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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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I Say: Hello! You Say: “What City Please?”

16 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

efficiency, HCI, human factors, problem framing, problem solving, UX

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In the not so distant past, people would often call directory assistance operators. These operators would find a number for you. For an additional charge, they would dial it for you. In fact, this was a very commonly used system. Phone companies would have large rooms filled with such operators who worked very hard and very politely, communicating with a hostile and irrational public. 

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Customer: “I have to get the number of that bowling alley right near where the A&P used to be before they moved into that new shopping center.”

Operator: “Sir, you haven’t told me what town you’re in. Anyway…”

Customer: “What town?! Why I’m right here in Woburn where I’ve always been!” 

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There were so many operators that the phone companies wanted their processes to be efficient. Operators were trained to be friendly and genial but not chatty. The phone companies searched for better keyboards and better screen layouts to shave a second here or there off the average time it took to handle a call. 

There are some interesting stories in that attempt but that we will save for another article, but here I want to tell you what made the largest impact on the average time per call. Not a keyboard. Not a display. Not an AI system. 

It was simply changing the greeting. 

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Operators were saying something like: “New England Telephone. How can I help you?” 

After our intervention, operators instead said, “What city please?” It’s shorter and it’s takes less time to say. But the big change was not in how long the operator took to ask the question. The biggest savings was how this change in greeting impacted the customer’s behavior. 

When the operator begins with “How can I help you?” the customer, or at least some fraction of them, are put into a frame of mind of a conversation. They might respond thusly:

“Oh, well, you know my niece is getting married! Yeah! In just a month, and she still hasn’t shopped for a dress! Can you believe it? So, I need the number for that — if it were up to me, I would go traditional, but my niece? She’s — she’s going avant-garde so I need the number of that dress shop on Main Street here in Arlington.” 

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With the “What City Please?” greeting, the customer is put into a more businesslike frame of mind and answers more succinctly. They now understand their role as proving information in a joint problem solving task with the operator. A typical answer would now be:

“Arlington.” 

“In Arlington, what listing?” 

“Dress shop on Main Street.”

The way in which a conversation begins signals what type of conversation it is to be. We know this intuitively. Suppose you walked up to an old friend and they begin with: “Name?” You would be taken aback. On the other hand, suppose you walk up to the line at the DMV and the clerk says, “Hey, have you seen that latest blog post by John Thomas on problem framing?” You would be equally perplexed! 

Conversation can be thought of partly as a kind of mutual problem solving exercise. And, before that problem solving even begins, one party or the other will tend to “frame” the conversation. That framing can be incredibly important. 

Even the very first words can cause someone to frame what kind of a conversation this is meant to be.

Words matter.

The Primacy Effect and The Destroyer’s Advantage

https://petersironwood.com/2018/02/13/context-setting-entrance/

Essays on America: Wednesday

Author Page on Amazon 

Problem Framing: Good Point!

14 Thursday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

problem finding, problem formulation, problem framing, problem solving, thinking, tools

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You have probably heard variations on this old saw, “To a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” I’ve also heard, “If you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” There is also this popular anecdote:

One night, I took my dog out for a walk and I noticed one of my neighbors under a nearby street lamp crawling around on his hands and knees, apparently looking for something. I walked over and asked, “What are you looking for?”

Photo by Photo:N on Pexels.com



“My car keys!” He replied.

I have pretty good vision, so I helped him. I didn’t see any car keys so after a minute or so I asked, “Where exactly did you lose your keys?” 

He stood up, cracked his back, and pointed back to a nearby park. “Over there.”

“Over there?! Then, why are you looking under the street lamp? Why aren’t you looking over at the park entrance?”

“Oh, that’s obvious! The light is so much better here!” 

For a time, I had to very interesting and challenging job in the mid 1980’s at IBM Headquarters to try to get the company to pay more attention to the usability of their products and services. As a part of this, I visited IBM locations throughout the world. At one fabrication plant, our tour guide took us by an inspection station. This was not an inspection statement for chips. It consisted of one person whose job was to look through a microscope and make sure that two silver needles were perfectly aligned.

After we left the station, our tour guide confided that they were strongly considering replacing the person with a machine vision system. The anticipated cost would be substantial, but they hypothesized that the system would be more accurate and faster. It was, our host, insisted, just the nature of humans to be slow and inaccurate.

Maybe. 

When I looked at the inspection station however, with my background in human factors, I had a completely different impression of the situation. The inspector sat on a fixed height stool and had to bend his neck at an absurd angle to look into the microscope. He was trying to align these silver needles against a background that had almost the same hue, brightness and saturation. 

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Other than blindfolding the man, I’m not sure what they could have done to make the task more unnecessarily difficult. I suggested, and eventually, they implemented, a few inexpensive ergonomic changes and time and accuracy improved.

Like other companies in the technology segment, IBM often saw problems as ones that could be solved by technology. At that time, technology systems was their main business. Since then, they have expanded more fully into software and services. In fact, those services now include experience design.

https://www.ibm.com/services/business/experience-design

(NOTE: Since I first published this post, the link above no longer takes you to experience-design but to general consulting services. Too bad.)

If you find yourself enamored of technology in general, or some specific class of technology such as machine vision, speech recognition, or machine learning, you might overlook much simpler and cheaper ways to solve problems or ameliorate situations. Of course, you might lose some revenue doing that, but you can also win long term customer loyalty. 

Even if you are a hammer, everything is not a nail. 

That applies as well to User Experience. You might design the most wonderful UX imaginable for a particular product or service. But if it is shoddily made so that it is error prone; if it lacks important functionality; if the sales force is inept; or if service is horrible, those failures can completely overwhelm all the good work you have done on the UX. Because of the nature of UX, you might learn important knowledge or suggestions for other functions as well. It often requires finesse to have such suggestions taken seriously, but with some thought you can do it. 

During my second stint at IBM, I worked for a time in a field known at that time as “Knowledge Management.” One of our potential clients was a major Pharma company who felt that their researchers should do a better job of sharing knowledge across products. They wanted us to design a “knowledge management system” (by which they meant hardware and software) to improve knowledge sharing. 

Simply building a “Knowledge Management System” would be looking under the streetlamp. They knew how to specify a technology solution from IBM and have it installed.

However — they were unwilling to provide any additional space, time, or incentives for their employees to share knowledge with their colleagues!  

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They were convinced that technology would be the silver bullet, the solution, the answer, the Holy Grail, the magic pill. They viewed technology as less disruptive than it would have been to change employee incentives, or space layout, or give them time to actually learn and use the technology system. 

This reaction to “knowledge management” was not unique. It was common.

To me, this seems very similar to the notion that health problems can all be solved with a magic pill. What do you think? 

—————————————

There’s a pill for that. 

The Pandemic Anti-Academic.

What about the butter dish? 

The invisibility cloak of habit. 

Author Page on Amazon

Reframing the Problem: Paperwork & Working Paper

13 Wednesday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

problem finding, problem formulation, problem framing, problem solving, thinking

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Reframing the Problem: Paperwork & Working Paper



This is the second in a series about the importance of correctly framing a problem. Generally, at least in formal American education, the teacher gives you a problem. Not only that, if you are in Algebra class, you know the answer will be an answer based in Algebra. If you are in art class, you’re expected to paint a picture. If you painted a picture in Algebra class, or wrote down a formula in Art Class, they would send you to the principal for punishment. But in real life, how a problem is presented may actually be far from the most elegant solution to the real problem.

Doing a google search on “problem solving” just now yielded 208 million results. Entering “problem framing” only had 182 thousand. A thousand times as much emphasis on problem solving as there was on problem framing. [Update: I redid the search today, a little over three years later. On 3/6/2024, I got 542M hits on “problem solving” and 218K hits on “problem framing” — increases in both but the ratio is even worse than it was in 2021]. Yet, let’s think about that for a moment. If you have wrongly framed the problem, you not only will not have solved the real problem; what’s worse, you will have convinced yourself that you have solved the problem. This will make it much more difficult to recognize and solve the real problem even for a solitary thinker. And to make a political change required to redirect hundreds or thousands will be incalculably more difficult. 

All of that brings us to today’s story. For about a decade, I worked as executive director of an AI lab for a company in the computers & communication industry. At one point, in the late 1980’s, all employees were all supposed to sign some new paperwork. An office manager called from a building several miles away asking me to have my admin work with his admin to sign up a schedule for all 45 people in my AI lab to go over to his office and sign this paperwork as soon as possible. That would be a mildly interesting logistics problem, and I might even be tempted to step in and help solve it. More likely, if I tried to solve it, some much brighter & more competent colleague would have done it much faster. 

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But why?

Why would I ask each of 45 people to interrupt their work; walk to their cars; drive in traffic; park in a new location; find this guy’s office; walk up there; sign some paper; walk out; find their car; drive back; park again; walk back to their office and try to remember where the heck they were? Instead, I told him that wasn’t happening but he’d be welcome to come over here and have people sign the paperwork. 

You could make an argument that that was 4500% improvement in productivity, but I think that understates the case. The administrator’s work, at least in this regard, was to get this paperwork signed. He didn’t need to do mental calculations to tie these signings together. On the other hand, a lot of the work that the AI folks did was hard mental work. That means that interrupting them would be much more destructive than it would to interrupt the administrator in his watching someone sign their name. Even that understates the case because many of the people in AI worked collaboratively and (perhaps you remember those days) people were working face to face. Software tools to coordinate work were not as sophisticated as they are now. Often, having one team member disappear for a half hour would not only impact their own work, it would impact the work of everyone on the team. 

Quantitatively comparing apples and oranges is always tricky. Of course, I am also biased because my colleagues were people I greatly admire. Nonetheless, it seems obvious that the way the problem was presented was a non-optimal “framing.” It may or may not have been presented that way because of a purely selfish standpoint; that is, wanting to do what’s most convenient for oneself rather than what’s best for the company as a whole. I suspect that it was  more likely just the first idea that occurred to him. But in your own life, beware. Sometimes, you will mis-frame a problem because of “natural causes.” But sometimes, people may intentionally hand you a bad framing because they view it as being in their interest to lead you to solve the wrong problem. 

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Author Page on Amazon

Tools of Thought

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

The Doorbell’s Ringing! Can you get it?

12 Tuesday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

problem finding, problem formulation, problem framing, problem solving, thinking

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After a long day’s work, I arrived home to a distraught wife. Not, “Hi, sweetheart” but “This doorbell is driving me crazy!” 

Me: “What doorbell? What are you talking about?” 

People differ in how they perceive the world around them. In my case, for instance, I’m very easily distracted by movement in my visual field. Noise can be annoying, but it rarely rises to that level. For instance, when commercials come on, I simply “tune them out” and instead tune in to my own thoughts. My high frequency hearing isn’t too great either. So, at first, I didn’t understand what my wife was referring to. 

Beep. 

Photo by Luisa Fernanda Bayona on Pexels.com

“That! That doorbell beep!” 

Ah, now I understood. And, there it went again. Once I knew what to listen for, I had to agree it was annoying though much more annoying to my wife because she’s more tuned in to sound than I am and her ability to hear high frequencies is also better.

She then upped the ante. “I have to leave. I can’t stand it! You have to make it stop!” 

I looked at the wall between our entryway and the kitchen. That’s where the doorbell ringer was. I unscrewed a couple of screws and removed the housing. Inside was the actual doorbell and three wires. A quick snip should at least stop the noise until we figured out a more permanent fix. I sighed. I suspected we would have to buy a new doorbell. Then, I laughed a bit as the Hollywood scenes from a hundred movies flashed before my eyes:

The Hero finds the bomb, with its conveniently placed timer, but it’s counting down 30 seconds, 29, 28. He’s cut to cut a wire! But which one!?

The consequences of my error would not be so great. Still…So, I cut the black wire.

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BEEP! BEEP! 

OK. I cut the red wire.

BEEP! BEEP! 

OK. I cut the green wire, the last wire. I was having trouble understanding why it would be necessary to cut all three wires. But whatever. I had now cut all three wires.

BEEP! BEEP!

??

Electrical circuits don’t work by magic. How can the doorbell be beeping when it has no power? 

It can’t. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It wasn’t the doorbell at all.



Months earlier, my wife & I had attended a Dave Pelz “Short School” for putting, chipping, and sand shots. At that course, we received a small electronic metronome — about the size of a credit card. The metronome was to be used to help make sure you had a consistent rhythm on your putting stroke. Since the course, the metronome had sat atop our upright piano. Apparently, one of the cats had turned it on and then slapped it onto the floor behind the piano. The sounding board amplified the sound and made it harder to localize. Eventually, we tracked it down, fished out the metronome from behind the piano and clicked it off. Problem solved. 

Except for the non-functional doorbell. 

I had initially “solved” the wrong problem. I had solved the problem of the mis-firing doorbell by cutting all the wires. That was not the problem. I had jumped on to my wife’s formulation and framing of the problem. There are plenty of times in my life when I had solved the wrong problem without any help from someone else. This isn’t a story about assigning blame. It’s a story about the importance of correctly solving the right problem. 

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It is very easy to get led into solving the “wrong” problem. 

In the days ahead, I will relate a few more examples. 

———————————————

What about the Butter Dish? 

Index to “Thinking tools” 

Author Page on Amazon

Freedom of Speech is Not a License to Kill

09 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

America, crime, Democracy, Senate, treason, USA

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People have debated what, precisely, the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution means. But no-one to my knowledge has argued that the “right to bear arms” means that you can therefore shoot dead whomever you want. That is not a “freedom” under any reasonable definition. 

What would be the consequence of simply saying that under our Constitution, you can kill whomever you want? Anarchy. Chaos. Such a state of affairs would certainly not be conducive to an economic recovery, controlling the pandemic, or “domestic tranquility.” The Second Amendment also doesn’t mean that you can go kill people provided you think you are justified. The fact that you believe you are right does not mean you are right. If you do own a gun, you have a responsibility to use it wisely. You can own a car. But that doesn’t give you the right to drive however you damned well feel like. It doesn’t give you the right to go as fast as you want and it certainly doesn’t give you the right to kill people with your car. Similarly, you can own a home. But owning your own home doesn’t mean you can set up an opium den or a crack house there. With rights come responsibilities.

So it is as well with the “Freedom of Speech.” You have the right to make arguments for your point of view, even if that view is not popular. But, as nearly everyone realizes, that does not mean you have the freedom to stand up in a crowded theater (should they ever exist again) and scream “FIRE!” at the top of your lungs. If you did, and people were trampled to death in the panicked rush to get out, you would rightly be held liable for their deaths. 

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That is not the only restriction on your “Freedom of Speech.” You cannot visit someone, sneak a bottle of vodka out of their liquor cabinet while they aren’t looking, pour the Absolute down the drain, and replace the contents with wood alcohol, and then sneak it back into the liquor cabinet. You cannot knowing sell horse meat as venison. You cannot lie about your age in order to register to vote or buy alcohol or firearms. 

You cannot convince your neighbor that wood alcohol will prevent COVID (it won’t and it’s poison) and then let them act accordingly. It is certainly not ethical, if someone has the symptoms of an appendicitis, to tell them not to worry because doctors just perform operations to make money and that instead, they should simply take a laxative (this can easily result in a burst appendix followed by sepsis and death). It is also probably illegal to do so, even if you sincerely, but wrongly believe that taking a laxative will cure an appendicitis.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com



Suppose your friend has a two year old with a nasty looking wart on their hand. Suppose you convince your friend, that you can simply cut off the child’s hand with a meat cleaver and that the next day, a new hand will grow back and it will be perfect — no wart. Your friend is rather stupid to believe you, but that doesn’t mean you have no responsibility in the matter. You cannot successfully argue in court that you were “merely executing your right to free speech.” 

It is not okay to simply spread lies because there are other people spreading the same lies. With Freedom of Speech comes the responsibility to check up on the veracity of what you say, write, or tweet. If your intention is to mislead people into harming or killing someone, you will be held liable. 

Sometimes, deciding what is true is difficult. In the case of my convincing you that your child’s hand will grow back, you could use logic, or experience, or seek out the expertise of medical doctors. Some people have not been educated to take these steps. That is sad, but if someone is misled into committing a crime, a mentally competent adult doing the misleading and the mentally competent adult who has been misled are both liable, even if both of them have been misled by misinformation on the Internet. That is why it is so important not to spread misinformation. 

Sometimes such misinformation is spread with the best of intentions. People may actually believe that people with red hair are devils in disguise and that they are all hell-bent on destroying the earth. That still doesn’t make it all right for you to kill red-haired people nor to spread lies about them that results in someone else killing red-haired people. If you spread your belief and that action harms other people, you are not somehow exonerated because you believed the lie that you spread. 

There is, however, a category of misinformation still worse than spreading deadly lies without checking up on them. 

That happens when people who know better, such as Ted Cruz, spread lies that they know are lies in order to gain political power. He was valedictorian in his high school class and has degrees from Princeton and Harvard Law School. He has both the knowledge and the intelligence to know that he was lying about election results. Unless someone was drugging him without his knowledge or he has a brain tumor, he knowingly and cravenly tried to overthrow the most recent Presidential election. And he did so in the most cravenly and cowardly way possible: by intentionally and cynically rousing others to violence. Everyone who died in DC as a result of the Sedition Riot has their blood on his hands. 

What he did, and others of his ilk, is not the exercise of free speech any more than screaming “FIRE!!” In a crowded theater is exercising free speech. Cruz’s rabble rousing is no more free speech than my robbing a bank at gunpoint is a “free speech” demonstration of my objection to wealth inequality. Cruz knows full well that Donald Trump lost the 2020 election, and by quite a bit. Cruz knows that there was no wide-spread election fraud. Cruz knew full well that the President’s lies on the subject had predisposed an angry mob to believe his lies and act on them.



This was not the first time that Ted Cruz had egregiously lied in public life. Before the Senate impeachment trial of Donald J. Trump, he swore an oath for a fair trial. Then, he joined other GOP Senators to refuse to hold a fair trail; refusing to call witnesses and refusing to subpoena documents. Leaving Trump in office has led to hundreds of thousands of needlessly dead Americans. Those deaths are on the heads of Donald J. Trump, but also on the heads of Senators who swore to hold a fair trial and then made no attempt to do so.

There are many lies that have emanated from Ted Cruz — a man who is a United States Senator. His lies meant to incite a riotous attack on our democracy were not the first of his lies. But they should be the last. 

He should be ejected from the Senate and criminally prosecuted for inciting to riot and for treason.

Our founders knew that a would-be dictator, such as Donald J. Trump, would be a danger to our democracy. They provided for that eventuality. Sadly, they failed to anticipate the astounding level of cowardice that could be displayed by people such as Ted Cruz. I suppose it’s understandable. After all, these founders had just engaged in a war against the much more powerful and better trained British. And, they had won. They didn’t all agree with each other, but they were not a bunch of craven cowards who would sell their family for a moldy table scrap of a would-be dictator’s affection. 

Cowardly sycophants of that ilk belong in prison; not in the United States Senate. 

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https://petersironwood.com/2019/11/24/beware-of-sheep-in-wolves-clothing/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/12/22/essays-on-america-a-query-on-quislings/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/03/04/ambition/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/03/17/the-truth-train/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/05/03/timeline/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/08/05/the-ailing-king-of-agitate/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/12/14/how-the-nightingale-learned-to-sing/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/02/12/cancer-always-loses-in-the-end/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/05/11/absolute-is-not-just-a-vodka/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/05/28/where-does-your-loyalty-lie/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/08/21/the-primacy-effect-the-destroyers-advantage/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/10/06/ramming-your-head-into-a-brick-wall-does-not-make-you-a-hero/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/07/11/plans-for-us-some-gruesome/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/07/11/captain-donny-boy-steers-the-titanic-luckily-the-iceberg-was-a-liberal-hoax/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/09/02/oxymorons-of-the-mango-mussolini/

https://petersironwood.com/2017/01/09/trumpism-is-a-new-religion/

https://petersironwood.com/2019/12/19/essays-on-america-rejecting-adulthood/

Author page on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/truthtable

USA

2020 Hindsight: Blog in Review

04 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

index

2020 Vision 

Happy New Year! I wish everyone has a good new year. Thank you to everyone who reads, follows, or comments on this blog! I am hoping you will find this index useful.

Looking Back (Great Wall of China)

In 2020, we had a large family get-together planned to celebrate my birthday in late May. By early March, it was obvious that I would have to cancel. There was no-one in my family whom I loved so much that I wanted to risk their life by having them travel during a pandemic rather than wait another year to see them. I am, like most people, hoping 2021 will be a better year on many dimensions. Science has provided us with a variety of vaccines. The mere existence of those vaccines does not mean the pandemic is over. It will only be under control (not totally vanquished) when more than 75% of the people are vaccinated. Please continue to wear masks in public, stay socially distanced, and wash your hands. 

Posts from 2020 can be categorized as: Poetry, Essays on America, Further Myths of the Veritas, purely fictional stories about a child sociopath, purely fictional stories about how the GRU plotted to turn part of the GOP into a death cult, and miscellaneous stories. 

Poetry

Hauntings Across the Time Zones

Wilbur’s Story

A Suddenly Springing Something

Piano

Race, Place, Space, Face

The Bubble People

https://petersironwood.com/2020/03/02/dont-they-realize-how-much-better-off-they-are-now/amp/

https://petersironwood.com/2020/03/02/dont-they-realize-how-much-better-off-they-are-now/amp/

https://wordpress.com/post/petersironwood.com/3971

Ambition!

The Impossible

Peace

Wonder, Wonder, Who Kept the Wonder?

Camelot is in your Heart

Fate and Late on the Interstate

Sunless Sunday of Faith

The Truth Train

Maybe It Needs a New Starter

The Mysterious American “Continental Breakfast”

Wristwatch

The Joy of Juggling

The Most Serious Work

IS A DREAM?

Imagine all the People…

A Cat’s a Cat & That’s That.

The Jewels of November

A Wildly Webbed World

https://petersironwood.com/tag/easter/

Life is a Dance

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

You Must Remember This

Choosing the Script

Hi-Golf-Ku

Comes the Reign

Mother’s Day

Timeline

Snowflake

You gave me no fangs

Blood-Red Blood

Screaming out a Warning

Ah Wilderness!

Answers to Your Many Questions

The Watershed Virus

Who are the Speakers for the Dead?

Trump Truth Treason

The Ailing King of Agitate

Put in the Fool; Put out the Fool

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Try the Truth!

Listen: You Can Hear the Echoes of Your Actions

My Captain’s No Captain

Comes the Dawn
Con Formation Confirmation

T-Rump Swan Song

Good Morning!

The Tree of Life

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Essays on America 

Essays on America: The Temperature Gauge

By the Numbers

Cancer Always Loses in the End

Checks and Balances

The Pie of Life

Fire and Ice

Essays on America: Addictions

COVID-19

https://petersironwood.com/2020/03/31/keys-that-open-keys-that-close/amp/

Essays on America: OOPS!

Drowning in the Obvious, Denied by the Oblivious

What about the Butter Dish?

Absolute is Not Just a Vodka

Sports Fans Only

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Essays on America: My Cousin Bobby

Essays on America: Poker Chips

ANTIFA?

Essays on America: Happy Talk Lies

Unmasked

The only “Them” that Counts is all of “US”

Essays on America: The Update Problem

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Push Forward (or Sideways or Backwards)

A Tight Flock Unified by Division

The Primacy Effect & The Destroyer’s Advantage

Trumpland: A Nearly Perfect Solution

Points and Trajectories

Essays on America: The Interview

Essays on America: Highlights & Lowlifes

Fascism Leads to Chaos

Opponent does not mean Enemy

Child-Like? Or, Childish?

BOUNCE!!

Masklessness is not Manliness

Shooting the Moon

Essays on America: A Query on Quislings

Pardon me!

Myths of the Veritas 

A Map, of Sorts

Love’s Afterglow

Tu-Swift Tells his Tale

Shadow Walker’s Walk

Jaccim Knows the Way

The Book of Anti-Life

Jaccim Fails to Explain

Return from the Old Place

Many Paths for Many Weapons

Many Shiny Things

Wartime Playtime

Serious Fun and Games

Myths of the Veritas: Inversnaid Revisited

A Difficult Journey

Choosing the Path More Traveled By

Light at the End of the Tunnel?

Mint Tea & Golden Coins

Fishing

Open Door Policy

https://petersironwood.com/tag/light/

Tall Trees; High Vines

Gifts that Keep on Giving

Myths of the Veritas: Books

https://petersironwood.com/2020/05/22/getting-in/amp/

Myths of the Veritas: Many Paths Awakes

Such Sweet Sorrow

Wake Up!

Red Death Plague Rage Assuaged

Myths of the Veritas: All that Glitters …

She Who Saves Many Lives

Shadow Walker’s Ministers

The Healing Tea

The Seven Grandmothers

Tu-Swift’s Reunion

Two Boxes: Each Contains the Other Box’s Key

Led by the Deer

Stories of a Child Sociopath (This series of stories is meant to give insight into the way a sociopath’s mind works. Most people don’t seem to “get it.” I’m hoping these stories will help.)

Donnie Plays Bull-dazzle Man!

Donnie Plays Doctor Man!

Donnie Learns Golf! 

Donnie Plays Soldier Man

Donnie Visits Granny!! 

Donnie Gets a Hamster!

Donnie Takes a Blue Ribbon for Spelling!

Donnie Gets his Name on Tennis Trophy! 

Donnie Lets his Brother take the Fall.

Donnie Boy Watches a Veteran’s Day Parade

Ramming Your Head Into a Brick Wall Does Not Make You a “Hero”

The GRU plans to turn the GOP into a Death Cult (This sequence of four short stories is *fiction* — but not implausible fiction — meant to illustrate and warn that death cults need not be small. In the middle ages, after the European Christians failed to conquer the Holy Lands, they mounted a crusade composed only of children under the theory that they would be more “pure” and therefore more likely to prevail. Of course, most of them died en route from starvation or disease and the remainder were easily decimated by their adult opponents). 

Plans for us; some GRUesome.

Finding the Needle Man in the Haystack of America

That Fatal Flaw

Nasha Marionetka

Chrysalis 

As Gold as it Gets

Do Unto Others

Miscellaneous Stories,  Essays, & Satire

https://petersironwood.com/2020/02/21/the-touch-of-one-hand-clasping/

The Lost Sapphire

By Any Other Name (selection)

Cars that Lock too Much

Jennifer’s Invitation

Last Call!

You Must Remember This

Thrumperdome

Process Re-engineering Moves to Baseball 

John vs. Worrier

True Believer

Little Grandma

The URGENT E-mail

Overheard Conversations of Fiction

Captain Donny Boy Steers the Titanic (Luckily, the Iceberg was a Liberal Hoax*)

How did I get here?

He is the Very Model of a Modern Consigliere General

Transcript of Mystery Call

Oxymorons of the Mango Mussolini

Skirting the Turtle

Getting Into (the “right”) Shape

The Isle of Right

Rejection Letter

Let me not…

That Cold Walk Home

A Short Brutal Life in the Slammer

That First Time is So Special

Living on the Edge

The Itsy Bitsy Spider & the Waterspout

Author Page on Amazon 

https://www.amazon.com/author/truthtable

Do Unto Others

29 Tuesday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

afterlife, fantasy, fiction, heaven, hell, shortstory, St. Peter, story

“I’m not doing that while we’re driving, Adam! It’s too damned dangerous!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, Nikki, you do what the hell I say or … “

“LOOK OUT!”

Nikki lay on the cold marble floor. She thought she must have suffered the worst hangover in the history of humanity because she had no recollection of how she got here — or what ‘here’ even was. Somewhere nearby, lights — very bright lights — shone against the marble floor. She opened her eyes to behold a scene of opulence and hard-edged beauty.

But, if this really is a hangover, she asked herself, where’s the headache? Where’s the infernal dryness? On the other hand, she reasoned that she still had no recollection of how she got here. Was she “on assignment” as Adam called it. Or…she had been with Adam. He had asked her…they were in a car. She scowled and mumbled, “That bastard must have drugged me.” 

She got to all fours. Then, she stood, carefully splaying her arms out in case she lost her balance. To her amazement, she was not dizzy or off-balance in the slightest. Ahead of her, an empty hallway seemed to beckon her. She felt the answers to her many questions were at the end of it.



She walked gingerly at first, but soon gained confidence that somehow, there were no ill effects from whatever drug her pimp had slipped her. She looked ahead and whispered in a shaky voice, “Hello? Is anyone there?” 

“It is I,” boomed a voice. 

“Holy Mother of God, man! Don’t scare people like that! You’ll give someone a heart attack!” 

“Keep looking and you will see me. I am not, regrettably, the Mother of God. Just St. Peter. I’m pleased to meet you, Becky.”

“Becky? No-one’s called me that … for years. Not since….” Her voice trailed off. Who are you really?”

“Oh, I assure you Becky. I really am St. Peter, Becky. Do you mind if I call you that.” 

Silently, Becky shook her head. “I don’t mind. It’s just…I think there’s been a mistake.” 

St. Peter’s face had become clearer to her now and she could see the corner of his mouth curl up in a smile. “Mistake? Well, no, I don’t think so. We don’t really do the whole ‘mistake’ thing. You know?” 

“Well, if you’re the St. Peter who greets people coming to Heaven, then, I’m sure there’s been a mistake. I am a … or … I was a … you know … ‘working woman.’ I’ve known for a long time I was headed to Hell and … check your data base or your Excel Spreadsheet or whatever it is you people do and send me on my way. Let’s get it over with.” 

Becky, aka Nikki, watched St. Peter as he tilted his head this way and that as though to get a clearer, or deeper, look at her. She sighed. She didn’t mind when her ‘clients’ stared at her. She kind of enjoyed it in a way. She could relate to the pleasure that they were feeling because of her. But this felt different. Uncomfortable. Weird. As though he wasn’t staring at her body at all, but into her soul. No-one looked at her that way. Certainly not Adam. 

“Hey, St. Peter. What happened to Adam? Is he okay? Or is he dead too?” 

“Ah, well, yes Adam. Adam Smith. He is indeed dead. All taken care of. Was he your friend?”

“Friend?! Hardly! I mean, I thought he was for a time. He pretended to be….” Becky’s voice trailed off. “Look, is this like — are you free therapy or something? Can we just get going on the whole ‘Hell’ thing?” She paused. “Please.” 

“All right. Off you go then. Nice meeting you, Becky.” 

Suddenly, Becky found herself surrounded by deafening noise. Flashing lights. The smell of gunpowder. And burning flesh. She heard someone call her name.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com



“Becky! Give me a hand with this one! Hold this compress hard so he doesn’t bleed out. Simon! Timothy! Help me get him onto this stretcher!” 

Somehow, Becky knew what to do. Despite her best efforts, some of the man’s blood seeped onto her hand. It didn’t matter. She was damned well going to make sure he lived. “Come on, mister! Don’t go blank on me! What’s your name? What’s your name, soldier? Hey, Hey! Do not glaze your eyes over. Look at me! What’s your name?” 

The man locked his eyes on hers. “Tom.” 

“OK, Tom. Listen to me. We’ll have you back in the OR in no time. I know it looks bad and feels bad, but I’ve seen worse. Much worse. You’re going to make it. I have no doubt whatsoever. Here. Put your hand on mine. We’ll work together to keep you together.” 

Simon and Timothy held the wooden handles and picked their way over the broken ground. At last they came to the Red Cross Tent. On this day, like the others, she did her best to save lives, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing. It seemed as though she had been a triage nurse forever. 

Endless cold, endless danger, the stale food and the staler jokes. 

Becky could not imagine anything that would give her more pleasure or allow her to feel more fully alive. 

—————————-

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Tree of Life

Good Morning!

The Isle of Right

Comes the Dawn

Listen! You can Hear the Echoes of your Actions. 

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Ah, Wilderness!

Blood-Red Blood

Mother’s Day

Comes the Reign

Life is a Dance!

A Cat’s a Cat and That’s That!

Is a Dream?

The Sunless Sunday of Faith

Camelot is in your Heart

The Impossible

The Bubble People 

Race, Place, Space, Face

A Suddenly Springing Something

Author Page on Amazon

As Gold as it Gets

28 Monday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 34 Comments

Tags

fantasy, fiction, karma, short story, story

“I’m not doing that while we’re driving, Adam! It’s too damned dangerous!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, Nikki, you do what the hell I say or … “

“LOOK OUT!” Nikki screamed.

Adam looked about him and wondered aloud: “Where the hell…?” He shivered from the cold. The fallen leaves were powdered with snow. He heard no-one. Saw no-one. “Where the hell am I?” he asked no-one. 

A faint path led to a briar bush and beyond that a faded, mottled blue and teal door stared out from a stone wall. Apart from that, the woods seemed to stretch forever in all directions. Adam mumbled, “I must be in some weird-ass dream. Whatever.”

After convincing himself it had to be a dream, he found himself acting more bravely. He strode up to the door and pulled the knocker up and let it fall upon the heavy door. Three times he did this, not really expecting any result, but what the hell. It was something to do, he reasoned. 

Adam jerked back as the door swung open. Inside, a huge room opened up. It was filled with light. He looked down at his well-polished rattlesnake boots. They gleamed more brightly than ever before. He squinted. He mumbled, “This is definitely the weirdest dream I have ever had.” 

Adam found a single chair. He sat. Before him, a hazy golden figure loomed. 

“Hello, Adam.” 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Oh, my God! Adam had never heard such a resonant voice. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. Generally, Adam considered himself to have been blessed with the gift of gab. But now, he was speechless.

“It’s all right, Adam. Everyone is taken aback at first. I’m St. Peter.” 

“What? The St. Peter? Like…like, I’m in heaven?” 

“Well, let’s not jump the gun, Adam. You and I need to have a bit of a chat first. Before we choose your next chapter.”

Then, just like, St. Peter popped the most dreaded question of every job interview: “So, tell me about yourself.” 

“St. Peter, I’m happy to meet you! I’m Adam. Adam Smith.” Adam smiled his most winning grin here. “Not the invisible hand guy, but my parents named me after him. And, indeed, Sir, or Saint, I am indeed a businessman. I did quite well. Took care of my bit…my bit of the business which was management quite well. Last year I was voted best dressed pim…pimple-free, and handsomest self-starter in all of LA. City of Angles! I should be here! I’m rich. I’m powerful in my own way. Know what I’m saying. Given your name and all that, I don’t know whether you’re interested — you got the whole ‘Saint’ thing going but your name is ‘Peter’ so — but anyway, if you are interested, I could fix you up real good if you know what I mean. I know you get a lot of applications for heaven and you can only take so many, but I’m a self-starter. Right? And I can help out. What do you say? Heaven. Okay?” Now, Adam smiled an even bigger grin. His cheeks hurt.

St. Peter asked, “And what is your idea of heaven, Adam?” 

“Well, easy! Kind of like on earth, but better. Everything gold! Unlimited wealth! Everything gold! No cops! What say? Am I in like Flynn?” 

St. Peter, and the bright room, and the door Adam entered all disappeared. In its place, Adam found himself on a street of golden mansions! He looked to his left — elegant mansions as far as he could see. He looked to his right — elegant mansions as far as he could see. Ahead of him was a well-appointed gold mansion with his name emblazoned on a huge sign. He walked up and sure enough, the front door opened at his touch. Inside, he feasted his orbs on the sight of gold floors, gold walls, gold furniture, and gold ceilings. His jaw literally dropped. “Now, this is more like it!”

Adam sat in a golden chair. He picked up the remote, also gold, and turned on the TV, also gold. It showed pictures of golden mansions. On every channel. “Wow! This place is cool! What do you think, now, Dad? Thought I’d never amount to anything. Hah! Here I am in heaven! Hear that, old man! I’m in fricking heaven!. A heaven of gold!” 

The next morning, Adam grew bored. And hungry. In his beautiful golden kitchen, beautiful golden dinnerware sparkled in golden drawers. No food though. It wasn’t clear exactly how this works, thought Adam. That’s all right. I’ll figure it out. He went out the front door and turned right; walked up the sidewalk to his neighbor’s front door and knocked. No answer. He peered in through an unfrosted window and saw that his neighbor’s interior was solid gold like his.

“No-one home, I guess” said Adam to no-one in particular. As he walked back out toward the street, he noticed for the first time that his neighbor’s mailbox matched his precisely. He walked over to at least find out what his neighbor’s name was. 

He read the name: ‘Adam Smith’. “What the hell?” said Adam.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Then, he noticed that the address was also the same. 

666

Adam ran down the street, knocking on every door. 

No-one answered. 

Adam looked at every mailbox. 

They all said the same thing: “Adam Smith, 666 Streets of Gold.” 

He screamed. To no-one in particular, “What kind of heaven is this?!” 

He sat in a lump on one of the identical porches. He looked at his lap. He turned over his hands and noticed that scrapes and bruises decorated his white knuckles with red and blue.

Adam said, to no-one in particular, “I’ll just keep knocking on every door till I find someone.” 

In high school, Adam had not paid much attention in any of his classes, but math class he especially despised. He had no idea what the hell the teacher had been talking about when she started talking about infinity. It seemed like an abstraction with no meaning whatsoever in the world of Ghetin High School. 

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Now, however, Adam would have plenty of time to discover the true meaning of infinity.

Karma: A Horror Story

Who Speaks for the Dead?

Plans for us; some GRUesome

Ramming your Head into a Brick Wall Doesn’t Make you a Hero

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Author Page on Amazon

Pardon me!

24 Thursday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

America, Constitution, Democracy, law, leadership, logic, Pardons, USA

“…and he shall have Power to grant Reprieves and Pardons for Offenses against the United States, except in Cases of Impeachment.” US Constitution, Article 2, Section 2.

One reading of this statement is simply this: If a President has been impeached, he will cede the power to grant reprieves and pardons. “He shall have power…except in cases of impeachment.” An impeached President — one completely without a shred of decency or ethics — could use the power of the pardon to shroud his own perfidy and prevent himself from being convicted of the high crimes and misdemeanors that he has been charged with in his impeachment. Then, it would make sense to put in a limitation to Presidential pardons in cases where the President has been impeached.

In a more narrow interpretation, he is only limited in that he is not to give pardons to people who are impeached. That would have been easy to clarify if that’s what was meant. 

Photo by NEOSiAM 2020 on Pexels.com

In either case, the provision does not say that the power is “unlimited.” It does not give explicit and specific limits (except in case of impeachment). That doesn’t mean that the power is unlimited. Those are two different concepts. 

I have bought many tools in my life. For instance, one of those tools is a hammer. Nowhere in the instructions for the hammer  does it say I can’t use the hammer to bash people’s brains in. Similarly, I own a saw. Nowhere in the instructions for the saw does it say that I can’t use it to dismember people and store their limbs in the freezer. I own a screwdriver. Nowhere in the instructions for the screwdriver does it say I can’t use to stab folks in the heart. I also own a car. Neither my registration nor my driver’s license says that I am not allowed to mow down pedestrians.

Yes, there are other laws that make it clear that I’m not allowed to murder people. 

Pardons are meant to be tools. The framers of the Constitution did not bother to say, “The Pardon is a tool that should be used to right wrongs and dispense mercy — not to be used to destroy the rule of law or help the President destroy the nation he is supposed to protect.” 

Why would they put that? A political entity clearly, by its very nature, must admit of a variety of opinions, approaches, and policies. They didn’t bother to put in the Constitution that the President, whatever his political leanings, must actually take his oath of office seriously. Clearly, #45 is working for Putin’s benefit & doing what he can, in a thousand ways, large and small, to destroy America. It makes zero sense, to use the Constitution as the excuse for him to destroy the Constitution.

If the rule of law is subverted, the entire rest of the Constitution is useless. That’s why he’s pardoning war criminals. He’s not pardoning anyone out of a sense of “loyalty” either. That’s absurd. He feels no loyalty for what people have done. He’s using pardons as a weapon for the destruction of the Constitution. 

Imagine you hired a contractor to fix your deck. You provide him with all the materials and tools he needs to do the job. You both sign a contract and you agree that he should be allowed to fix your deck without your standing there the whole time telling him how to do his job. After all, he’s the professional. 

Now, day one on the job, he begins to dismantle the deck. And the the supports. And your roof. He uses the hammer to smash your windows. He says, “Look! Look here! It says I can fix the deck any way I want. You are not to interfere.” 

You fire him. In no uncertain terms. But he comes back the next day and continues to destroy your house. Again he points to the contract and he points out that there is nothing in the contract that explicitly says he can’t destroy your house, just so long as he fixes the deck. Meanwhile, he’s hired a gang of thugs to keep you from physically kicking him off your property. He still claims to be fixing your deck, even though every piece of decking has been put through a chipper. You discover that someone wants to put up a shopping mall where your house is and he is paying your “contractor” to destroy your house so you’ll have to move. 

What comes next?

I’m not sure, but I am sure it was never intended by the framers of the Constitution that a sitting President should be allowed to use any single provision or any combination of provisions in the Constitution as a way to destroy the very Constitution he swore to uphold.

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

————————————-

Trumpism is a new religion 

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem 

Absolute is not just a vodka

Plans for us; some GRUesome

A Query on Quislings 

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

A Profound and Utter Failure 

My Cousin Bobby

Essays on America: Wednesday

Author Page on Amazon

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Essays on America: A Query on Quislings

22 Tuesday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

America, Democracy, Dictatorship, IMPOTUS, traitor, treason, USA

Photo by Aneta Foubu00edkovu00e1 on Pexels.com

Case 1: 

You own a dog. You love your dog. And you know your dog loves you. 

Your neighbor, on the other hand, you do not love. 

But you tolerate the guy despite his odd habits. 

Then, one day, your neighbor comes over and shoots your dog dead. 

In court, he explains that bullets only kill evil dogs. Bullets will pass through good dogs without harm. In fact, he claims he was doing you a favor, because an evil dog can appear like a good dog and then kill you in your sleep. And, as it turns out, he knows this is true because he found this out on the Internet. Then he heard it on Sketchy News Channel. He joined a group called “Bullets are Truth” on a social media site called “Parlez Vous Tromperie” which has cool pictures of scantily clothed acrobats all around the edges. 

Your friend is an adult. He went to high school. He came from a reasonable home. He was not on drugs when he murdered your dog. He is not certifiably insane. He insists he was doing you a favor. He was operating, of course, on the basis of misinformation.

It doesn’t matter. 

He killed your dog. 

The fact that he did it based on false information makes no difference in how you feel nor does it make a difference in the eyes of the law. The false information he believed in makes no sense and is easily disproven. It doesn’t matter that thousands of people were duped into believing the same nonsense.

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

Case 2. 

You own a dog. You love your dog. 

Same neighbor. Same result. He shot and killed your dog. 

Why?

When the truth at last comes out, it turns out that your spouse called him up and through sobs and hysterical screams, managed to squeak out that the dog had been bitten by a bat and though they had thought little of it at the time, the dog was now rabid and about to attack the children where they were all playing in the yard. She said she knew you had a gun and could you please save her children before it was too late!

Turns out your spouse always hated the dog and the neighbor. After the call, she smiled a very self-satisfied smile at her acting performance. Then, she let your dog out to play, but not before squirting whipped cream all over his muzzle. 

When your neighbor came into the yard he saw your dog charging toward the kids and apparently foaming at the mouth. 

He killed your dog. He did it on the basis of misinformation. 

After all the facts come out, you’ll probably still be pretty PO’d at your neighbor, but you’d be a lot more PO’d at your spouse! 

One crucial difference between Case 1 and Case 2 is that in Case 1, your neighbor had plenty of time to verify the veracity of the claim that bullets would pass “harmlessly” through the body of a “Good Dog.” In Case 2, your neighbor could have reasonably thought that he had zero time to do anything but save your children. In Case 1, your neighbor’s belief was absurd. In Case 2, your neighbor believed something unlikely to be true, but it wasn’t physically impossible. Dogs can catch rabies. And if a rabid dog bites a child, that’s really bad for the child.

What do you think are appropriate punishments in these two cases?



Case 3.

Case 3 is just like Case 1 except that your neighbor comes and shoots your kids. He has all the same excuses. He has all the same misinformation as in Case1. 

What do you think would be an appropriate punishment for your neighbor? How about the people who put the information on the Internet?

Or, perhaps you think all should be forgiven because he was misinformed?



Case 4.

Your neighbor relies on misinformation on TV and internet sites to engage in treasonous behavior toward America.

The minimum sentence for treason is five years in a Federal Penitentiary. 

The maximum penalty is death. 

What do you think is an appropriate price for committing treason when the traitor does it based on an absurd conspiracy theory — one that he sincerely believes?

———————————————


Plans for US; some GRUesome

Ramming your Head into a Brick Wall doesn’t Make you a Hero.

Transcript of Mystery Conversation

A Profound and Utter Failure

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie? 

My Cousin Bobby.

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