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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Category Archives: politics

The Ides of February

17 Monday Feb 2025

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Democracy, life, poem, poetry, politics, truth

I took a trip to buy some eggs today.

I hear the price of eggs put Hate in play. 

The promises of “Cheaper!” filled the air. 

So loud that no one cared if lies are fair.

AI generated

The eggs were not at all a cheaper buy. 

In fact, the price is headed toward the sky. 

But that’s okay because at least we’re free

To be like Putin tells us all to be.

AI generated

As all our allies, all our friends depart.

The air begins to reek of rancid fart. 

We’re told to care about ourselves it seems.

Our solemn promises were merely dreams. 

Photo by Charles Parker on Pexels.com

Photo by bigworldinalens on Pexels.com

Instead a dank and Musky stench so foul,

It must have come from Satin’s belching bowel. 

An odor permeates the land and sea. 

The stink of sweat and swill — false sanctity. 

Photo by Zafar Mishkat on Pexels.com

As cowards “lead” who never fought a fight.

Betray at every turn to wrong a right.

Where once grew trees that perfumed healthy breeze 

A parking lot and chopping plot. Disease.

AI generated

Behind the teeny golden glove of hate,

The puppet strings of puke and Putinate.

Beneath the empty words, the lies, the screams. 

I hear the hushing rushing of the streams.

Photo by Aleksey Kuprikov on Pexels.com

The air and water sing their song of love.

A secret sauce dissolves an iron glove. 

We’ll think a link and find a way to join

With those whose highest goal is not mere coin. 

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

For cancer always loses in the end. 

The raging bull can’t see beyond the bend. 

The dance of life cannot be stilled for long.

The Evil falters, fails when faced with Strong.

The Age of Darkness cannot dwell and last.

The growers and the pickers holding fast;

Explorers and the builders and the rest;

The singers, dancers, counters—All are blessed.

Symphonic teaming all across the land.

A polyphonic omni-chromic band 

Will drown the clang and clatter of the brats

Who scream without rhythm, reason, or rhyme.

AI generated

Their song of “ME!” and “Gimme!” is no song at all.

No act they take can ever make them tall. 

Be gone! Crawl back into the Void of Hell.

The people hear the symphony, the knell. 

AI generated

That noise you bang upon your broken drum?

The people see it’s humdrum, glum, and dumb. 

We sing to each and organize each note. 

We work Together for the Good, not Gloat. 

The people seek their choral symphony;

Forgo the rancid raunch cacophony. 

The plumber, builder, doctor, driver, aide;

Accountant, artist, seller, teller, maid.

Photo by AfroRomanzo on Pexels.com

The people want to work to make life good. 

Contributors through history who could

Made our life better; who would not do such? 

The greedy few cannot begin to touch.

Photo by artawkrn on Pexels.com

Cooperation is our human gift. 

Our speech is there to bridge the natural rift

Of experts taught to see from different views. 

We cannot let the greedy slant the news. 

Some day, some year, some time that’s yet to be:

We’ll feel the power of humanity. 

Each working, playing, helping, each to be.

A World of Worth, of Love, and Dignity.

——————-

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Essays on America: The Game

Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Imagine All the People

Dick-Taters

As Gold as it Gets

Math Class: Who Are You?

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

You Gave me no Fangs

Snowflake

Come Back to the Light

Grammar, AI, and Truthiness

05 Thursday Dec 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

AI, Artificial Intelligence, Democracy, grammar, language, politics, truth

A few weeks ago, in preparing for a blog on the concept of “coming home,” I used a popular search engine to find out how far the sun moves in one year as it speeds through the galaxy. Before listing links, the search engine first provided an AI summary answer to questions. It gave an apt answer that seemed quantitatively correct. Then, astoundingly, it added the gratuitous gem: “This is called a light year.” 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It isn’t of course. A light year is how far light travels in a year, not how far the sun travels in a year. The sun travels at 6,942,672,000 kilometers per year. A light year is 9.46 trillion kilometers; more than a thousand times farther. It’s understandable in the sense that the word “sun” is often used in the same or similar contexts as “light.” But it’s an egregious error to be off by a factor of 1000. It would be like asking me how much my dog weighs and I answer 55,000 pounds instead of 55 pounds. A standard field for American football is 100 yards, not 100,000 yards (over 56 miles!). 

Generated by AI — note the location of the tire! I asked for a 55,000 pound dog, but this looks about the same size as the car which likely weighs far less than 55,000 pounds.

When I checked back a few days later, the offended nonsense no longer appeared. I have no idea how that happened. I forgot about this apparent glitch until Thanksgiving dinner. The topic came up of Arabic and I mentioned that I studied a little in anticipation of a work assignment that might make it useful. I mentioned that in Arabic, not only are nouns and adjectives gender-marked but so are verbs. One of the other guests said, “Yes, just like in Spanish and French.” I said, “No, that’s not right. German, Spanish, and French mark adjectives and nouns with gender but not verbs.” But they were insistent so I checked on my iPhone using the search engine. To my astonishment, in response to the question, “Which languages mark verbs with gender?” I got the following answer:

“Languages like French, Spanish, German, Italian, Portuguese, and most Slavic languages mark gender in verbs, meaning the verb conjugation changes depending on the grammatical gender of the subject noun; essentially, a verb will have different forms depending on whether the subject is masculine or feminine.” 

This is not so. And, in the next paragraph, incredibly, there are examples given, but in the examples, the verbs are not marked differently at all! The AI had made an error, but an error that at least one human being had also made. 

Now, I sensed a challenge. Can I construct another such query with a predicted “bad logic” result? Is there a common element of “misunderstanding” between the two cases? Intuitively, it feels as though there’s a way in which these two errors are similar though I’m not sure I can put a name to it. Perhaps it’s something like: “A is strongly associated with B and B is strongly associated with C, so A is strongly associated with C.” That’s typically not even a fallacy. The fallacy comes with actually equating A and C because they are strongly associated. 

It reminds me of several things. First, my wonderful dog Sadie knows the meanings of many words—at least in some sense of “knows the meaning of.” When we go for a walk, and other dogs come into view, I remark on it: “Oh, here comes a doggie” or “There’s someone walking with their dog.” Or, when a dog barks in the distance, I say, “I hear a doggie.” For several weeks prior to getting her little brother Bailey, my wife and I would tell her something like, “In a few weeks, we’re going to get a little doggie that will be your friend to play with.” When we got to the word “doggie” she would immediately alert and even sometimes bark. She has similar reactions to other words as do most dogs. They “understand” the word “walk” but if you say something like “I can’t take you for a walk now, but later this afternoon, we can go for a walk” you can well imagine that what she picks out of that is the word “walk” and she gets all excited. Same with “ball” or “feed you.” 

The AI error also seems vaguely human. I can easily imagine some people concluding that a “light year” is the distance the sun travels in a year. A few years ago, a video was widely circulated in which recent Harvard grads were asked to explain why it was warmer in the summertime. Many answered that the earth is closer to the sun in the summer. It’s totally a wrong answer, but it isn’t a completely stupid answer. After all, if you get closer to a heater or a fireplace, it feels warmer and when you walk away, it feels cooler. We’ve all experienced this thousands of times. 

The AI errors also seem related to the human foible of presuming that a name accurately represents reality. For example, many people believe that the sun does not shine on the “dark side of the moon.” After all, it is called “the dark side.” Advertisers use this particular fallacy to their advantage. When we moved from New York to California, we paid for having our stuff “fully covered” which we falsely believed meant “fully covered.” What it actually means in “insurance-speak” is that things are covered at some fixed rate like five cents a pound. Huh? Other examples of misleading words include “All natural ingredients” which has no legal significance whatsoever. 

As I suspected, the AI system has an answer that is not unlike what many humans would say:

There are several advantages to buying food with all-natural ingredients, including:

  • Health benefits
    Natural foods can help with blood sugar and diabetes management, heart health, and reducing the risk of cancer. They can also improve sleep patterns, boost the immune system, and help with children’s development. 






  • Environmental benefits
    Organic farming practices prioritize the health of the soil and ecosystem, and are less likely to pollute water sources or harm animals. 






  • Supporting local economies
    Locally grown food is picked at its peak ripeness, which can lead to more flavor. Buying local food also supports local farmers and producers. 






  • Nutritional superiority
    Organic ingredients have higher levels of essential nutrients than conventional ingredients. 






  • Superior taste
    Fresh ingredients can taste much better than non-fresh ingredients. 

  • Health benefits





The first statement is problematic. Why? Because claiming something has all-natural ingredients has zero legal significance. The advertisers, of course, want you to believe that “All-Natural Ingredients” means something; in fairness, it should. But it doesn’t. Everything that follows lists positive benefits of things that are often associated with claims of being all-natural.



The AI answers reflect what is “out there” on the Internet and much of it is simply propaganda. There are many scientific facts that can also be found on the Internet too, but popularity seems to define truth for the AI system. Imagine that one of the major political parties mounted an effort funded heavily by extremely wealthy people that claimed there was genetic evidence that rich people should be rich. There is nothing (apparently) to prevent the AI system from “learning” this “fact.” And, there is nothing (apparently) to prevent many citizens from “learning” this “fact.” 

————————

The Self-Made Man

Dick-Taters

Tools of Thought

A Lot is not a Little 

Turing’s Nightmares on Amazon

A Mind of Its Own

As Gold as It Gets

All that Glitters is not Gold

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing







The Mango Mussolini

30 Monday Sep 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry, politics

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

life, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

The Mango Musso knows a shorter cut!

Just pass it quickly on! Just pass it on! 

The Melon Felon knows a better way!

We need not trek and tote and slog along!

This longish path along the creek’s a pain!

Let’s head instead across the desert’s dunes!

It may look dry; and yet, it’s bound to rain!

He’ll tap his wand; transform to plum dessert!

We know it’s true! It can’t be lies! Oh, no!

Pass it on! He orchestrates the crowd!

He yells it very very very loud!

It must be therefore certainly true of course!

He acts so proud! He screams so loud of hate!

Inhale the toxic fumes of Agitate!

Cannot you see? The hate is clear as day!

He’s out to check and jail and then to slay!

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

And once the drecks, and whacks and nerds are dead,

We just must lie and kill for Master’s sake.

It’s what he said! You see? It’s what he said!

And therefore must be good and new and true!

Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

It’s not my fault I lost my house!

It’s not my fault I lost my spouse!

It’s not my fault I broke my mouse!

It’s not my fault! I need to grouse!

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

It can’t be Greeds who stole my gold!

How could they ever be that cold!

It must be folks from other lands!

Who eat our pets; chew rubber bands!

We’ll let Putin end the strife!

He and Felon are such friends!

They’re oh so smart and never would lie!

And ours is not to question why!

They never have to futz with friends!

“There is no truth; there’s only bends!”

And all is well! He tells us so!

Until—-

Photo by j.mt_photography on Pexels.com

Putin points out that he’s ten inches longer

And naturally that makes him oh so much stronger.

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

And then at long last all that money we wasted

On H-bombs—It won’t be wasted any longer!

No. Instead, we’ll all get lambasted!

We get to be cooked like a turkey is basted!

The taste of death is all we tasted!

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The Melon Felon himself once said:

“What good are nukes if we can’t even use them?!

What good are people if I can’t make them dead?

Did I mention I have the world’s smartest head?”

No more migrants! No more pets!

No more people! Everything’s solved!

Civilization at last completely dissolved!

No more jets! No more bets!

(But who could blame you?

All you needed to draw 

Were five sequential spades

And you would have won that hand).

That little hand. Who plays a one man band!

He plays an accordion of the mind.

Makes promises just as solid as sand.

Don’t seek truth! You’ll never find!

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

He wants to choke and each light dim

Who isn’t him or progeny.

He wears religious cloak

And wraps the flag around him.

Photo by Michael Willinger on Pexels.com

Orange you glad now you didn’t face 

The truth about His Felonious Grace?

Just swallow these lies and you will see

The painful end of all humanity!

Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

————

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

The Update Problem

What about the Butter Dish?

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

The First Ring of Empathy

Plans for US; some GRUsome

The Stopping Rule

Try the Truth

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar! 

The Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

A Profound and Utter Failure

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Author Page on Amazon

Travels with Sadie 3: Gates, Doors, & Walls

07 Saturday Sep 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, pets, politics

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Democracy, life, politics, truth, USA

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” 

So begins Robert Frost’s poem, The Mending Wall. 

I was thinking about gates, doors, and walls as I went walking with Sadie on a sunny Thursday morning. We typically walk along the sides of streets. I let her wander onto the edges, but not onto other people’s yards or very far down their driveways. Often there are gates, much like our own gate. If the gate is closed and isn’t too far from the road, I often let her walk up to the gate. The gates are there both to prevent us from entering someone else’s property and to signal us not enter the property. I could, if my life depending on it, scale many of the gates, but that’s clearly asking for trouble. The gate is meant to keep people out, not as a challenge to overcome. Sadie generally couldn’t get through the bars of the gates. Of course, a gate is no barrier at all to birds, rabbits, mice, rats, lizards, snakes, raccoons, butterflies, or bees.

 

A door seems to me to offer more security than does a gate. While a gate may prevent me from entering, it’s quite easy to see through or around most gates, to hear the noise from the other side and to smell what’s on the other side. It’s true that one may listen through a door but the sound is typically muffled. Loud music or yelling creeps through to the outside but a conversation normally stays private. 

A door also helps the inside stay warmer or cooler than the outside air. A gate has no such function. 

Among places dogs leave olfactory messages for each other, boundaries are high on the list. This includes hedges, curbs, and gates. Sadie “controls herself” well now, but when she was younger, she would often pee at the boundary of a social event. Specifically, when someone—especially someone new or someone she already liked but hadn’t seen for awhile, she’d pee. She also seems to understand what I mean when I say, “Sadie, we’re going for a ride in the car. You should go pee first and then we can get in the car.” I don’t think she “parses” the sentence and accesses the meanings of all the individual words. Nonetheless, she quickly pees and then goes over to get in the car. 

A wall is a kind of transition as well. A gate is much more permeable than a wall and a door may be opened or closed or ajar. Often walls, such as castle walls have one or more gates or doors. People on one side of a wall almost always want to get to the other side, at least occasionally. At the very least, they want to be able to move information and goods from inside to outside and vice versa. 

Why walls? The walls of a house keep you in a more easily controlled environment. A wall can provide a level of protection. That’s mainly what castle walls are for. Of course, they often fail as well. Invaders climb the walls or tear down the walls or burrow under the walls until the wall collapses. Of course, castles were also subject to sieges. Eventually, the defenders inside would run out of food. Primitive machines were constructed to hurl firebrands and large rocks in to wreak havoc and kill defenders. 

The Greeks were unable to defeat the Trojans by destroying their castle. Instead, they famously made a large wooden horse as a “tribute” to the courage and tenacity of the Trojans. Overjoyed that the long siege was over, they opened the gates and led in the giant wooden horse and began to celebrate. Once everyone was drunk or sleeping, the soldiers hidden inside the horse snuck out and opened the gates to the much larger Greek army waiting outside. 

Photo by Salih Altuntas on Pexels.com

Today’s technology is much more sophisticated of course, but walls, gates, and doors still exist. The defensive capabilities now include guided missiles, aircraft, submarines, and aircraft carriers as well as the threat of nuclear retaliation. During the so-called “Cold War” America and the USSR engaged in an “arms race” to develop the best weapons and more of them. Looking back on all the wasted energy and time on both sides, I think, “Imagine what could have been done if we had instead spent all that resource on preventing climate change, curing disease, and sponsoring science and education. 

Of course, it’s not an easy problem. One side in a standoff can only stand down unilaterally if they trust the other side. Meanwhile, none of the amazing and exorbitantly expensive weapons, walls, doors, and gates we’ve developed are worth anything at all if we accept the modern Trojan Horse.



Social media, the press, the television, and nearly half of the political candidates spew misinformation on a daily, even hourly basis. We’re locked in a political race and one of the two candidates for President is himself a Trojan Horse. Like the ancient Trojans, all our walls and armaments will be useless. 

The threat to America is, in many ways, worse than the threat to ancient Troy. The Trojan Horse that endangers us? It’s a steady steam of lies designed to induce Americans to kill each other. 

No number of fighter jets; no cache of assault rifles; no armada of submarines; no hordes of fighters will save us from the Trojan Horse. The Trojan Horse is armored with something far more powerful than iron, steel, or depleted uranium. The Trojan Horse’s armor is your own mind. 

Only courage will work to save you. It is not the courage to face an army. It is the courage to admit that you’ve been conned; that you were wrong; that you have been led down a garden path that leads nowhere near where you ever wanted to go. 

Find that courage. 

———————————-

The Mending Wall 

My Cousin Bobby

Where does your loyalty lie?

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem

Guernica

What About the Butter Dish?

Dick-Taters

The Game

A Profound and Utter Failure

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Plans for US; some GRUesome

They Lost the Word for War

Author Page on Amazon

The Loyalty Test

14 Sunday Apr 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, story

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

fiction, life, politics, story, truth, USA

Photo by ShonEjai on Pexels.com

“I never took a test. There’s been a mistake. I’m a supporter.”

“Shut up or I’ll break every finger. Capiche?”

The guard grinned a moon of bloody teeth and pushed his nightstick against Bob’s lips. Hard.



Bob grunted but said nothing; decided he’d bide his time for now. This will all get sorted later. 

It didn’t get sorted. Why would it? Along with tens of thousands of other “supporters” the only thing Bob got for his support? A free one-way ticked to the burn pits. He’d been beaten enough that when his time came, he jumped of his own accord.  

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

—————

Dick-Taters

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

Such a teeny, tiny loser man

D4: Dictator’s Delusion Disease

Three Blind Mice

Guernica

A Civil War there Never Was

Essays on America: The Game

Absolute is not just a Vodka

The Ailing King of Agitate

Meeting with Da Da

Author Page on Amazon

A Civil War there Never Was

12 Friday Apr 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry, politics

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

life, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

Photo by THIS IS ZUN on Pexels.com

She might have checked.

He might have sighed. 

They might have thought

Before they fought.

A civil war there never was. 

But you know how they are. 

They’re really all the same!

Or so it seems in dreams

On social media streams.

A civil war there never was.

A civil war there never was.

The first rules of society: 

Do not destroy what you cannot make;

Pretend to do; then, only fake.

And if in some bromance, 

You somehow came to think

That war will fix your life,

Strife begets more strife.

A civil war there never was. 

Guernica

Dick-Taters

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Who Won the War

Author Page on Amazon

All the Roads not Taken

20 Wednesday Mar 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

faith, life, poem, poetry, spirituality, truth, USA

The day breaks sunny…

There’s still a dewy chill about…

I see the distant hill…

I fancy hiking the faraway path…

I imagine the panoramic scene…

But my ankles ache… 

Beneath my bone tired shins…

And I can do the math…

It is a lovely path indeed…

But not mine this day…

Perhaps never my path…

Photo by Cup of Couple on Pexels.com

Perhaps never my path…

To trod the jungles of a foreign land…

Like my dad and his shrapnel-shattered shin…

Or die in an angry hail of mindless bullets…

Or be collateral damage in a war that surrounds me…

On every side where every path is a Möbius band…

Coaxing me back to needless death…

Perhaps never my path…

Perhaps never my path…

But the paths of so many others…

Who thought they took the smart path…

The safe path; the only path they saw…

Drowning in the razor-wired river of fear…

Whistles of a distant hawk…

I hear and heed and whistle back…

Perhaps that is how a missile sounds afar…

Before the bomb explodes us all to body parts…

Perhaps never my path…

Photo by Ahmed akacha on Pexels.com

Perhaps never my path..

But the path of so many others is filled with fear…

Choked by the stench of death…

Smeared by the char of fire and wrath…

Who will see the panoramic view instead…

Who will see that bird and bee…

Dance with flower and tree most lovingly…

Who will take that path…

If it is never my path…

If it is ever my path…

To stumble up the rock-strewn way…

To look about and report back…

To those who could not make the trek…

Then however much I lack…

I must play the only play I have…

Recount the story as well as I am able…

Wrapped in song or poem or fable…

Unwrap the self-placed blinders…

That make it seem that all they’ve lost…

Can be replaced and sanctified by hate…

While I see chaos in the heart and soul…

The tale must be told in bold and sold…

The scroll of right and reason…

In daylight clear and present…

If it is ever my path…

Photo by Kris Mu00f8klebust on Pexels.com

If it is ever my path…

Even to tell a single seeming stranger…

About the ever smoking dangling danger…

I must dance that deadly dance…

I must chance that deadly chance…

Chance the wrath…

It is my path… 

Photo by Avery Nielsen-Webb on Pexels.com

It is my path… 

And I will whistle to the soaring hawk…

And I will hum to every buzzing bee…

And I will breathe it to the birds and trees…

And I will find and feel the love in every blade…

That strives to push aside the dirt and feel the light…

I cannot take each and every path…

But I can take one path…

And so may you take your path…

And we can together do the math…

Together, we can do the math.


How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Only Them that Counts is All of Us

Labelism

Life is a Dance

Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field

Stoned Soup

Dance of Billions

We are a Mountain

Author Page on Amazon

Meeting With Da Da

14 Thursday Mar 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, fiction, life, politics, Putin, Russia, story, truth, Ukraine, USA

When facts are hidden, the imagination blossoms. The facts of meetings between the former guy and Vlademort Putrid are known. You may have forgotten. I have not. 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2019/10/04/trump-has-spoken-privately-with-putin-least-times-heres-what-we-know-about-conversations

What we do know is that the former guy’s body language consistently shows that Putin is the dominant of the two. The former guy often looks a lot like a whipped dog. His eyes are downcast. His head is down. His shoulders are hunched. He contorts himself to look lower than Putin. 

His statements about Putin (and other dictators) consistently show his admiration for brutal, cruel, murderous dictators. That is in contrast to his statements about democratically elected heads of state and American politicians, including those in his own party.

We also know that the former guy was born rich; lost a fortune; then begged his daddy for more. The former guy was not daddy’s favorite child, at least initially. TFG’s mother was often sick. If the American public knows this, you can be sure that former KGB officers knows it as well. 

What follows is fiction. It is fiction in the sense that American citizens have no way to find out what actually happened in the secret meetings between Putin and the former guy. 

Here is a link to a series of four fictional stories. As time goes on, however, it seems more and more probably that something like this may well have happened. 

Plans for us; some GRUesome.

Here’s a link to another earlier blog post that seems resonant today. 

Trumpism is a New Religion

Now, let’s turn to the dialog. 

“No, Mister President, don’t worry. I can speak some English. And I have my translator here. Given that you’re such a smart guy, I’m sure you probably picked up few words of Russian. You know word for yes, da?” 

“Yes, President Putin. I mean, da!” 

“Good. Excellent. I don’t understand how the people in your country fail to realize how lucky they are to have someone as competent as you. And realistic. Not hung up on silly abstractions. Don’t you agree?”

“Da! Da!”

“And, just as you get a lot of unfair criticism, so do I. It’s jealousy. People in other countries are jealous Russia’s strength and progress. So, they tell lies about people I supposedly murder. You know it’s all lies, right?” 

“Da! Da!” 

“You know, it’s odd. Your English slang word for father, ‘Dada’ sounds lot like the Russian words for ‘yes, yes.’ And, that reminds me. I heard a rumor that your dada favored Fred Junior. But you got the good genes. Eventually, your dada figured out that you were the smart one—the one destined for greatness. Isn’t that right?”

“Da. Da.”

“By the way, did you know my people call me ‘Papa Putin’? Wouldn’t it drive liberals and your other detractors crazy if you called me Dada?” 

 

“That’s a great idea! It would drive them nuts! Serve them right, Dada.” 

“Yes, indeed. I know some people may try to rein you or make you behave like normal President. Don’t do it! Keep acting cra—unique. Keep acting unique. Different. That way, your fans have no way of knowing where you stand except by listening to you that day. And when you say something crazy—unique, I mean, like ‘pollution is good for you’  your fans will instantly repeat it. They will vie for most followers or most likes and for retweets by you—best prize of all. And liberals? They’ll go nuts. And you know what they’ll do? They will also repeat what you say! It’s amazing. They’ll say: 

You know what crazy guy just said? That pollution is good for you! How stupid do you have to be to think that pollution is good for you? It kills! Ridiculous to think pollution is good for you!

“And, so Donald, do you know what people who delude themselves that they are independents will remember from those antics in three months time?” 

“Yes. I mean da. Da. Da! Dada. Pollution is good! Pollution is good! Which is also a good excuse to give tax breaks to the rich.” 

“My God, Donald, you are smart! Too bad your people don’t realize. Well, many do of course. Eventually, once you gain power, the rest will join your ranks. Everyone will know.”

“Da! Da! Dada! I should get you something! What would you like?” 

“Donald, do you remember how cool it was when you were kid and it was America versus the USSR? Olympics! UN! Foreign wars! Two sides! To USSR, you were evil. To us, you were evil. Wonderful times. Now, you’ve got these terrorist groups, lots nations with H-Bombs, and for what? It’s hell for everyone. See what I mean?”

“Da. Dada. I do.” 

“And, you know, we’re like favorite band that split up. We just want to get back together band. For instance, part of Russia we call ‘The Ukraine.’ It’s actually part of Russia as you know. You do, know that, right, Donald?” 

“Da! Da!” 

“Good, well don’t forget in case—they are just sort of people incite us to war. We might have to liberate Russians inside Ukraine. You are smart man. You will know enough to back us up. Right?”

“Da. Da. Dada.” 

“Donald, you know what? You are favorite among all world leaders. We’ll rule together long time.” 

“Da.” 

Photo by Denniz Futalan on Pexels.com

—————————————-

Absolute is not just a vodka

Poker Chips

Dick-Taters

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

All we stand to lose

Dance of Billions

Author Page on Amazon

All We Stand to Lose

13 Wednesday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

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

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

That makes sense. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

—————-

And when the people blinked their eyes,

They found there wasn’t any prize. 

Their faith in lies had no reward.

Those they loved were put to sword.

Photo by Ben Phillips on Pexels.com

Two century’s worth of progress died. 

The nation humbled once had pride. 

A sales switch and fever pitch.

Soon love was kicked into a ditch. 

Photo by Suliman Sallehi on Pexels.com

The greed for power trumped it all.

There were no eyes upon the ball. 

A million lies but no-one cared.

A million dead since no-one dared. 

Photo by judit agusti aranda on Pexels.com

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Dick-Taters

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

The Dance of Billions

A “Strong Man”

11 Monday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

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

Photo by Pikx By Panther on Pexels.com

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

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

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

The strong admit to mistakes and learn from them.

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

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

The strong lead by appealing to the best in others.

The strong are not afraid of love.

The strong show gratitude and humility.

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

The weak demand everyone accept their ideas without debate.

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

Photo by Julissa Helmuth on Pexels.com

The weak surround themselves with cowardly sycophants.

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

The weak show others contempt.

Choose wisely.

————

Absolute is not just a vodka.

Dick-Taters

The Crows and Me

The Orange Man

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

Author page on Amazon

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