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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Category Archives: Uncategorized

Tomorrow’s Dinner

13 Thursday Feb 2025

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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fiction, health, history, life, news

AI-generated image

Main Scream Media Host Sandy: “Well, it looks like another exciting day of breaking news! Hard to tell what the Putinists will think of next. Chet, you’re right there on the Senate floor. Is Cyanide likely to be confirmed as the main ingredient in tomorrow night’s dinner or might some of the Putinists break ranks and defy President Muskmelon?” 

“That’s an excellent question, Sandy, and no-one knows for sure. Several of the Putinists have privately expressed reservations since Cyanide is known to be lethal. Snoozy Callins has even gone so far as to finger her pearls. No-one knows whether she will actually go so far as to clutch them. However, as you know, under oath, Cyanide said quite clearly that he had no intentions of poisoning anyone. But we’ll be right here covering every minute so our audience will have up to the minute coverage about whether they’ll be poisoned in the coming days!”

“Thanks for the great reporting Chet and after this short commercial break, we’ll be right back to hear from our panel of experts about the impact and legality of putting Cyanide in food.”

AI generated image. Notice the ladder leans on nothing.

The camera pans to a shot of two men on top of a roof. The first man, dressed in blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt swings he legs over the side and begins to descend the ladder, one step at a time. When he’s about halfway down, the second man, dressed in elegant and stylish ebony Ninja gear leaps off the roof, beating him to the pavement below by quite a margin.

Announcer: “Which is faster? Climbing down a ladder one step at a time or taking a Flying Leap? Our studies show that Flying Leap is just as effective in getting to the bottom as ladder climbing but ten times faster!” 

The camera shows the ladder climbing man still descending and then pans to the Ninja who scampers off into a field of flowers and butterflies while orchestral music swells. A happy muttering voice, barely audible, says, “Some users taking Flying Leap may experience simple fractures. On rare occasions, ruptured spleens or sepsis inducing compound fractures may occur. Check with your health care provider if you are pregnant, plan on becoming pregnant, or are subject to the forces of gravity.” 

The Announcer continues: “Ask your health care provider whether Flying Leap is right for you! Why climb down a ladder when you can take one Flying Leap instead?” 

The golden sunrise glows through delicate leaves covered with dew drops.
My photograph from the real world: plants with dew in the sunrise.

Sandy: “We have here our panel of experts covering the political spectrum. Let’s start with you Mary. You’re an MD specializing in toxicology. What’s your take on Cyanide?”

Mary: “Thanks for having me Sandy. Cyanide reactions vary a lot depending on dosage and on pre-existing conditions. Generally speaking, Cyanide is known to be poisonous to humans. In fact, it is among the most deadly poisons. On the other hand, chewing one or two apple seeds won’t typically kill anyone. The poison damages both the brain and the heart. It has been used in warfare and in mass suicides.” 

Sandy: “Thanks, Mary. That was very enlightening. Let’s move to Jim, an expert on Constitutional Law. Jim, what’s your take on whether or not putting Cyanide in tomorrow’s dinner is Constitutional?” 

Jim: “Hi, Sandy. Thanks again for inviting me. Cyanide has been used for poisoning since ancient times. However, it wasn’t chemically isolated until 1782. Theoretically then, the Founding Fathers would have known that Cyanide was poisonous. However, there is no explicit mention of it in the Constitution nor even in the various letters of the time—at least none that I am aware of. Some have argued that this is clearly antithetical to the phrase in the Declaration of Independence “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness” since dead people don’t have life, liberty or the pursuit of happiness. However much we might like the Declaration of Independence, it does not have the force of law. However, both the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution say that no person shall be deprived of Life without Due Process. Of course, therein lies a tale. Some of the current Injustices on the US Extreme Court have signaled a willingness to re-interpret personhood to refer only to their wealthiest donors and their spawn, born or unborn.”

Sandy: “Thanks, Jim. That’s very instructive if a bit esoteric. I’m afraid that’s all we have time for right now because we’ve just gotten word that Cyanide has been confirmed for dinner tomorrow. Let’s get back to the Floor and our reporter right there on the scene, Chet. Chet, what’s the latest?”

Chet: “Hi, Sandy! Cyanide has just been confirmed. Two Trumputinists registered a “No Vote” but that was not enough to block Cyanide. The Dems have introduced a bill to make poisoning the population illegal by any means, but that’s unlikely to go anywhere. However, they are asking for campaign donations and if they get enough money tonight and tomorrow, there will be plenty of speeches in the next twenty-four hours. Count on it.”

Sandy: “Well, that’s all for us this evening. I wish you all a wonderful time putting your affairs in order. Tomorrow, we’ll continue our coverage of these unprecedented times. 

My photo from a sunrise walk.

————————

My Cousin Bobby

The Update Problem

The Orange Man

The Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

You Bet Your Life

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie

Essays on America: The Game

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Poker Chip

The Crows and Me

Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar 

Navigating in the Fog

11 Friday Oct 2024

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Uncategorized

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Democracy, life, politics, story, truth

When you find yourself in fog, you need to stop and think. Normally, you can see what’s out there more easily and people will have a hard time seeing you.

But that assumes you even realize you’re in the fog. If you’ve been in the fog long enough, you may not even realize it.

That might happen because you’ve been in the fog a long time, but it can also happen if you keep your focus firmly fixed on what is right in front of you. You might ask your neighbors what they see, and if they keep their eyes firmly fixed on what is right in front of them, they might also fail to realize they’re in the fog.

You’ll never get to the point of thinking about what generates the fog or why they do it. Halloween is coming.

(Generated by AI).

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Poker Chips

The Ailing King of Agitate

My Cousin Bobby

The Update Problem

What about the butter dish?

Essays on America: Wednesdays

You Bet your Life

Happy Talk Lies

The Game

The Stopping Rule

The Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

Donnie’s Last Gift

Plans for US; some GRUsome

Travels with Sadie 1: Lamppost, Sign Pole, and Fire Hydrant.

23 Tuesday Jul 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Democracy, dogs, life, pets, politics, truth

Did you ever read “Travels with Charley” by Steinbeck? “Charley” is the name of Steinbeck’s dog who travels with him on a car trip across America, or at least the first 48 states thereof. My wife and I—and our dog Sadie— recently met up with my cousin-in-law (is that a word? I guess it is now). Cousin-in-law Timm loves dogs too and suggested I should do a similar journal called “Travels with Sadie” and this is, indeed, the first chapter of “Travels with Charley.” 

I chose this topic while reflecting, as I often do, on what the world is like for Sadie and her kin. Sadie, like most, is thrilled to meet other dogs. If she can’t meet them in person, the next best thing is to sniff the spots where they peed. Although she hasn’t yet reached estrous, in the last few months, she’s been behaving differently with respect to the pee residue of female dogs on the ground and male dogs, which are on bushes, trees, lampposts, sign poles, and fire hydrants.   

It seems that the males inordinately prefer lampposts, sign poles, and fire hydrants over trees. That, to me, at first seemed curious. After all, trees have been in the picture for dogs and their ancestors for millions of years. These manufactured artifacts are brand new. 

Here’s my hypothesis. In the long-ago days of dogs, some dogs took it upon themselves to signal their presence by peeing on manufactured posts while others preferred trees. A post has fewer distractions—visual, aural, and most importantly, the olfactory sense. Thus, the post-preferring peers had a more impressive social presence resulting in more mating and more envy—higher ranking in the pack. Over time, the post-preferring peers proliferated and prospered. 

Over time, and perhaps even initially, the individual dog itself could “learn” that it had left a more salient and more lasting impression. How? Because they go back to the spot they themselves peed in, often repeatedly. Thus, they would learn that make a splash in the dog world, you’re better off with a human artifact. The fact that it smells like a human when it is first put into place may well “seed” the site as a place to exchange messages—perhaps a kind of canine Facebook—only not really the face. 

It also turns out that lampposts, sign poles, and fire hydrants signify three essential functions of a society. Lampposts are to shine light on reality. Medical research, science research, education, public service announcements, and books. To some extent, our laws are also a kind of lamppost. “Look people, we’ve learned the hard way, that it’s not good to steal. Don’t do it.”

Well, if that’s not clear enough, fine, we’ll write 100,000 pages of clarification. 

Sign posts include, to me, norms and customs, as well as directions of various sorts. There’s often a tension between lampposts and sign poles. The sign poles take work to design, manufacture, transport, and erect. That stop sign down the street didn’t just fall off the coconut tree. Similarly, customs, for instance, separating the work of men and women so that all nurses were women and all men were doctors, take work to implement and to enforce. People will not always stop at a stop sign and especially if they are never ticketed. Similarly, there will be individual women who desire to become a doctor and men who want to be nurses. There will always be tension in such customs between the norm and the individual desires. 

Photo by Midory Pho on Pexels.com

Imagine after a lot of work has gone into putting up the stop sign, the lamppost function of government sponsors a study that shows it would be much better to put in a traffic circle (roundabout) rather than the four stop signs. More traffic gets through faster and there are fewer accidents. You can easily imagine some resistance. The people who profit from making the stop signs, for instance, and the police officers who ticket those who only come to a “rolling stop.” The drivers may also object. Many of them aren’t used to traffic circles. Some initial awkwardness is predictable. 

To me, the fire hydrant represents the protective aspects of government. There are many! There are agencies, like the FDA, that ensure the cleanliness of our food and water. (Believe it or not, there are some providers who are so greedy, that they would actually sell you tainted food or drink if it would make them richer.) There are the Armed Forces, the Fire Departments, the Police Forces. In a way, Social Security and Medicare also fall into this region. It is a protective function of government. 

Sadie, meanwhile, is sacked out on the couch across from me. She’s had an active day; two long walks, zoomies, swimming, and ball playing. Our dog, like many, is very loving. She’s wary of anything new. But soon, she’ll be head over heels in love with another person.

The very greedy people who would have you kowtow to them while they steal the fruits of your labor love to use the rationalization that it’s a “Dog eat dog world out there.” It isn’t actually. Neither humans (for the most part) nor dogs (for the most part) are out there eating others of their own species. We are both pack animals. We both love and protect our families. Is there competition? Sure. But it’s all done in the scope of a cooperative society.

The natural tension between conservatives and liberals has a lot to do with how quickly one wants to see lamppost findings supplant existing psychic and physical infrastructure. And it is a very legitimate debate to have. Most do not want the extreme that every new finding in, say, medical research should instantaneously turn traditions and practices on their heads. Also, most do not want to ignore all new science and discovery and keep everything static forever. 

Photo by Stephen Andrews on Pexels.com

What is not a legitimate debate is for one side, like a spoiled toddler, to insist that if they don’t get their way, they’ll burn our civilization to the ground. Sadie wouldn’t do that. Nor would I. Nor would most Americans. 

Dick-taters

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Essays on America: The Game

The Ailing King of Agitate

The only them that counts is all of us

Dance of Billions 

Author Page on Amazon

Who Won the War?

24 Sunday Mar 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

Democracy, history, life, news, poetry, society, USA, war

Photo by Avery Nielsen-Webb on Pexels.com

The war begins and we begin to count

The dead and wounded: such and such and much.

We scrutinize the numbers as they mount

We dare not feel the shattered dreams they touch.

We analyze and matricize results.

Declare a victory when none exists.

The thought that someone wins a war insults. 

This myth through every fog of war persists. 

The would-be poet, teacher, engineer.

The father, mother, uncle, nephew, son.

The old, the young, the crooked, straight & queer.

The war hurts you and me and everyone.

 

Division and subtraction do not build. 

No souls are filled with joy; no gardens tilled. 

In each armed conflict both sides lose. Such waste!

Humanity needs everyone! Make haste!

Photo by Denniz Futalan on Pexels.com

———————-

Turning to prose: 

One of the things that the “winning side” of a war loses is the opportunity to spend those resources spent on war instead spent on making life better for its citizens. Even if the “winners” have a very quick and lopsided victory, they will have contributed to world-wide pollution and global climate change that will negatively impact nearly everyone on the planet including most of the people on the “winning” side and their descendants. Many of the soldiers will have died, but in almost every single case, many more innocent people will have died. In some cases, those will be minimal for the “winning” side, but not always. Meanwhile, soldiers who returned to society, even if they are not physically impacted permanently are surely impacted psychologically. Among other things, if they were successful, they killed other human beings. Some of those human beings were almost certainly innocents, but even the other soldiers were mainly people forced into fighting.

In a way, they will be carrying seeds of some very bad experiences and some of those seeds will undoubtedly leak out into that person’s environment impacting, his friends and family, as well as random strangers. But the war mentality is not limited to serious effects on fighting soldiers. To some small extent, everyone is damaged. There is more stress for everyone. There is always the threat of reprisal or that someone you care deeply about will be maimed or killed. Not only are people’s sense of fear heightened; typically, so is their hatred and anger. For many, this will be directed far beyond those actually most responsible for starting a war. 

During a war, people will be asked, or ask themselves, to view the killing of a whole bunch of their fellow humans as the best course of action. Some will embrace that with relish and a side order of over-generalization. Others will embrace the killing with reluctance. Few will object outright. So, after your victory, you will be living in a society that rationalizes killing others more often and more easily than they did before. Of course, it’s generally even worse for the “losing” society. Both sides lose. The “losing side” loses more and that keeps the war fueled as long as possible. But make no mistake. Both sides lose. 

Democracies have often gone to war against each other. But far more often in modern times, war has been instigated by dictators. They rule by hate and fear. Having an enemy is an entry fee and a talking point. If there’s no-one else around, they’ll simply pick on the vulnerable within their own society. Through constant repetition about extremely rare cases or even just outright lies, people can actually be made to hate people who have, in reality, done them zero harm. 

Time to wake up. 

——————

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

Three Blind Mice

The Ailing King of Agitate

Plans for us

Dick-taters

Absolute is not just a vodka

Cancer always loses in the end

Dance of Billions

All the Roads not Taken

20 Wednesday Mar 2024

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

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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

Family Matters: Part Four

13 Wednesday Mar 2024

Posted by petersironwood in family, nature, pets, psychology, science, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, family, family-reunion, life, truth

When we see that word “Family” most of us think of a relatively small number of people. Maybe when you saw it, you thought of your family of origin. Maybe you thought of your family of generation. Maybe you thought of the people who live in your home which may include some of each. When I was a kid, we had “Family Reunions” which included the extended family of my maternal grandmother. It did not extend to my maternal grandfather’s family nor to my dad’s relatives. Typically, there were 30-40 people who showed up. I know of “Family Reunions” which are much larger, involving hundreds of people. Years ago, when I wrote in this blog of “Family Matters” I mentioned a subset of people who attended my “Family Reunions.”

Occasionally, people think of humanity as their family. I have been lucky enough to visit a respectable number of countries (28) and I’ve met people from over a hundred and in every single instance, it’s very easy to see that they are basically like me both physically and mentally.

Like many people, I was brought up in a religious tradition that reinforced the idea that all of us are in this together. Beyond my personal experience, it is just plain fact that human beings share most of their history (4 billion years) before we began diverging slightly a hundred thousand years ago. Beyond that, we are all sharing the planet. While, borders may keep some people out (or more commonly, keeping them in), in the long run, the water, air, and pollution is shared world wide across all “boundaries” of religion, philosophy, or nation.

It may be difficult for some to accept that all humans are part of their extended family.

The truth is that our actual family is far broader and wider than the 8 billion people on the planet today. We share more than half of our “family history” with every single creature and plant on earth today. When you think about vertebrates, for instance, we have similar bodily systems. We mate. We eat food. We eliminate wastes. Even those who live in the water actually breathe air that’s dissolved in the water. We learn. We flee. We are curious. We are aggressive. We solve problems.

Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

The earth is basically covered with living organisms. That is our family. It can be a source of inspiration and comfort if you let it be. And, you can love that family.

It’s up to you.


Family Matters: Part One

Family Matters: Part Two

Family Matters: Part Three

Life Will Find a Way

Math Class: Who are you?

Dance of Billions

Life is a Dance

The Walkabout Diaries: Bee Wise

The Forest

Author Page on Amazon

Orange Margolade

06 Wednesday Mar 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

Democracy, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

When down in the gutter,

There’s no time to stutter. 

He feigns a proud strutter.

His nonsense is utter.

“I’m strong!” He screams weak.

His pants show a leak. 

We don’t get a peek.

He struts like a sheik.

 

He plucks on the strings; 

Of hatred he sings.

He crushes the wings. 

Division he brings.

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

He sucks on men’s souls. 

He states no good goals.

He’s as wobbly as foals. 

His “logic” has holes.

 

He dwells in folks’ necks.

Our nation he wrecks. 

All hands on the decks!

To stop Putin’s hex.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Or things won’t end well.

In slavery we’ll dwell. 

No Liberty Bell

Rings inside of hell.

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Author Page on Amazon

The Ailing King of Agitate

All We Stand to Lose

The Truth Train

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

What about the Butter Dish?

Finding the Mustard

Happy Talk Lies

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

The Orange Man

The Dance of Billions 

Author Page on Amazon

Listen Only to Me.

04 Monday Mar 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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America, Democracy, fascism, national-security, politics, USA

Listen Only to Me.

Excuse me. Can I trouble you to listen to me for one minute? Yes? Fine. Just wanted to warn you about a danger you might not be aware of. 

Snakes. Sharks. Poisons. Drugs that addict you. Diseases that afflict you. 

You’ve heard of these. Did you know the government is doing it? No? Where do you think it all comes from? You’re a smart man (or you’re married to one). You don’t do stupid things, right? It isn’t your fault there are snakes, sharks, poisons, drugs, and diseases throughout the land. Of course not! Is it your family? No. Of course not. Is it your neighbor? No. Of course not. It’s foreigners and their liberal enablers.

Did you know that? They are hurting you on purpose.

Luckily, there is a solution. Oh, yes. A final solution. Once and for all, I can rid you of snakes, sharks, poisons, drugs and violent crime. Protect you forever. Of course, the government will try to stop me. But you’re too smart to let that happen. Just give me a little of your money. And give me your vote. 

They will try to hurt me because I am your protector. But I won’t let that happen. I will protect us both. I just need you to help me help you. I just need, just for a little while, to be above the law. Then, I can be effective as your protector. And get everything we both want. We’ll get rid of all the people trying to hurt you. The bad people. They’ll be gone. The different people. They’ll be gone. The liberal people. They’ll be gone. 

And when they’re all gone, of course, you’ll have far fewer problems. Far fewer. And, if your woman gets out of line, you will have the power to fix that right away. Put her where she belongs. She won’t have any choice. She won’t have any voice. It might take a little while, but not too long. I’ll fix things the way you like ‘em real fast. 

Hey, you want in on the action? I need some folks to beat up some of the bad people. Can you do that for me? You can? That’s great. That’s great. You won’t be sorry. We’re going to take this country back for the real folks like you. 

There we go. Wasn’t that fun? It’s kind of a waste to have two political parties, isn’t it? There’s no need. We all know what’s what. You’re a businessman, like me. Tired of taxes? No problem. I’ll cut them. Tired of rules and regulations? We’ll get rid of those too. Oh, your business will do so well!

See? Just like I said, your profits are soaring. A lot. So much, you might want to give me a little more of them just to keep things perfect like they are. A little more. Yeah, but you’ll still be way ahead. Say, that’s a cute receptionist you’ve got there. Want her? Well, now you can have her. No problem. None of that bull about consent. We know they all want it, right? 

You know, your daughter’s kind of cute. I’d like to hire her myself and show her the ropes. Of course, I’ll treat her with the same respect as though she were my own wife/daughter. 

What do you mean, she said I assaulted her? Nonsense. She’s not really my type. You know, for a white guy, your skin sure is dark. You’re just tan? Is that your story? No problem. We’ll just do a little DNA test. Well, look there. You’re actually not so very white after all. Well, the test doesn’t lie. We did the test. Afraid you’re going to have to be shipped out to the camps for people like you. No, don’t worry. We’ll take care of your wife and daughter. Oh, don’t worry. We’ll take care of your business too. Just sign everything over to me. Or, not. I can sign for you. What do you mean, that’s not your signature? Of course it is. I say it is. That’s the end of the debate.

What do you mean, you’ll vote for someone else next time? That’s treason, you know. You didn’t know? It doesn’t matter. People in the camps can’t vote anyway. Good bye. What other country? No, you can’t leave to go to another country. Don’t be silly! 

Photo by Denniz Futalan on Pexels.com

We have walls to keep you in. And lots of guards. Lots and lots of guards. With searchlights. And machine guns. And trained dogs. We know what’s best for you. You just need a little re-education in our camps. So you remember better who is in charge of your life now. For your own benefit of course. You might get out eventually. Or you might get poisoned or beaten to death. It all depends on how loyal you are. And whether your family can prove their loyalty. To me. To me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Oh, how I love the lyrics of that song. Me. Me. Me.

Photo by Wendelin Jacober on Pexels.com

Author Page on Amazon

Donnie gets a tennis trophy

The Ailing King of Agitate

All We Stand to Lose

Dick-Taters

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

What about the Butter Dish?

My Cousin Bobby

Wednesday

The Truth Train

The Crows and Me

The Dance of Billions

The Buzz of a Bee?

02 Tuesday Jan 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

book-reviews, books, fiction, negotiation, peace, reviews, Science fiction, story, war

Though she trained diligently for years to lead such a mission of mercy, Ptera-1-Hym felt a complex panoply of Arcturian chemotions. One of those chemotions hovered close to the human concept of pride but with none of the egotistical and hubristic accoutrements that often cloud human judgement and, according to the ancient Greeks of Earth, often lead to deadly divine interventions. Ptera-1-Hym, like nearly all her nano-horde, saw duty, pride, inevitability, fate, faith, and fastidiousness as six petals of the same cosmic flower. 

Another chemotion she felt: oscillations between droning fear on the one pincer and waxy determination on the other pincer. All this with an undertone vibration of vigilance along her ventral chitin. Obsessed, she checked and double-checked with her colleagues to make sure everyone was not only literally in their proper place on board their interstellar vessel but also “on board” with their role in the complex and well-planned Protocol of Peace. 

Sure enough, the TruthStone was polished and in place. The roles and responsibilities were crystal clear in the brains of the crew. They rehearsed and re-rehearsed the pictorial, narrative, and mathematical persuasions that would forever make war on earth literally unthinkable. There had not been much else to do during those hundreds of earth years the Arcturian spacecraft sped toward the third planet circling the small green star earthlings called “The Sun.” 

The xeno-psychologists had studied and re-studied primate psychology. Their on-board AI systems double-checked the pattern-growths and plasmic gambloids. Clear predictions emerged. Intervention was both necessary and would prove successful. After all, not only humans, but all the primates possessed the ability to solve simple logic puzzles. When presented with simple alternatives such as: “To be or not to be” most primates chose “To be.”

Among the many brilliant design innovations for the mercy mission to earth was the exterior design of the spaceship itself which greatly resembled a honeybee. Studies of earth’s ecosystems revealed that all of humanity depended on honeybees in order to feed earth’s blossoming population. This would ensure that none of the great apes would unwittingly destroy their ship. 

Completely unaware that an inter-galactic star ship sped toward their negotiating table, David Ibbar, Jamal Mami, and Epop Het, glared at each other. Each successive “communication” cycle resulted in increasing resentment and dislike. Not only did the three great apes become more and more frustrated with each other; they also became more frustrated with themselves because they couldn’t make an inch of progress. 

David ground his teeth so hard, the enamel was about to chip. Jamal gripped his hands so tightly around the arms of his chair, that two metacarpals were in danger of snapping. Epop Het bit his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. These injuries, of course, were trivial indeed compared with the destruction that could be caused by what each side was now threatening: an all-out thermo-nuclear war. 

The Arcturian ship flew in through a thin slit under the front door of the mansion where the hostile parties talked of preventing war. The Arcturians in general, and this crew in particular, had little interest per se in whether or not the great apes destroyed themselves. The problem for the Arcturians was that over the centuries, it became increasingly clear that the great apes would not only destroy themselves but the monstrous perversions of their mating rituals would also destroy a number of truly magnificent species including all the Cetaceans, Anisopteras, and Cryptodira. 

Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

Ptera-1-Hym checked the scanners and announced to her crew: “We’re here in the nick of time! Prepare the Truthstone!” Moments later, the Arcturian ship skidded to a stop atop the negotiating table in clear sight of the three human “Ambassadors of Peace.” Epop-Het noticed the annoying intrusion first, and picked up a nearby copy of what he considered to be The One True Holy Book. Jamal and David noticed the sudden gesture, and, not to be outdone, even in so small a matter as swatting an insect, grabbed their own Holy Books. Their younger hands compensated for their slower wits and all three Holy Books came crashing down together on the Arcturian ship, smashing it to smithereens. 

Ptera-1-Hym and all her crew mates died instantly. The blow pulverized the centuries old Truthstone. One of the smithereens, a particularly jagged shard of adamantine hypermetal, flew into the eyeball of Epop-Het. Unsure which of his two antagonists had attacked, he, or more accurately, his chemotions, ordered an all-out attack on both their kingdoms.

The mathematical projections of the Arcturians proved correct. The heat and radiation of the thermonuclear blasts destroyed all the Cetaceans, Anisopteras, and Cryptodira within days. A few of the great naked apes survived in their underground bunkers for months. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

And wished they hadn’t. Their only remaining “pleasure”? 

To blame each other for their preventable and common fate.


Author Page on Amazon

Turing’s Nightmares: short stories about AI

Tales from an American Childhood – recounts early experiences and relates them to contemporary issues

Fit in Bits suggests ways to inject more fitness into daily activities

The Winning Weekend Warrior treats the Psychology of Sports

About Writing

10 Sunday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in creativity, fiction, pets, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

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creativity, dog, fiction, novel, pets, writing

Hello!

I am alive and well. I haven’t blogged for a while. Here’s why: I’ve been taking a year-long course on novel writing. Yesterday, I sent off my book to the instructor for feedback. To me, writing a full-length novel has been more difficult than writing a Ph.D. dissertation. Writing non-fiction requires research, discipline, organization, and being willing to work hard.

Writing a novel requires all of those but it also requires keeping track of the implications of many little decisions. It is not only a cognitive strain but often an emotional one as well. It’s a never-ending series of choices. Science is often, but not always, a series of choices where there is an agreed upon better answer. Even when there isn’t agreement, there are a much smaller number of choices.

To me, writing non-fiction is like taking a long trip on existing roads. You may certainly face unanticipated difficulties such as construction zones, flat tires and bad weather.

Writing fiction is more like bushwhacking. No-one has ever trod (or will ever trod) your exact path. You may learn something by discovering or following the paths of previous writers. You might, for instance, discover that some writers go over logs that lie across their intended path. Others, may crawl under. Still others might go around the fallen log. Others might choose to back-track until another path is found. What should you do?

It depends.

And, that’s the nature of fiction. It all depends. It depends on what else happens in the book. How you choose to construct and describe one character depends on the others. Even what you name them depends on the other names. What happens in character development interacts with the plot. The plot interacts with the landscape and the mood. The mood depends on the tempo. The tempo, if it’s dialog must be consistent with the character who’s doing the talking.

Our dog Sadie and I have been co-creating and co-evolving games from the days she first came to live with us. Currently, we are playing a variant of “fetch.” Here’s how it works. One of us (most often Sadie) finds a squeaky ball. At some point, I get a squeaky ball from somewhere in the garden and say, “Get up on the deck! I’m going to throw the ball on the deck.”



Now matter where she is when she hears that, she sprints to the deck and awaits my throw. She sprints with spirit! I love to watch her run, not only for her grace and speed but even more so, for the whole-heartedness with which she runs every single time. I throw the ball up and she catches it in the air more than half the time. Even when she misses, she’ll scramble after it and proudly perch on the spot on the deck where I can see that she’s caught the ball. After elaborate and genuine praise, she sprints down the stairs to the lawn near me. Then, she will lie down with the squeaky ball in her mouth. After a time, she’ll move the ball away from her some distance. I walk over casually, as though I am not trying to “steal” the ball from her. When I get close to the ball, she quickly re-grabs it. After she’s had a few “successes” she will start hanging out farther and farther away from the ball. At some point, I’ll grab the ball and announce, “I’ve got it!” At that point, she again sprints up the stairs to go the deck where I will throw the ball up to her.

The part of this scenario that I think is most like writing the fiction is the part where Sadie is judging how far away the ball should be from her buzz-fast jaws. If it’s too close, I won’t even try for it. If it’s too far away, I’ll immediately grab the ball. Similarly, as an author, I want to keep the reader interested. If my writing is too predictable, it might be clear, but it will be uninspiring and dull. The reader will quit before they get to the end of the story. On the other hand, if I write too far from the reader’s expectations, they will quit because they cannot grab the threads of the narrative.

To me, the benefits of co-creating with Sadie (rather than “training her” to play the game in a particular and predetermined way) include that I can learn a lot by observing her. Another benefit is that it keeps both of our minds more flexible and more engaged (just as does good literature). Of course, there are two of us in this exercise and that is also true in the reading of fiction. Every author, including me, will make miscalculations about how far to stray from expectations. But whether you can follow across those miscalculations is not only a measure of my skill as a writer but is also a measure of your skill as a reader.

In the past, I’ve self-published my books on Amazon. These are mostly non-fiction, but one of them is a collection of fictional short stories. This time, I think I will try traditional agent/publishing. I am also thinking of putting together several more books, using the blog posts here as the seeds.

After a year long writing course, the single most important piece of advice I can give is:

“Get a dog.”



Don’t get me wrong. We have six cats and we love them dearly. The cats are smart, and I can certainly empathize with the cats. But their ability to empathize with me is either very limited or, as I suspect is more likely, they really don’t give a damn. On the other hand, Sadie is a pleasure to co-create with because she intuitively “gets” cooperation and collaboration. We accommodate each other and neither of us has any idea how the game will evolve.

By the way, I would feel I would be remiss not to share my secret of Holiday Gift shopping. There are literally millions of possible gifts! It makes choosing nearly impossible. Instead of putting yourself through that agony, simply go to my author page on Amazon and choose which book is most appropriate for which gift recipient. It’s fast, it’s easy, and you’ll have the thanks of at least on person which cannot be said for any other gift idea. And, in many cases, you’ll have two grateful people.

Author page on Amazon

Autobiography and Essays

Scenarios about AI

How to work more fun and exercise into daily chores

Sports Psychology

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