch or leaf so far as I can see. Fleet-of-Foot, you wished to win a race; lost the race; then showed no interest in discovering how you could have won the race. This is the way of “Fast-at-First-and-Slow-at-Last.” 

So, in turn, did each of the pairs recount their experiences and learnings. 

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Trunk-of-Tree made a basket very slowly and carefully. Yet, no-one wanted to trade very much for such a basket; not nearly enough to satisfy Trunk-of-Tree’s desire for compensation for so much time spent. Easy-Tears had been quite content to watch the strong hands of Trunk-of-Tree working the reeds over and under and through. It had been quite mesmerizing. She had said almost nothing during the making, but when Trunk-of-Tree found no-one willing to trade much for his basket, she showed Trunk-of-Tree how the addition of a some brightly colored dyes in a pleasing pattern changed such luck and how such additions made his sturdy basket much more desirable in the eyes of the clan. Trunk-of-Tree had been quite surprised at this common reaction. He had thought the purpose of a basket was to hold things and this goal he had accomplished quite well. However, Easy-Tears had shown him how just a little extra work, though not making the basket stronger or more functional, could greatly increase how badly others wanted such a useful basket. 

Shade-Walker and Eagle-Eyes recounted their adventures in jug making. At first, Shade Walker had mainly loved the feel of the wet clay spinning through his hands. With the hands of Eagle Eyes guiding his, however, he learned to enjoy the sight of the evolving shape as well. In the end, both had gone on to make a series of beautiful jugs. Eagle Eyes had ended up loving the feel of the wet clay, although what she had loved the most was the feel of Shade Walker’s fingers, she admitted. 

Eyes-of-Eagle explained that she found if very difficult to make a dream catcher under the tutelage of Fleet-of-Foot since she herself had wanted the end result to be beautiful and Fleet-of-Foot kept encouraging her to proceed more and more quickly. However, as Fleet-of-Foot at last perceived that his constant encouragement toward ever more speed made Eyes-of-Eagle both more error prone and more testy with him, he instead encouraged her by telling her that she was amazingly fast. Everyone could see that Fleet-of-Foot was again interested in speed; however, in this case, his interest had been more in speed of becoming more intimate with Eyes-of-Eagle than in the speed of making a dream catcher. 

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She-of-Many-Paths told of how she had wanted to make a tent for Shade Walker. Shade Walker had liked watching her and had asked if she were enjoying the process of making the tent. She had blushed — and had said that she was very much enjoying herself. After they get over their awkwardness, they had talked about the various ways of how-to and had decided together that being grounded and having a satisfying process are very much akin. Though these are different ways of how-to, one helps provide the other, they had surmised. This they shared with The Six and the shaman and all had agreed. 

Upon recounting and subsequent questioning, all learned that Easy-Tears had wanted the travois to be popular and had difficulty even understanding what She-of-Many-Paths meant by constructing a travois so that it encouraged a “grounded” view of life. Easy-Tears had been watching She-of-Many-Paths and Shade-Walker for some time however, and decided that what She-of-Many-Paths really wanted was Shade-Walker. Easy-Tears suggested that if She-of-Many-Paths wanted Shade-Walker, it would be best for everyone to be done quickly with the travois project so that She-of-Many-Paths could spend more time with Shade-Walker who had lately been spending much time with Eagle-Eyes, their long fingers inter-twined with those in the wet clay which they shaped together. In return, Easy-Tears had promised to teach She-of-Many-Paths the path to popularity and thereby to further increase the interest with which Shade-Walker would view She-of-Many-Paths. 

At the end of day, after every such recounting and dialogue, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives quietly took out a small, folded deerskin. This deerskin held a number of rings of hemp woven into a complex, repeating, yet ever-changing pattern. “The time has come,” she began, “to chose which among all the Veritas is ready to take on the next challenge. All of you have done well and should now be more of a contributor than ever to the Veritas. I have challenged you in many ways to see and feel as others do. In this, you have all shown much skill in the ways of empathy.”

“As you know, each of us is a small leaf on the very large Tree of Life, a tree that has been growing and expanding through all of earth. We are all connected: the people who are the Veritas, other people, other animals, every bird, every plant. We are all connected. With empathy, you may be able to tune in to the tree itself. As you have observed, when we sing and play music and dance, the self-same beat is in everyone and every drum vibrates. If two strings are of the same length, and one is plucked the other may also vibrate. The life in all is in all.

“Learning to tune in to the music, to the beat of another person, or to the great Tree of Life is a great gift to be greatly encouraged. However, you must understand that this is the Tree of Life itself that you are tuning into in order to understand others. When you do such tuning in, you must do so for the good of others, for this great Tree of Life. If instead, you tune in only to serve your own ends, you are using the Tree of Life in a way that destroys the tree itself. Empathy is a way to make us whole. It should never be used to divide us. 

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“Fleet-of-Foot, you had some ability to understand the way of Trunk-of-Tree. This knowledge you used to subvert the task at hand. You therefore emerged from the womb of this great opportunity for you to have learned patient working instead unchanged. You also used your understanding of Eyes-of-Eagle, not to help her learn other ways, but to flatter her to try to get her to become closer to you. Ultimately, this way of using empathy always pushes others away. Some may understand quickly and some may take years. But ultimately, tuning in to the Tree of Life in order to bend it to your own purpose will fail for you. It may also, as shown in my dream, cause the Tree of Life itself to fail. 

“Easy-Tears, you were honest and helpful in your work with Trunk-of-Tree. You helped him to understand in a deep way that the surface beauty of something, while it may not be of much value to him, is nonetheless of value to others. In this, you did well. However, you tried to use your knowledge of the affection that She-of-Many-Paths has for Shade-Walker to try to get her to accept your lack of being able to understand the way of how-to of grounding every action. She-of-Many-Paths saw through this ruse and told us honestly of what happened. Yours was also a misuse of empathy. You were not primarily interested in helping She-of-Many-Paths as you claimed, but were more interested in getting your task finished. Moreover, if you really understood deeply Trunk-of-Tree and She-of-Many-Paths, you would see that a surface popularity is not what draws them together. Rather, they are being drawn together by the Tree of Life itself; e.g., their own future children.

“Please understand. Your own ways of how-to are each valuable. And you are all skilled in empathy. For now, I bestow the Fourth and Fifth Rings of Empathy on only those who tune in to the great Tree of Life to help the great Tree of Life. If I become convinced at some future time that others have also learned this great lesson, they too may receive the Fourth and Fifth Rings. For now, please come to me to receive your rings for you have earned them.”

Trunk-of-Tree, Shade-Walker, Eyes-of-Eagles, and She-of-Many-Paths each came in turn, knelt before the shaman and received their double rings. Each such person had much to think about and they walked back to their lodgings in silence.  

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