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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
Shadow Walker wondered whether the sense of foreboding he felt simply reflected the cool, damp weather. He took a deep breath. It felt good so he intentionally calmed himself with more deep breaths and rather than chase after an explanation, which, in his experience often scared explanations away, he determined to be more like a hunter waiting in a blind for the prey to come. He sat on a cold flat rock and let his thoughts drift. As he did so, his eyes chanced upon the Sixth Ring of Empathy — the one that only he and his love, Many Paths, had won. Touching it often seemed to give him comfort and he tried that, grinning as he did so. He immediately felt sunnier. Better, he knew exactly why he had felt morose. Many Paths had been worried for days about the upcoming meeting among the tribes. He had felt left out of her worry. She had not really sought his counsel, and he realized that, so far as he knew, she had not sought anyone’s counsel lately; not even that of her predecessor, She Who Saved Many Lives.
A smile came upon the face of Shadow Walker. A plan came to him and his smile broadened. Confidence returned to his step as he marched back to the Center Place of the Veritas. Immediately upon entering The Sacred Circle, he spied the younger brother of Many Paths, Tu-Swift. He and Cat Eyes spoke quietly and seriously. Beside them on an oaken table, a number of what he now knew to call “books” were spread out in front of them. They were concentrating so intently they failed to see him approach. While all of the Veritas were trained in the ability to walk silently, Shadow Walker had perfected the skill better than anyone else in the tribe. He felt no need to startle his friends, so he announced his presence intentionally. “I see you two are continuing your studies.”
Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes both smiled and moved so as to allow space and offer invitation to Shadow Walker. He smiled back, but rather than join them, he quickly explained his insight and suggestion. They both assented quickly. Cat Eyes nodded vigorously while Tu-Swift said aloud, “Wonderful idea! We’re leaving now. But — are you sure that’s where she is?”
“No, not completely sure. But reasonably sure. If you find her, can you bring her back here? Meanwhile, I’ll see whether She Who Saved Many Lives will join us presently.”
Cat Eyes glanced up at the grey clouds and decided to put the books into boxes and cover them with the rock-weighted rawhide cover. Then, the three dispersed. The youngsters strode off to find Many Paths while Shadow Walker walked over to the cabin of the Elder Shaman. Halfway there, he saw the slightly bent figure of She Who Saved Many Lives walking toward him. He chuckled. Many Paths had several times mentioned how often she had sought to find the Elder and gain her advice only to discover that She Who Saved Many Lives was already en route to her.
Shadow Walker approached and bowed his head slightly out of respect. “Well met, Mother of the Tribe, I had something I wanted to ask you about.”
“Yes, I also think it’s time to help She Who Finds Many Paths to Avoid Asking for Help.”
Shadow Walker was taken aback. “She Who…? Ah, yes. Exactly. But how…?”
“Oh, my, Shadow Walker. Books are not the only things which may be read.” She said this in such a kindly tone and with such a twinkle in her eye, that Shadow Walker could do nothing but shake his head and chuckle again. “Many Paths has cautioned me that you can read minds. Now, I see she is right.”
“Would that I could! I cannot read the mind of a tree, but if there has been no rain for days the leaves are all wilting, I know the tree wants water, and so too, do you, as signified by the Rings of Empathy you earned. I should think. It’s not much different with reading people than it is with trees. You and I both know Many Paths is rightly concerned that this upcoming meeting go smoothly. There is a time to keep one’s own counsel, surely, but now, I think, like you, it is time to stir the pot!”
Shadow Walker offered his elbow to the Elder and they slowly made their way back to the Center Place of the Veritas.
petersironwood 