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Dialog: Killing Sticks

29 Sunday Dec 2019

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

≈ 1 Comment

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civility, debate, dialogue, discussion, legends, myth, peace, Second Amendment, story, tales, war, weapons

Sun with face rising on the horizon.

Original art by Pierce Morgan

As was traditional among the Veritas, before beginning the delving into such a troublesome topic as how to make sense of killing sticks, they sang their songs of the origins of the Veritas. They sang a song about their daily life and another about the dangers of greed and lying (taken from their story, “The Orange Man.”) Lastly, the ended with a song about the forgotten fields. 

These elements were traditional, but Many Paths opted to push their common ground even further because she knew this could be a very divisive topic. She intuited this partly from overhearing snippets of conversations as she passed by. She saw the puzzlement and concern on everyone’s face now. And, she reckoned that the idea of a weapon that kills so quickly quite reasonably caused much anxiety. When people were anxious they often shied away from the truth and from exploring many paths before running down one. She didn’t expect everyone to think of as many branches as she did, but she hoped they wouldn’t sprint thoughtlessly down the first path they spied. 

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“If you will indulge me, I would like us to recount for a few moments, our successes in the Battle of the Three Forks. I do this for two reasons. I recount this victory because it will remind us of our ability to work together and our creativity because in that battle, we used many weapons that some among us invented. Eagle Eyes, as you may recall, invented the slippery slope after watching the ant lion; she also trained the Eagle to protect her and found a way to divert the river. And what was our greatest weapon of all?” 

“Arrows well-aimed.” someone shouted. 

“Well, those are vital and we have some exceptionally good archers here.” In the mental screen of Many Paths, the image of Shadow Walker drawing a bow sprang to mind. She missed him all the time in the form of a dull ache, but seeing him so vividly in her mind’s eye sharpened the pain as a hot pepper may do to a toothache. She drew a curtain over that image and continued. “I suspect our greatest weapons were being patient and trying to understand our enemies. As a result, two of those so-called enemies were not even actual enemies. In the case of the Nomads of the South, we have formed friendships and exchanged goods to both of our benefits. I recount this tale because it is natural to fear a new weapon that we do not understand. It is wise to dialogue this. Let us do so thinking with our whole brain. Do not become panicked. We have long survived and we will survive long after. So — open your hearts and open your minds. What do we make of these killing sticks?” 

Trunk of Tree, being Trunk of Tree, immediately took a stand against the legitimacy of the question. “Before we go any further, I’d like to say our first step should be to verify this rather preposterous story with another witness.” 

“You do have another witness,” said Lion Slayer. “Me. I was there as well. We both saw and heard the same things. We surely were not struck by the same hallucination at the same time.”

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“There might be many ways for an illusion to occur. I do not fault you, but I am willing to lead another expedition to observe — and even steal this killing stick.” 

Lion Slayer slowly shook his head. “ I do agree, that it would be good to find out more, but it will take at least a week. And, once you are there…it is huge beyond your imaginings. In fact, we would have been captured several times except that, Eagle Eyes really is just that. But there are at least 100 times as many people there as we have Veritas. We saw what we saw and we came back here without being seen or caught. 

Eagle Eyes spoke up, “Lion Slayer’s right.” If you went back again to get an unnecessary verification, that person could be caught. That is not only a danger to the brave persons who would attempt to witness another such use; it is a danger to the whole tribe. If such a one were seen, these Z-Lotz would know that we know about these killing sticks. This may well hasten an attack as they would wish to do so before we learn how to make such weapons or defend against them. And, if such a one were caught, they would surely be tortured for information. Perhaps they would successfully resist or mislead but if they have a weapon such as this, who knows what kinds of torture they might have?”

In the Veritas form of dialogue, it was not necessary, particularly at the beginning to answer point with counterpoint. People just shared their thoughts and experiences. The Veritas actually listened to all of those who had spoken so far. There was a silence as the sun set in violent crimson and the roaring fire began to look brighter with the setting sun. 

Hudah Salem said, “I say to you that the Nomads of the south also think it good that we did not fight. It was not our fight. This now, we know more about the Z-Lotz and Nut-Pi. This now, we are happier still not to fight you.” 

Many Paths nodded. “So far, the strongest weapon we have found is not a weapon at all, but finding common cause so as not to fight at all.” 

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Trunk of Tree spoke again, “But imagine that the Nomads of the South had had such killing sticks, assuming they do exist. They may have been less reluctant to kill if it were so easy and so risk-free for them.”

A long silence ensued. The Veritas tried to imagine how having — or not having — an easier, more risk-free way to kill might or might not influence their actions and decisions. 

At last, Many Paths spoke. She realized that Trunk of Tree was likely using the dialogue as a way to demonstrate his wisdom and power. Nonetheless, it was more important, so she thought at the time, to seek the truth. “I believe you may be correct, Trunk of Tree. I would add that how much such killing sticks would encourage or deter going to war would depend on how a particular tribe thinks about life and how they reward their warriors and on what basis. All of these considerations must also be in our calculations as well. Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, I have a question, perhaps on the minds of many. In this meeting you witnessed, suppose that the leader of the Z-Lotz had not had a weapon of any kind. Would he have prevailed over these other men in any case?

Lion Slayer shook his head. “We cannot tell. We did not get a good look. Neither man seemed particularly — neither of them looked like Trunk of Tree. The one called Nut-Pi was a slight man, not young, but neither was he old. The first two he killed looked to be able-bodied warriors. The last man killed, the one he tortured, was portly. In a fight without weapons — who knows? We could not judge their skills.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next. “As Lion Slayer said, we did not have a chance to see the war skills of either. I can say with certainty that both Nut-Pi and the man we think was leader of the People who Steal Children were cowards. Neither one was a brave as our warriors.” 

Trunk of Tree questioned this as well. “How can you say this? You do not know.”

Eagle Eyes replied, “It is true. I do not know for certain. However, the Z-Lotz leader, Nut-Pi, though he had a killing stick, had numerous guards around him to face these unarmed persons. He used a weapon which easily and immediately killed two men. And yet, he did not use it just once but many times on his last victim. He intentionally and cruelly inflicted pain. Such damage as caused by the killing stick could have killed quickly. He chose to do it slowly instead. That is a bully. He used his power and his weapon to humiliate and cause unneeded pain. These are signs of a coward.” 

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There was a general murmur of assent. 

“The other man — the leader, so I think, of the People Who Steal Children begged for his life. He did not try to help his comrades. As Lion Slayer said, he looked to be one who has things brought to him all his life, or at least recently.” 

Many Paths added, “Indeed, we already have evidence that Nut-Pi was a coward. He did not participate in the Battle of Three Forks though he tricked others into fighting. He promised the booty to be gained from the defeat of the Veritas to three different tribes. Surely, he knows one thing cannot be given to three different tribes. He lied to his own comrades and allies. Such a man is a coward.” 

Trunk of Tree again spoke. Since he had no direct knowledge of the affairs, it began to seem to many among the Veritas that he was not participating in a true dialogue. This rarely happened, but it had happened. 

Trunk of Tree said, “So there are cowards with killing sticks and cowards without killing sticks. From this we learn nothing. A strong leader, who is not a coward could be a very formidable leader and lead his people to victory after victory.” After a short pause, he added, “Assuming they even exist, of course.” 

Eagle Eyes shot a look at Trunk of Tree and caught his eye. She signed to him subtly so that others might not see, but openly enough that Trunk of Tree caught the meaning of her deft sign language, as did Many Paths and several others. “Do you think I am a liar, Trunk of Tree?” the gestures asked.

Easy Tears spoke next, “Trunk of Tree, we welcome you to share your thoughts with the tribe, just as we welcome the thoughts of everyone in the tribe. But I, for one, would like to hear from others what they think of this killing stick. And, speaking of sticks, Many Paths, perhaps it is time to make use of the Talking Stick as well.” 

There was a general murmur of assent at this suggestion. The tribe had not forgotten that not so long ago, Trunk of Tree had spoken against the leadership of Many Paths and even now, it seemed that everything he said was aimed toward making him leader and making him in charge of the killing sticks, no matter what the costs. 

Many Paths stood and held aloft the Talking Stick.  She glanced around the circles and saw that Stone Chipper wanted to speak so she handed him the Talking Stick. 

“You all do know that we use arrowheads and spearheads and that the preparation of such requires work. Yet, most of you do other work, so you do not realize how much skill and how much work is involved in making a good arrowhead or a good spearhead or a really good axe. It may be that these killing sticks require much less work. Or, it may be that these killing sticks require much more work to fashion. We have no idea. We also have no idea how much skill is involved in keeping one or using one. We do not know how much using a killing dulls it. Can it be used ten times? A hundred times? A thousand times? Not everyone is equally skilled at bow and arrow. Not everyone is equally skilled at using a spear thrower. Sometimes, in learning to use our weapons, one of our own is injured. You have all heard how flaming arrows, which seem like an excellent weapon accidentally destroyed an entire village. We know nothing about the dangers of such killing sticks. Perhaps one who seeks to learn to become highly skilled might accidentally kill others or themselves while they are learning. Perhaps we should all have one. Perhaps no-one should. But I believe it would be foolish to steal them from these people of the great walled city, these Z-Lotz, until we know more about them. It isn’t just like stealing their bows and arrows which we know how to use and make and care for.” 

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Stone Chipper’s son, Horse Viewer offered his hand to his father who laid the Talking Stick for the first time in his son’s hand. Stone Chipper hoped his son’s would prove wise. “When I was young and first followed my father to help find appropriate stones, I generally walked barefoot. As I grew heavier and my father walked more quickly, I disliked the sharp stones on my feet. So, I began to wear moccasins as most do. This protected my feet. But it also made them softer. Is it not possible that using the Killing Sticks would make the arms that throw spears and the arm that strings and draws a bow softer and weaker as well? That is my thought.”

She Who Saves Many Lives took the Talking Stick and said, “And that is a good thought, Stone Chipper.” Though the tribe awaited her to say more, she passed the Talking Stick to A-OC.

“It is thus with hands as well. And muscles,” said A-OC. “When it is the season to climb the trees and fetch fruit, my skin and my arms both become stronger. But when it is a season of much weaving, only the tips of my fingers are hard.” With that she passed the Talking Stick to Bent Finger.

He silently held up the crooked index finger of his left hand. “It is true that the animals of the forest, the trees, even the rivers adapt as do our own bodies, but not always. Sometimes accidents happen and there is no repairing it. As you see, my badly broken finger never did straighten or regain its earlier strength. This makes me wonder about the accidents that might happen with such killing sticks about our camp.” 

P-OC gently took the Talking Stick. “We talk of killing sticks. But if I understand the tale told by Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, they saw one killing stick. Do we really know whether there are more?” 

Lion Slayer signaled his intention to speak again. Many Paths took the talking stick from P-OC and handed it to Lion Slayer. “It is true, P-OC. We only saw one. That is an important point. In the place where Sadah and I were born, there are many grains of sand. They are each but a very small rock, so tiny that even an ant may carry such a very small rock with no harm. But when there are many many such small stones and they fly together like a large murmuration of starlings, these insignificant tiny stones can kill the strongest among us if he is left unprotected.   So, I agree that it makes a great deal of difference if there is one such killing stick or a hundred or a hundred hundred.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next, “I do not know whether there are a hundred or a hundred hundred, but I am fairly certain that there are seventeen. I mean, at least seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer was taken aback. “But we only saw one. What do you mean?” 

Eagle Eyes explained. “I agree that the number is an important point, so I have been returning to our observations from before we arrived at the giant camp of the Z-Lotz. When we were searching the horizon for signs of our comrades, I saw many — well, 17 to be exact — of such similar sticks being carried among the party. I just thought at the time that they were odd spears or walking sticks. I did not realize at the time that they were sticks that kill so I did not pay much attention to them. But upon returning as I just have to what my eyes saw, there were seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer shook his head slowly. “I do not recall seeing any others. But I do believe Eagle Eyes. She is amazing. Her eyesight is much better than normal. It is possible…how do you…you notice so much, Eagle Eyes.”

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Many Paths picked up the Talking Stick and noticed Trunk of Tree wanting to talk. She used her prerogative though and added, “I, for one, believe Eagle Eyes. But we still do not know whether there are 17 or 100 or 100 of 100. This seems important for two reasons. First, a hundred hundred such weapons could be overwhelming while even so many as seventeen might be defeated by our archers. Aside from that, if there are only seventeen such Killing Sticks and each one owned by someone else, then, if we were to steal one to study, we would surely be found out. But if there are hundreds, a few missing would be far less noticeable.” 

Trunk of Tree could no longer contain himself, “Wait! A few minutes ago, you were cautioning against trying to learn more Now, you want us to steal such Killing Sticks.” 

Many Paths tilted her head toward Trunk of Tree and held the Talking Stick high. “Trunk of Tree, you must wait your turn, even as so must Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer who were actually there or even as so must everyone. You must wait your turn, even as young Horse Viewer did, though he be only of nine summers.” 

Gentle laughter murmured among the gathering and Many Paths continued. “I did not say either of those things. In fact, in my whole life, I don’t recall ever saying that we should not learn more. What I do believe is that it would be wonderful to know more about these Killing Sticks, but I also believe that there would be great risks in trying to steal one or more of them. I did not say that we should attempt such a theft. I said that if we were to steal some and that there were only a few, these Z-Lotz would likely notice that they had been stolen.” 

There were nods among many of the Veritas. 

Fleet of Foot signaled for the Talking Stick and Many Paths handed it to him. “Many Paths speaks true. I have been thinking of something else though. What would it mean if we had many such Killing Sticks and it were so easy to kill. What would it mean if we could kill with so little effort? Might not the people use them to kill each other?” He looked at the Veritas in the firelight as he spoke.

“Have you never quarreled with your neighbor and raised your voices in anger and tussled with them momentarily. Perhaps you were so angered you went home and plotted to kill them. But that took some thought. And as you thought about what to do, you soon came to realize that you had no real desire to kill your friend. You were merely angry. And so what if she were in the wrong. Your friendship is more important. And, the next day you embrace her and forget the argument of the yesterday, choosing life and love, in the today.

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“Imagine you had ready to hand one of these killing sticks and you got so mad you stung her to death with it. Your friend is dead. You will never be the same. Now, also are two families devastated. Anger and division will creep into our numbers as never before. 

“And suppose,” continued Fleet of Foot, that many tribes all have such weapons? Will they not have such moments and cause wars with the killing of many on both sides? And could these killing sticks not also be useful in keeping slaves?” 

Easy Tears added, “Yes, but there are other ways to do that — to keep slaves.”  

A-OC took another turn, “Is this possible misuse among ourselves not a greater danger than the temporary military disadvantage? If we cannot safely still such killing sticks, can we make  these killing sticks?” 

Stone Chipper asked, “Do we have any idea how they might work?” 

A long silence followed. 

Eagle Eyes said, “I know fairly well what they looked but I have no idea how the work.” 

Many Paths spoke, “It grows quite late. We must discuss this further, of course. For now, we must post more guards. Trunk of Tree, will you please consider how best to do that?” 

He nodded, glad of something to do and glad of the honor that Many Paths bestowed after chiding him somewhat for speaking out of turn. 

“Eagle Eyes, tomorrow, perhaps you and I and Staff Carver and Easy Tears may begin making some models of these Killing Sticks. I would like us to make perhaps seventeen — quite a good number for now — and spread them about among our people. I would like those who are given such to imagine that they are actual Killing Sticks. And, I would like everyone else among you to also imagine that they are true Killing Sticks. I would like to see how people react to these Killing Sticks among us as we continue to discuss what to do. Even though the Killing Sticks are no real, having such a thing — it is much like the masks we use to help with hunting. It will help us decide how to deal. Even such Killing Sticks as Nut-Pi has will not kill all our cousins in the sea and the air, all our brothers than hide in their tiny caves. Life will persist. This I know. Peace now be with you all.” She glanced at She Who Saves Many Lives. Even in the dim and flickering firelight she could see a small nod and an approving smile on the lips of the Elder. 

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Author Page on Amazon. 

Essays on America: Rejecting Adulthood

19 Thursday Dec 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

#45, ethics, Impeachment, maturity, politics, psychology, Putin, treason, Trump

It’s nothing more or less than a rejection of adulthood. 

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Don’t get me wrong. I love to play just as much as ever. 

But the days of feeling that the world revolves around me are long gone. I care about others. I care about the future. I don’t give in to every impulse that strikes me. 

Most people go through a period of young childhood when their sense of “right” and “wrong” is sometimes nothing more than the desire to avoid punishment and seek reward. Even so, I believe empathy begins around birth. Most adults reach the point where they do feel responsible to do their duty even when no-one knows whether they did or not. They don’t typically commit crimes; not just because they are afraid to get caught but because they realize that if everyone breaks laws, it will be terrible for everyone. 

Now, we have a “leader” who gives in to nearly every childish impulse. He doesn’t even blink at breaking laws; it is all about what he can get away with. 

That’s pretty bad. Think about it. The person who should be the “Leader of the Free World” is an impulsive, self-centered child. The person in charge of our military is an impulsive, self-centered child. The person who suggests “acting” cabinet heads is an impulsive, self-centered child.

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But there’s worse. 

An impulsive, self-centered child has been “training” his base to be the same. He appealed to people who felt that they had not been as successful as they had hoped. (That’s a lot of people!). And, some of them really worked hard and still didn’t reach their American dream. They were responsible. And they got stung. So, along comes a con man. He tells them that the reason they aren’t successful is because of foreigners, and immigrants, and liberals, and gays, and people of color, and democrats. He tells them that you can’t believe any of those people or the fake media. He tells them they don’t even have to be adult. All they have to do is believe everything he says. 

A small child cannot participate in a democratic debate whether it’s okay to run out into traffic. They need to be rewarded, punished, and even restrained on occasion by their parents in order to ensure their own safety. Their parents know about dangers that simply seem mysterious to the child. They see (and smell) parents drink whiskey. Why can’t they drink kerosene? Kids typically show some obedience to their parents. And kids also love their parents and that often holds for abusive parents as well as non-abusive parents. 

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It’s natural, on occasion, to recall childhood and long for the simplicity and lack of adult responsibilities. These days, so many voices calling from so many directions. So many people saying one thing and so many saying the exact opposite. If only there were some way to avoid all the confusion and go back to the days when all you had to do was do what your parents said and believe what they told you to believe. 

But now you can no longer rely on them. In fact, you might even be taking care of them. 

But wait! There’s hope! 

Here’s a guy who knows everything (according to him) and he’s powerful and does whatever he wants. I can just listen to whatever he says.

I don’t have to be an adult any more. I can be a child again. I will be part of the loved tribe. And someday there will be a better world for me. I will have a world in which white males get a pass on pretty much everything. And, I won’t have to compete with foreigners, and gays, and POC, and atheists, and Muslims, and Jews, and immigrants! I’ll be standing shoulder to shoulder with others like me and we will hail “Der Fooler” forever. 

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It’s understandable, but it is sad. It’s sad because almost none of those people will gain more than a teeny shred of the much-touted wonderful economy. And, if dictatorship does come to pass, they — like almost everyone — will be serfs without access to education, health care, communication devices, a free press, rights in the courts or a decent life. They won’t be better off than were Medieval serfs; they will be worse off because there is less free space and fewer free food sources. Instead of working fields all day where they could at least talk or sing, they’ll be stuck in sweatshop factories breathing polluted air and drinking polluted water. 

It has taken over 240 years for our country to evolve to the level of democracy we have now. It still isn’t fair. White males still have an unfair advantage. But our society is generally more respectful of the rights of all human beings than it was 240 years ago. 

But the fall to essentially zero rights can take place in less than a decade if people are unwilling to do their duty as adults. 


 

Author Page on Amazon. 

Solomon’s Seal

14 Saturday Dec 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

legends, myths, prophesy, psychology, songs, Veritas

“This Solomon’s Seal is delicious, Cat Eyes.” Tu-Swift had not realized how famished he was till be began eating. His meals at the ROI camp had been barely adequate calorically and lacked vital nutrients. Then, he had spent days mainly running from fire, limping, and riding a hollow log. 

Cat Eyes finished a bite and said, “Thanks. Nothing special. It’s Solomon’s Zeal by the way.” 

Tu-Swift shoveled in some more of the delicate roots. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor. After swallowing, Tu-Swift glanced at Cat Eyes. “That’s what I said. Solomon’s Seal.” 

Cat Eye’s eyes twinkled. “Yes. But it’s called Solomon’s Zeal.”

Shadow Walker chimed in. “I’m sure it’s called Solomon’s Seal, Cat Eyes.” 

Cat Eyes considered. “I learned about it long ago from my mother. In the days before I was stolen. I was young. I could be mistaken. But I really think Ma called it Solomon’s Zeal. In fact, I asked her what ‘Zeal’ was. She explained…” 

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Cat Eyes paused. She looked down and a far-away look came into her eyes. A teardrop slid down her cheek. Her voice roughened. “She explained what it meant. I suppose…since our branches walked over the mountain many years ago…I suppose we could have gradually changed the name. I don’t know.” 

Tu-Swift looked to Shadow Walker. “What or who is Solomon, anyway?” 

The group looked at each other blankly. Cat Eyes asked Jaccim and the two women, Rachel and Chrystal in their own language. All three were all familiar with the plant and had similar though different names for it. But all contained something like “Solomon” — though no-one had any idea what that meant. 

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Tu-Swift finished the last bite and said cheerily, “I don’t know who you are, Solomon, but thanks for the roots! I ate them with zeal.” He smiled broadly at Cat Eyes. Rachel tugged at her shoulder asking her to explain. Explaining wordplay across languages is never an easy task for the translator, but the expressions of amusement spread as she explained in various languages, one by one. 

Tu-Swift looked at her with something akin to admiration. This look was not lost on Shadow Walker. He kenned as well that Cat Eyes was special in more ways than her irises. Thinking of special women quickly led Shadow Walker to think of Many Paths. He missed her. He felt it as a hollowness that began in his chest and crept deeply into all his limbs. More than that, even the simple pleasure of eating after going without seemed somewhat flat. 

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At the same time, he felt responsible, as the oldest and strongest, for the safety of this entire party. He knew that moods could spread from one person to another and while they might be safe now from the ROI and the neighboring Z-lotz, such safety could be wishful thinking. None of them knew whether the Center Place of the Veritas itself had been attacked or whether any of the rest of their expedition had returned. It would be easy for Shadow Walker to walk the shadows and spiral himself into an ever-darker place of negative speculation. But such a mood could be contagious and so he forced himself to turn his mind elsewhere.  

As he often did, he took out one of the Rings of Empathy, the one only he and Many Paths shared. He turned it in his hand and felt a certainty grow that Many Paths was alive and well — at least for the near future. It could, of course, simply be a fantasy, but it made him feel better. And he looked over at Tu-Swift who hung on every word and gesture of Cat Eyes. She was beginning to relate one of the few memories she had from the Veritas land in the meadow between two mountains. 

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“We were out gathering medicinal herbs and came over a rise to see a long and lovely meadow before us, filled with the blazes of a thousand thousand blooms and blossoms of every hue. My Ma had a wondrous voice and she began to sing the story of the forgotten fields.” 

Tu-Swift sat mesmerized. Though he had many times heard the legend of the forgotten field of flowers, he had only heard it chanted, never sung tunefully as now. Cat Eyes seemed to sculpt the air itself. At long last, she came to the sad ending, the time when people forgot to enjoy the field of flowers and speak of their common gratitude for life and list the things they agreed on before beginning to speak of that which people disagreed on. 

Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker had many times heard the story before, but the companions of Cat Eyes had not. She did not try to reproduce the song but told them the gist of the story quickly. Tu-Swift sat for another moment simply looking in awe at Cat Eyes as she chattered in so many language so quickly. He realized he was tired, bone tired, but as he arose, Cat Eyes surprised him by continuing the singing. 

Shadow Walker had already arisen but sat back down in curiosity as well as common courtesy. He had never heard this verse either. The story had always ended with a sad lament, but now Cat Eyes was singing what appeared to be another verse. It made little sense but its mood was darker than the ending lament they were familiar with. She sang of a great death of spirit, and a time of darkness when the people stopped trying to find truth. She sang of a day that rose with a score of suns rather than just one — a day that spewed death far and wide.  

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Though it was only a story and a song, and surely this last part was completely fanciful, Tu-Swift tasted the salt of his own tear. He stared into the fire, remembering the fire that had almost burned him alive and tried to imagine that of which she sang— a day of fire everywhere.  A day of great death when people had grown too greedy and too rushed, when they had replaced woods, and fields, and meant to replace life itself. 

Tu-Swift frowned, sure as he readied himself for sleep that his dreams would be unsettling indeed. Someone of the Veritas village where she had grown up had made a horror story to scare children. He shook his head. 

Such craziness. People could never be that stupid. They know the story of the Orange Man. He shook his head and drifted off with this phrase reverberating in his head: 

“Such craziness.”

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Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field (Prose; First Verse Only). 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book One. 

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book Two. 

Author Page on Amazon. 

The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

07 Saturday Dec 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

Democracy, fascism, government, Impeachment, politics, truth

The Paradoxically Fierce Blind Defense of Untenable Positions. 

Quick! How do you know the earth is not flat? 

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If you’re like most people, the question seems absurd. Everyone knows the earth is not flat, you think. Why should I have to prove that? It’s silly. 

You’re so sure that the earth is round that you probably do not have a ready answer. You might know enough about astronomy or general science to put together a fairly convincing case, but unless you’re an elementary school teacher, or have family members who belong to the “Flat Earth Society” you will likely have to construct an answer “on the fly.” 

Although you might be “annoyed” at having to produce a rationale for something that “everyone knows” it is unlikely you will get downright enraged. If someone challenges you, you’ll likely just shake your head and walk away. Or, you might try to convince them that the earth is round. 

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You likely haven’t given much thought to how to “prove” that the earth is round; at least not since you were a kid. But there’s another and more insidious reason why you cannot “rattle off” a defense of the “earth is round” thesis. 

There’s no money to be made. Not only science, but commerce is premised on the fact that the earth is round. Since (nearly) everyone already knows the earth is round, no-one is being paid to make disturbing videos that seem to “prove” the earth is round. No-one has a troll farm somewhere paying people to post things on facebook or twitter to push the position that the earth is round. 

Let’s take another example. Imagine that you’re walking down the street one day and you look up from your iPhone long enough to notice a man who appears to be trying to walk through a brick wall. He bangs into it; backs up a few steps and walks into it again. 

You were just about to beat your personal best in Candy Crush, but you sigh and ask the man, “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like? I’m walking through this wall.” 

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The scenes from the Harry Potter movies where magical folks get to the Hogwarts Express via walking through the wall to get to platform 9 3/4 flash onto your internal TV. But you realize that is a movie about a magical world. Every instance you can come up with where someone walks through a wall is a cartoon or superhero. Perhaps this is where the guy got the idea. But here he is trying it out in real life. But he does’t just try it out once. Here he goes again. You don’t know how long he’s been doing this, but you’ve seen three trials, all with the same, and quite predictable result. 

You realize that if he keeps walking into the brick wall, he will eventually be injured. Moreover, a person who is so clearly self-destructive might do other, and even worse, self-destructive things. Would it be possible to talk them out of this behavior with logic or facts? That seems doubtful. After all, assuming they didn’t just pop up on the street from a completely different universe where walking through brick walls works, he’ll have already had plenty of opportunities to learn about the world. 

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The more absurd the false beliefs are, the more vigorously people will defend them. You’ve spent no time practicing arguments about why the earth is round or why you can’t walk through brick walls. On the other hand, someone who does believe in these things will have had many occasions when those beliefs were challenged. Nonetheless, they won’t be very successful in convincing others that, say, the earth is flat. But every time they try to make that sale, it will convince the person who constructs and voices such arguments, even more deeply that the earth is flat. So, even though they might tell this story 100 times and every single person remains unconvinced, by thinking that they have to “stand up for themselves” they will try out any sort of non-sense to bolster their position. And, if there were serious money to be made by convincing some people that the earth is flat, you can bet there would be a never-ending series of propaganda offerings to push in that direction. And, while most people will continue to believe the earth is round, occasionally someone will hear enough crap to really begin to wonder. 

Now, let’s go back to our original flat-earther who has just failed to convince one hundred people that the earth is flat — but at the same time, he (let’s say it’s a he named Milhaus) has practiced convincing himself 100 times. And now, a miracle occurs. Milhaus happens to run into Doubting Dolly who has heard or read screes promoting flat earth to the extent that she now experiences a certain amount of doubt. The two of them strike up an excited conversation in which each one reinforces the beliefs of the other. Mihaus is thrilled! Imagine! He’s been scoffed at as ridiculous 100 times. But now, right here, he finds an acolyte — someone who now shares his beliefs. The chances that Doubting Dolly will find such screes depends a lot on whether there is any extrinsic reward for writing and promulgating such screes. Flat Earth conspiracy theories don’t lend themselves to making money off such lies. 

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Other currently popular lies, on the other hand are promoted initially by people with vested narrowly selfish interests. But once enough “Milhaus”-types get converted, these falsehoods, however bizarre, get repeated over and over. For instance, the oil company oligarchs have known for years that their business model is seriously damaging human lives, changing climate, and putting much of life at risk. What do they do? They spend millions creating and promulgating false narratives. 

Ironically, then, people who hold untenable, counter-factual positions often are more practiced at their arguments than people who simply put forth the truth. Moreover, they not only are more practiced, they are also more emotionally involved. The average person who belongs to the “Flat Earth Society” has hugely more of their identity wrapped up in the idea of a flat earth than the average person has their identity wrapped up in the idea of a round earth. Of course, there are no valid arguments for a flat earth, for walking through a brick wall, or for interpreting the Constitution as saying that the President should be treated as a dictator. As a result, proponents of such things tend to scream and pound the table a lot. 

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The screaming and table pounding is not just out of frustration for not having any valid arguments. For people suffering from PTSD, or who have been in abusive relationships, or grew up in an abusive household, yelling and screaming and pounding the table reminds them of terror and a remembrance that the only way to avoid pain is to make daddy happy. Oh, let’s find out what Pappa Putin wants and give it to him! Maybe we’ll get lucky and he won’t end up treating American citizens as badly as he’s treated his own countrymen. Maybe. But don’t count on it. 

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Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing!

24 Sunday Nov 2019

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

≈ 29 Comments

Tags

cowardice, Impeachment, Putin, religion, treason, Trump

The more common expression “Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing” originates from the Bible. In the King James Version, we have: 

Matthew 7:15-23 King James Version (KJV)

15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

16 Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?

17 Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.

18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.

19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.

20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.

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There are actually two common sayings that come from this verse. First, “Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing.” Second, “A tree is known by the fruit it bears.” These are both wise aphorisms that are appropriate to many situations. For instance, people may appear to be gentle or feign liking you when their real intention is to put you off your guard which makes it easier to take advantage of you. The second one is particularly apt when looking at the concept of “fake news.” Amazingly, many people now call “mainstream media” like the New York Times, The Wall Street Journal or The Washington Post, “fake” despite the fact that they have been around for a long time and still make significant proportions of the money from subscriptions. Meanwhile, they see as “true,” the unsubstantiated claims of purely on-line media completely paid on the basis of how effective their “click-bait” headlines are, many of which are developed by Russian troll farms. Sad, and partly dealt with in earlier essays which you can access here. 

Social Media and Divisiveness

However, in this essay, I want to turn the first famous phrase around so that we have: “Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing.” Bn this expression, what I mean is that people present themselves as brave fighters for your rights or for the truth when they are actually simply sheepishly going along with a crowd. Americans particularly value individualism and bucking authority to do what is right. In some cultures, people would feel far less positively toward the “lone wolf” crusader. But here in America, we don’t like to be thought of as “sheep.” We tend to respect folks who are brave individualists doing things their own way. 

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This high valuation of uniqueness is often used by clever sales people to make you think what they are offering you is a “special deal” that would “get them in trouble with their supervisor” if it became known that they were giving you such a wonderful and unique deal. Of course, in reality, it isn’t a special deal at all. It’s the same line they give everyone who they try to sell insurance or cars or houses to. But they make it out as though they are being a bit of a rogue by bending the rules for your benefit, and that therefore, the two of you are in league; you are both “in the know” for this special deal. 

While the deal is presented as unique, the product may be sold as being popular. In fact, the product or service is often presented as being in very short supply. “Grab this special deal before it goes away, because so many people desire this product. Luckily, there’s one left just for you — but only if you act now, (before you have a chance to compare prices, terms, and products).” 

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Here’s a common variant. Someone comes to your door claiming that they were “in the neighborhood” anyway working with “some of your neighbors” to — pick one: clean gutters, install solar tiles, cut trees, clear underbrush, pave driveways, put in satellite dishes, etc. Since they are “in the neighborhood anyway,” they can give you a special deal on the gutter cleaning, brush clearing, etc. Obviously, this “special deal” is only available for “right now” because otherwise, they’ll have to make a trip just for you. 

No doubt, for many people, including me, part of the appeal of Barack Obama was his uniqueness. The offspring of two parents of quite different heritages, he spent his early life dealing with a much wider variety of people than most American politicians. 

Donald Trump portrayed himself as very much the “outsider to politics as usual.” He claimed to be “different” from the “swamp” of politicians that typically infest Washington DC. Instead, he was a highly successful businessman, according to him, and knew how to get things done, according to him. He was feisty, so he said, and “not afraid” to “tell it like it is.” He eschewed “political correctness.” He portrayed himself as someone unique and self-defined — in other words a “Wolf.” 

He is not. 

He is not brave. He is not courageous and he is not unique. He is not even, by most measures, anything approaching a “self-made man” or a successful businessman. He was given a fortune by his father. By most accounts, he’s particularly inept as a businessman (it’s hard to know exactly because, although he promised to release his tax returns, he never has, and in fact has had his lawyers fight releasing them at every turn). He would be far richer today if he had simply invested his inheritance in an index fund.

https://www.newyorker.com/news/our-columnists/as-a-businessman-trump-was-the-biggest-loser-of-all

He has a “track record” of portraying himself as richer, more famous, and more successful than he really is. You can read about any of this elsewhere (see links below), but let me skip that and tell you about my limited personal experience. About a decade ago, Trump bought a golf club that I belonged to. He made some nice improvements, by the way, to the clubhouse and these were real improvements. He also put up several posters of himself portrayed as “Man of the Year” on the Time Magazine cover. If I owned a golf club, I would not personally put up illustrations of how great I am. But, I thought: “Well, it’s a matter of personal taste. I find it braggadocios but fine.” Except is was a lie. A lie that came true a decade later! In 2016, he really was named “Person of the Year” and really did have his picture on the cover of Time. But it was definitely a lie when he put up the posters. 

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That was far from the most egregious lie even at that time. Given all the lies that he has told since, I hesitate to even use the word “egregious.” It seems that the very concept of egregious has been egregiously extended by Trump into what we see as “normal.” His posting a false cover was certainly nothing like the whoppers he’s told since in the seriousness of import, but it struck me at the time as egregious, so I’m keeping with it. Before Donald bought our golf club, they, like most, hosted several “Club Championships” each year. The winners had received cups and their names were prominently displayed on plaques in the clubhouse. When Donald bought the club, many people quit the club, including several former club champions. Donald had their names removed from the Championship Plaques and put his own name there as champion for those years. He had not only not won those championships. He hadn’t even played in them. 

What kind of a person would feel anything but shame for putting their name undeservedly on a championship plaque? If you did it, for any reason whatsoever, I would imagine you would feel embarrassed or ashamed whenever you looked at it. I know I would. It takes a certain degree of courage to enter an athletic contest. You could fail miserably and publicly. You might win. Winning might take all your courage, whatever the sport. But putting your name on a trophy for something you never did? That takes no courage. That’s the act of a coward. Eventually, he got so much grief over this from the members that he took his name off those plaques. That should also be noted, because that too shows his lack of courage. 

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#45 portrays himself even today as the champion of the “common person” even though he lived in a gilded penthouse, in fact, commenting on what a dump the White House was upon arrival. Trump portrays himself, not just as “the champion” when he isn’t; he portrays himself as a brave champion fighting the “forces of evil” which include (in his rhetoric) the Main Stream Media, the Washington insiders, and so on. In fact, he is not brave at all. 

He had his dad bribe doctors to lie repeatedly about mythical “heel spurs” to prevent being drafted into service. He or his proxies released a video supposedly showing him sneaking up on a “Professional Wrestling” (in other words, fake wrestling) referee and sucker-punching the ref. Trump regularly urges others, for instance, an entire crowd, to gang up on protestors in his audiences and beat them up. 

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Such calls to violence are not mere stage tricks. They have consequences. People have died. Never has Donald Trump been put in danger by his calls to violence. He’s never offered to “fight” anyone in his ranting tweets. Without a shred of evidence, he’s named people in the media, Democratic donors, and Democratic politicians as “enemies of the people” as well as entire races, countries, and religions. “Inspired” by such lies and calls to violence, there have been mass murders and attempted murders. Right before the 2018 elections, as you would undoubtedly recall with respect to any other presidency, pipe bombs were sent to Kamala Harris, Corey Booker, and Tom Steyer, CNN, George Soros, the Obamas, and the Clintons, among others including former intelligence head, James Clapper.  

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/26/nyregion/cnn-cory-booker-pipe-bombs-sent.html  

Sending pipe bombs is a cowardly act, but if so, isn’t encouraging people to do it even more cowardly. What were the consequences for Trump? None. 

A brave man stands up for his actions and their consequences. A coward induces others to do his dirty work for him and then moves on.

On October 27, 2018, a gunman entered the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, and attacked worshippers killing eleven innocent people and wounding another six.

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

This coward was more indirectly, but no less importantly, inspired by the hate-speech of Trump. For example, after an innocent protestor was mowed down by a White Nationalists, Trump famously said there were probably good people on both sides. His foreign policy and public statements encouraged an increase in people applying for asylum at our Southern Border. This he described as an “army” attacking our country. That also played into the sick logic of the attacker. 

What were the consequences of Donald J. Trump when these innocent people were gunned down in cold blood? 

Nothing. 

The right of free speech is vital to our democracy. But it is not an unrestricted right. You cannot, without penalty, walk into an operating room and start screaming at the doctors. You cannot yell obscenities at the top of your lungs in the middle of a restaurant. You cannot yell “FIRE!” in a crowded theater. You would face consequences if you did any of these things. 

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Unless you are the President of the United States, that is. He un-bravely incites others to violence that results in innocent deaths and a perpetrator likely spending the rest of their life in prison, but suffers nothing himself. 

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What a ‘brave’ wolf. Most people care when they have any involvement whatsoever in the harm of innocent others. Isn’t that true of you? And the people you know? Suppose you invite a friend over for dinner and they are involved in a serious car accident on the way over? All you did was to ask them over for dinner. The accident is not your fault. Not at all. You did nothing wrong. Nonetheless, if you’re anything like the people I know, it would certainly run through your mind that if only you had not made the invitation or if only you had reminded them to drive safely or … Hopefully, you’ll recognize that you aren’t really at fault and “forgive” yourself and not only see logically, but feel as well that you really are not to blame. But if you encourage hatred against a whole group of people and then some of those people get hurt, you certainly are partly responsible. 

August 3rd, 2019, a gunman drove 650 miles to El Paso and used an automatic weapon to destroy the lives of 22 innocent Hispanics and wounding another 24. His language on-line is much like Trump’s in concept and wording, but the shooter claims he had these beliefs before Trump. That may be true, but do you think having the President of the United States express those same opinions might influence the chances you would plan out and execute a mass murder?    

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2019_El_Paso_shooting

Will Trump bear any responsibility for all those lives needlessly lost? No. The shooter, however, will likely spend the rest of his life in jail. 

Look at the record of how Trump has treated all his “top notch” picks for various positions within his White House. They are the best thing since sliced bread, until they are fired, which he rarely has the courage to do face to face. Imagine being the President of the United States and not having the courage to fire your employee face to face. Among other things, you’re the head of the greatest military force in the history of the world and you’re surrounded by the extraordinary people of the Secret Service! And, yet, Heel Spurs is afraid to fire people face to face. Wow!

And now the incontrovertible evidence mounts even higher that he isn’t even doing this all for his own interest. He’s doing it for Putin! Yes, yes, Trump is making money hand over fist for his Crime Family, but it’s peanuts compared to what he’s handing over to Putin which is nothing less than world leadership! 

Putin desperately wants to reconstitute the USSR before he dies. His biggest impediments until now was NATO and its member states. And America was a particular thorn in the side of his ambitions. Until now. Because now, Trump is cowered to do Putin’s bidding. Putin’s agenda, which Trump has been working on since even before day one of his Presidency is three-fold: 1) isolate America from her allies; 2) divide the country; 3) weaken the military, state, & intelligence functions of America. 

Pulling out of the Paris Climate Accord; pulling out of the Iran deal; dissing the leaders of democracies while cozying up to brutal dictators; suddenly withdrawing support for the Kurds; throwing shadows corruption on the legitimate government of the Ukraine when their president ran on an anti-corruption ticket — all of these things isolate America from her allies. For most of us, they are also bad decisions, but whether a decision is bad is a matter of balance and potential disagreements. Doing the bidding of Putin against our national security and national interest is something else. It is treason, clearly, but it is also an act of almost transcendent cowardice. 

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The divisive rhetoric of the President also plays right into Putin’s hands. It isn’t just that it plays to racism, misogyny, Islamophobia, homophobia, and other absurdities though that’s plenty evil in and of itself. It’s purposeful on the part of Putin and Trump damned well knows it. It isn’t just using “bad language” or being inarticulate or not being “politically correct.” Trump urges violence of some Americans against others. For God’s sake! What President of America does that? Of course, it’s in Putin’s interest to have a divided America. It’s not in our interest or the interests of our allies and trading partners. They would like to see a reliable and stable America. That’s in everyone’s interest. But to intentionally divide the nation against each other when the only two benefits of that are: 1) Trump keeping his base riled up and 2) Vladimir Putin being that much closer to his USSR 2.0? That is the essence of cowardice. 

We should be able to see by now, that the replacement of experienced professionals in the State Department, the Military Command, the Intelligence Agencies, and the Justice Department with complete lackeys doesn’t only allow “Trump to be Trump” and run the details of the government for his own profit. It also destroys the effectiveness of these agencies and causes the public to lose confidence. Who benefits from all this? Putin, of course. Just to take a recent example, three US Soldiers who were convicted by Courts-Martial of war crimes were “pardoned” by Donald Trump. What does this do? It lowers the morale of the armed forces. As does the ban on trans people and his unwillingness to visit troops anywhere near a war zone. As does issuing orders without planning. As does casually giving away important intelligence. Cowardice, plain and simple and extensive. 

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Sadly, it turns out that Trump is not the only sheep who pretends to be a voracious wolf. There are many such sheep in the GOP Congress as well. They rant and they rave and they shout and pray. But at the end of the day, they do Putin’s bidding. They support isolating us from our allies, even promulgating lies about our allies — lies that are all part of our enemy’s propaganda operations. 

These roaring GOP sheep support dividing the country against each other. They could have censured Trump the very first time he showed his racist side. But they didn’t. Nor the second time. Nor the third. Nor the thousandth. Many of them won’t even face their constituents in town halls. 

Mitch McConnell refused to bring up for a vote any of the many bills that the House passed to deal with serious American issues. And, at the same time, the Russian trolls are spewing out messages on Facebook and Twitter that basically say: “Its a do-nothing Congress.” or even “What good is Congress?” 

It is a series of Babushka Sheep. Look inside. 

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It isn’t turtles all the way down, after all. 

It’s cowardice. It’s sheep. However loud these sheep howl, they’re still sheep.

But you don’t have to be. 

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It’s Your Call!

19 Tuesday Nov 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, sports, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

cats, Democracy, fascism, Feedback, games, politics, sports, Tennis

It’s Your Call

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Tennis is played on a so-called court. As a matter of fact, when tennis began, it was literally played in a courtyard and people could hit the ball off roofs, etc. But, now the game has become much more regular. Historians believe tennis began in the 12th century. At that point, the ball was hit with the hand. At what point does it become close enough to modern tennis to deserve the name? I don’t know. My cats have been known to play a kind of primitive tennis with me and, more rarely, with each other. 

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The most elaborate example of the latter was something I walked in on. Under the kitchen table were three of our cats batting back and forth the lifeless body of a small lizard who had unfortunately managed to sneak into our house. The cats are well-fed so there was no rushing or fighting over the meat. No, they were batting it back and forth. I don’t know how long they had been playing this little game, but at the point I observed them, they seemed rather bored. I can tell you that when I play tennis, almost all the time, almost all the players exhibit enthusiasm for the game. 

Tennis, it turns out, is much like the game my cats played. Just as the cats did, there is a defined space within which a small object (lizard, tennis ball, etc.) gets batted back and forth. Sides (one or two people to a side) take turns batting the ball over to the other side. This back and forth continues until one side is unable to return the ball into their opponents side of the court. The ball must pass over the net before bouncing and it must land in the opponent’s side of the court. In tennis, as in baseball, if a ball hits the line (even a little) it is “in.” So, knowing when the ball is “in” or “out” is quite critical for scorekeeping purposes, just as it is in nearly every game or sport. “Baseball,” they say, “is a game of inches.” And so is tennis. And football, and hockey, and gymnastics, and basketball, and golf! There are boundaries — and often it is both critical and hard to determine where something falls with respect to those boundaries. 

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For that reason, professional tennis tournaments have not just one, but several people whose sole responsibility is to determine whether balls are “in” or “out.” There is also a “chair umpire” who has several roles but one of which is to serve as a kind of “over-judge.” He can “overrule” one of the linesman as to whether a ball was in or out. More recently, technology has added yet another layer of “presumed certainty” about whether a ball was in or out. Everyone assumes — or has agreed to act as though they assume — that the technology is perfect. As someone who spent many years working with technology, I think it is perfectly safe to assume that the technology is not perfect. But it is, in pro tennis, the final arbiter. 

The kind of tennis I play, “Club Tennis” or “Friendly Tennis” is quite another matter! Our prize money is nil. Our trophies are nil. That doesn’t mean people don’t play their hearts out! But who gets to say whether a ball is in our out? We don’t have technology or line judges; we make our own calls. Here is the over-riding rule of “Friendly tennis”: people call the ball “in” or “out” on their own side of the court. There are three major reasons for this. First, when you hit a ball, you intend for it to be “in.” Second, if the ball is “in” that is to your advantage in winning the game. Both of these are “psychological” effects that impact everyone to a greater or lesser degree and will tend to make them “see” their close shots as in that are really out. The third reason, however, is much more important and it is purely physical. In nearly every case, the person who is attempting to hit the ball is way way closer to the ball (and the line) than anyone else. 

Sometimes, however, there are mitigating circumstances. The person hitting the ball may be running hard and tracking the ball in order to hit it. It sometimes happens that they will admit to having no idea whether the ball was in or out. The first recourse is to ask their partner whether they saw the ball clearly. They might also ask their opponents. Remember: it’s a friendly game. But that does not mean it always stays free from controversy. 

You are supposed to call a ball “out” only if you are sure it was out. What “sure” means though can vary quite a bit from person to person. There are also physical reasons why some people’s line calling is better than others. Many players in our games wear glasses. I won’t go into all the various issues with glasses. If you wear glasses you already know and if you don’t, you couldn’t care less. (Unless you’re extremely empathic and then, you might want to read “The Myths of the Veritas” which delve heavily into empathy; go ahead; give it a try; it’s free with no ads). People also differ in how much they compensate for the effect of parallax. If I am receiving a serve, for instance, I am likely to see a ball that’s slightly long as “in” while the server will tend to see it as “out” even if it is barely in. If a serve comes to my side and lands near the line, the effect of parallax is to make them look “out” even when they are slightly in. Some people are aware of these effects and some aren’t. To make a long story short, people don’t always make the best call. 

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We have the exact same issues that we had when we played baseball, football, in grade school. The only difference is that now that we are in our 70’s we don’t spoil our day and tell Johnny we’re not going to play with him any more. Instead, we revert to “It’s your call” even when we “know” that our opponents have just called one of our hits that was really in, out. 

In the same way, in life outside the tennis realm, we can sometimes see problems that the person nearest to their problem cannot see. We may know that you are eating too much for your own good, or drinking too much, or would be happier in the long run if you studied harder. We might say that, under the right circumstances, to a good friend. But — at the end of the day, it is “their call.” 

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As I’ve argued elsewhere, there seems to be an urban/rural difference in how hard one pushes to let people know they are screwing up. It isn’t only an urban rural split. It seems to me, that many conservatives are afraid that liberals want to make them do and be and like all the things they do! But liberals, you see, by the very nature of the word “liberal,” don’t want to have everyone the same. It’s okay with almost all liberals if you go bowling, or play tennis, or watch NASCAR. We’re not going to force everyone to eat quiche or adopt a “gay lifestyle.” I have to admit, I do think there are some liberals who would be happy to write you an extremely detailed “prescription” for your life. But they are really rare exceptions, in my experience. Liberals, just like conservatives, do want to have laws that prevent people from hurting others for no reason. 

There are interesting edge cases that people may differ on. Is this “your call” or “our call”? That has changed over time as people have multiplied across the earth and as science has understood more and more of our interactions. In the middle ages, when people began congregating in large cities, they lived in (what we would now call) disastrously unsanitary conditions that were ideal for plagues. Dump your sewage into a place that flows into the water supply? Sure. It’s your sewage after all. But now we know that is not a good idea. 

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When I was a kid, my dad and my grandpa would “rake the leaves” in the fall; rake the leaves into a big pile; and then burn them. And, everyone was doing that. Now, I would guess that such is illegal in most places in the US. We realize that the smoke doesn’t simply “disappear” but is, in fact, bad for other people. You are burning the leaves on your land, but the smoke doesn’t stay there. Now, we’re more savvy than when I was a kid. But it’s much more than that. There are also a lot more of us! When I born, there were about 2.4 billion people on earth; now there are more than 7 billion. But it isn’t only the number. Many of us around the earth, including me, are using up a lot more resources than we did back then. We are using materials like plastics and sending more and worse chemicals out into the environment we all share. I still believe in the general principle that it’s your call, in terms of how much pollution you are willing to live with. 

As I’ve mentioned before, Air Fresheners are a good example of a bad example. So-called “Air Fresheners” do nothing of the kind. They make you think the air is fresher because they have perfume in them. Not only that; they typically include carcinogens, a chemical to mess with your hormones and another chemical that deadens your sense of smell! You see? Air Fresheners, some people might call the “Bill Barr” of household products. They label themselves as “Air Freshener” but they are really noxious stuff that only makes the whole situation worse. 

I’m afraid that what is “your call” will continue to shrink in some ways if humanity keeps expanding the population and using up more and more resources. On the other hand, the space of what is your call is also expanding. Whether it is sports, clothing, food, games, movies, TV, books, experiences — even with the choice of burning autumn leaves in your backyard gone, you have way more choices available to you than your parents or grandparents had. 

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If there is one person in a car driving alone, they can pick the music they want and play it loud. They can change stations every two seconds. Or not. But if there are six people in the car, it’s going to be more complicated. That’s not because people hate your music or hate you. Now, you could take the attitude: “It’s my car, so I’ll pick whatever music I please!” And then, you might choose to play disco music at full blast. You could. But if you do that, then as soon as possible, people will choose note to ride with you. That’s okay. But don’t complain that you’re ever more isolated. It’s not your choice of music that isolates you. It’s your insistence that everyone is subjected only to what appeals to you. 

And, then we come, at last, as we seem to inevitably do, to the crisis at hand.  

It’s our collective “call” to determine who our leaders are. Some prefer someone who is stately, intelligent, and diplomatic. And, some prefer Donald Trump: bombastic, often inarticulate, and crude. Styles and tastes differ. It’s your call. Personally, I don’t think style is irrelevant, but I don’t think it’s vital either. 

But being an agent, witting or unwitting, of Vladimir Putin, rather than of America, is not a question of style. Doing what is in Russian interests and against the interest of America over and over is not a matter of style. Nor is dividing the country against itself. Nor isolating us from our allies. Nor destroying the morale of our intelligence agencies, our military command, our State Department, and the Justice Department. 

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If it were possible for you to have a dictatorship and for me to stay in a democracy, that might be fine. I would caution you that you wouldn’t really be the least bit happy about living in a dictatorship, but in the end, that’s your call. Also problematic is the fact that dictators are almost never satisfied with the absolute power they have and want to keep extending it to other areas. 

Donald Trump doesn’t want to just be dictator of the Republican Party (which he pretty much already is). He wants to be dictator of the entire country. That is destroying and will continue to destroy everything good about America. It’s the whole country. It’s not just your car. Before finding out just how horrendous it is for everyone to live in a dictatorship, go live for a few months at least, in a cult that has a dictator and see how you like it. You might like it. You might not. It’s your call. 

But America is not going to let our entire country go to ruin. No-one has the right to make that call. 

That would be like one of my tennis opponents saying, “The ball was “out” and furthermore, from now on, everyone’s tennis rackets are mine and you can only play when I say so and I win every game no matter what happens! 

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You know. It’s possible it could happen one day. We’re old. People have strokes. People get dementia. I hope none of my regular tennis players go insane like that, and if they do, I hope they get appropriate care. 

We’re not crazy enough to “give in” to such absurd demands! Not even if he yells and screams and says, “It’s my call!” 

Because it isn’t. 

It’s our call.

———————————-

Author Page on Amazon. 

The Myths of the Veritas 

Trumpism as the new religion

Why the Rule of Law is important

City Mouse and Country Mouse

 

It’s Just Tommy being Tommy!

11 Monday Nov 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

America, Democracy, Dictatorship, politics, psychology, truth, USA

It’s Just Tommy being Tommy!

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Imagine for a moment that you pack your family into your car and drive to your in-laws for the holidays. Of course, the traffic is horrendous. When you arrive at the nicely decorated house, a few snowflakes waft through the air. You and your family walk up the flagstone walk to the wreathed door and you’re greeted warmly. In you go, all five of you, each carrying a nicely wrapped present or two. Christmas music plays in the background and the smell of turkey with all the trimmings is in the air. Your mouth is watering! Your tempted to to short-circuit the introductory phase and head straight to the buffet — just for a taste. But that would be impolite. 

Yet, something seems amiss. What is that noise? Their spoiled little brat, Tommy is running amok in the living room shooting the loudest cap guns you’ve ever heard in your life. It slowly dawns on you that no cap gun makes that kind of noise. Those are actual bullets! They must have given their ten-year old who mistreats pets, bikes, and toys actual working guns for early Christmas presents. 

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What do you do now? I mean, on the one hand, your in-laws have prepared a wonderful Christmas Dinner. Your stomach is growling. Besides, it will be embarrassing to just walk out. 

On the other hand, you don’t want your kids to be accidentally killed or maimed for the rest of their life. You don’t really want yourself or your spouse to be killed either. 

Sounds like a pretty absurd scenario, doesn’t it? 

But polls indicate that many Americans are just fine sitting down to dinner in this scenario. 

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If you are one of those folks, you don’t even insist that the guns be taken away from Tommy. In fact, many of you even encourage the parents. “It’s great that you’ve finally found something Tommy can feel responsible for.” Or, “Oh, well, that’s just Tommy being Tommy! After all, no-one’s perfect!” Or, “Well, yes, Tommy might hurt someone, but that’s true of all kids.” 

And that weekend, assuming there are no casualties at dinner, you are happy to send your kids over for a playdate. And there’s Tommy with his real guns loaded with real bullets putting real lives at danger. But I guess you wouldn’t want to embarrass your in-laws. And, who doesn’t like a free meal or free baby-sitting?

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It’s just Tommy being Tommy! 

——————————————- 

My first experience with real guns could well have been my last. Free chapter 

from “Tales from an American Childhood” 

Author Page on Amazon. 

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Teamwork. 

The Myths of the Veritas. 

Lion Slayer & Eagle Eyes Return

07 Thursday Nov 2019

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

empathy, leadership, legends, management, myths, story, Veritas

Although Lion Slayer had not specifically been tested or trained the way that Eagle Eyes had, since he was a human being, he could read the excitement on the visage of Eagle Eyes as she crouched down, turned back and scurried back toward him. 

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“What did you see? What’s there?” asked Lion Slayer. 

“I saw an old friend! The Mountain of Twin Peaks! We are only two days from our Center Place. Sorry, I mean…well, the Center Place of the Veritas. Who knows? Perhaps we will soon see all our friends! Let me go back to the crest and scan the horizon for trouble for awhile. If all looks well, we should continue our journey.”

“I pray to soon see once again Hudah Salem and that she is well. And, for Fleet-of-Foot as well.”

Soon, they both lay on their bellies at the crest and scanned the land below them for any signs of trouble. It occurred to Eagle Eyes that Lion Slayer was unlikely to see something that escaped her own eyes, but she kept that to herself. And, she could well be wrong. Just because she could see details and patterns that escaped most people did not prove he was incapable of recognizing patterns that she could not see. After all, he had spent years seeing patterns in a different environment than she had. He might well see dangers that she would have missed. As Shadow Walker discovered, a snake may find you by your heat. She imagined for a moment being a snake finding Lion Slayer by his heat. That line of though, for some odd reason,  reminded her that Lion Slayer looked strong and handsome.

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After a time, they glanced at each other, smiled, and nodded to signal their agreement that it was time to move forward. Though they had spotted no trouble, because they were visible on this downslope for a good distance in many directions, they moved only when the wind stirred and kept from moving in lock-step. Soon, they reached the cover of a large wood. They entered the forest in good spirits. Eagle Eyes had reassured Lion Slayer that they would very soon reach lands that she was intimately familiar with. 

“If we’re lucky,” she claimed, “we may make tomorrow night’s feast!

————————————————————

Meanwhile, Trunk of Tree had somehow convinced himself that he would make a better leader than Many Paths. Try as he might, he could not convince others to share this opinion. All he did as he sought out support was to distance himself from others. Prior to his questioning of Many Paths, he had actually been popular and well-respected among the Veritas, both for his strength and for his not inconsiderable military instincts. But this campaign, he reflected is going very badly for me. He brooded on his failure and recalled that ALT-R had used POND MUD in his various schemes. As he paced back and forth along a line of wild blueberries, he turned the problem this way and that. Aloud, he said, “Who can be my POND MUD?” 

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As chance would have it, Many Paths had come with Easy Tears to pick some blueberries and overheard his odd question. Preoccupied as he was, Trunk of Tree did not notice their presence. Many Paths found herself tempted to keep around the bend out of sight to see whether Trunk of Tree would say anything else. But she felt a mild dishonesty fringed such an action so she playfully announced, “Well, met, Trunk of Tree. I don’t think that things ended well for POND MUD, nor for ALT-R either. But I am sorry if you are mourning him. I felt bad that we lost both of them to the forces of greed and deception. In the end, it was as though they were the offspring of The Orange Man.” 

Trunk of Tree glanced back and forth between the two young maids and his cheeks reddened. “Well, I’m not really mourning him. I was just curious — do you know anything about their friendship? I mean, I don’t see why POND MUD did whatever ALT-R said. Do you understand it?” 

“Not fully,” answered Many Paths truthfully. “I did find out that POND MUD somehow got it in his head — well, because ALT-R told him so — that ALT-R had saved his life! Nothing could be further from the truth. I am almost certain that ALT-R tricked POND MUD into getting in the quicksand in the first place. And he could easily have pulled him out with a vine or brach or rope, but he made POND MUD really scared and convinced him he had to literally put his face in the mud in order to get out.”

“So….? Did you set him straight?” asked Trunk of Tree. 

“I tried to. I think many people told him the same thing. But he kept asking more people. He was looking for a certain answer — that ALT-R had saved his life. But no-one else thought so. That just made him — somehow — believe ALT-R … harder? Is that the word? As though he insisted on hanging on to this false belief. I don’t fully understand that part.”  

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The three of them began silently partaking of the delicious berries. After a time, Many Paths said, “Have you ever started to lose your balance and then the harder you try to right yourself, the more out of balance you become? It felt a little bit like that. POND MUD couldn’t help himself and when he did, he began to feel guilty — as though he were betraying his friend ALT-R to even consider whether he had been telling the truth. Ironic, eh? ALT-R was using him — abusing him really. But whenever POND MUD thought along those lines, he felt guilty so … so he was more peaceful inside to just believe the lies of ALT-R. I don’t really know, Trunk of Tree, but that is my surmise.”

“How stupid of POND MUD!” exclaimed Trunk of Tree, a trifle too loudly, it seemed to Many Paths. 

“Indeed,” answered Many Paths. “I feel sorry for him. I keep wondering what I could have said to allow him to see the truth that was staring him in the face.”

Trunk of Tree got a faraway look in his eye. “Perhaps you didn’t properly use the Rings of Empathy. Maybe…just maybe it takes actual physical strength to force insight onto someone.” 

Easy Tears frowned and tilted her head at that comment. Many Paths gave a sardonic smile. “You might be right, Trunk of Tree. I do not have such an understanding from She Who Saves Many Lives. It’s not…It’s just a ring. Well, seven of them. I use them to … connect with people; not control them. I have never tried to use them in the way that you propose.”

“Exactly! You’ve never even tried! That’s the problem with women! You and She Who Saves Many Lives aren’t using the true power of the rings! If a man had them — a man who had power in his heart and soul and body, he could make people see the truth! That’s why I think I should be leader. I would not be afraid to use the power of the rings!” 

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Many Paths reached into the crevice between her breasts and pulled on a leather thong. Out through the neck of her tunic a small leather pouch popped. “Well, let’s try your experiment then. Here. Easy Tears is enjoying those blueberries! As am I! But here, borrow the rings and see whether you can convince her they are no good.” 

“What? You can do that? You would do that? You would give me the Rings of Empathy? You’re a fool, but thank you.” He held out his hand and Many Paths plonked down the pouch into Trunk of Trees ample hand. “I’m not giving them to you. I’m lending them. Have a go.” 

Trunk of Tree could hardly believe his good fortune. He had plotted and schemed to obtain the Rings of Empathy and Many Paths had given them to him! I can get everything now. He held all the rings in his hands and begin concentrating as he intoned, “Easy Tears, you do not like the blueberries. You hate them in fact. You will give all of yours to me.” 

Easy Tears began trembling. She fell to the ground and muttered in a strange voice, “I love blueberries. Oh, no, I hate blueberries. I love them. I hate them. No, no. The power of the ring is too strong. Oh, they are burning me. The blueberries are setting me on fire. Oh, no!” She began rolling uncontrollably on the ground. 

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Many Paths could see that Easy Tears was convulsing with silent laughter.  Many Paths quickly knelt down beside her and whispered into the ear of Easy Tears “Don’t humiliate him. Break it to him gently.” 

Trunk of Tree held his hands high and shouted with joy. “You See! You see! I can harness the magic of the Rings!” 

Easy Tears was laughing so hard now that her face was wet with tears and she couldn’t catch her breath. 

Many Paths considered joining in the fun and leading on Trunk of Tree. In some fundamental way, that would be cruel. Wasn’t it just as wrong to bully Trunk of Tree with her superior insight into human nature as it would be if he used his superior strength to bully someone? Among many possibilities she considered that she wanted to sow doubt in his mind quickly but also gently. “Do you remember, Trunk of Tree, that wrestling trick you taught me when we were kids? I think you called it “willow wand”? Is that right? And the harder someone rushed at you…”

“Why are you asking about wrestling?” sneered Trunk of Tree.  Did you see how I bent her mind with these rings?! I don’t understand why you never tried it. Or, maybe you did but you’re not strong enough to make it work!”

Many Paths sighed. 

“Trunk of Tree,” she began, and noted that a hint of exasperation had crept into her voice. She tried to concentrate on what she admired about Trunk of Tree and spoke again, this time with genuine affection. “Trunk of Tree, you know what a great jokester Easy Tears is and how she has facility to fool others with play acting. Right?” 

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“What are you saying? That she faked it? That was a real curse. Look at her even now, she writhes in pain. I am sorry, Easy Tears. I didn’t know how powerful I would be with the rings.” 

“Oh, Trunk of Tree,” chuckled Easy Tears, “You went along with my play-acting splendidly! I think we may have really fooled Many Paths there for a moment! Right, Many Paths? Admit it. You thought, just for a moment that maybe they really were magic. Come on. Admit it.” 

Many Paths nodded and smiled. Easy Tears had some brilliant thoughts. This way, I can ‘take the fall’ for the joke and save Trunk of Tree’s pride, provided only he’s smart enough to play along. “You did. You did. For a moment there, you two had me going. What’s that sound? Drums. Listen. Two of our own approach. It’s Lion Slayer and Eagle Eyes! They’ve returned! Let’s go hear their tale!”

Many Paths turned and ran toward the Center Place of the Veritas, deftly snatching her pouch with the Seven Rings of Empathy out of Trunk of Tree’s hand before he could even react. Soon, Easy Tears and Trunk of Tree were running behind her, eager to hear what news they had brought. At least for now, Trunk of Tree’s thirst for power seemed to have evaporated like a morning mist under the rising sun. But winter is coming. 

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Author Page on Amazon.

The Myth of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field. 

The Orange Man.

The First Ring of Empathy. 

RIP, GOP

31 Thursday Oct 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

America, Cover-up, Democracy, Impeachment, lies, obstruction, politics, treason, truth, USA

Context: Today, after weeks of moaning and complaining that there needed to be a defined open process for impeachment, the Democrats in the House brought a motion to define an open process for impeachment. Not a single Republican voted for the motion. NOTE: This was not a vote on impeachment. It was a vote to do what the Republicans had been asking for over the last few weeks. Their obsequious partisan fawning over a treasonous, cruel, inept President signals, I think, the death of the Republican Party.

UPDATE (1/29/2021). That was the context back then, when I didn’t think the Republican Party (I was born into a Republican family) would sink any lower. But I was wrong! Now, there are Senators and Representatives who claim to be Republican, who are openly lying about the election and some of whom went so far as to incite violence against the peaceful transition of power. Many embrace absurd conspiracy theories and openly call for the death of their political rivals. They openly support White Supremacists. A new verse or two needs to be added to the dingbat dirge they drone as over the cliff they happily plummet.

UPDATE (6/25/2022). Just when you are absolutely sure that the Trumputinists — who, by the way, are the *actual* RINOS — Republicans in Name Only — but that’s where we are — just when you’re sure that the Trumputinists cannot sink any lower — that they have licked the bottom of the septic tank and made themselves beholden to and in thrall of the very worst dregs of humanity and therefore must — positively must — be now on an upward trend, you discover, nope. They can sink still lower. The 1/6 Congressional hearings reveal that it wasn’t simply that an angry mob spontaneously tried to overthrow our government and replace it with a Trumputin dick-tatership — nope, it was *planned* to happen that way. The Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers didn’t even bother to listen to Trump’s rambling hate speech. They went, as planned, straight to the Capitol for recon & waited for his angry mob to show up to breach. Then, we discover that many if not all of the Trumputinists in Congress who voted not to certify the election were in on the coup plot! Then, just when you find it hard to even think about their treason without getting nauseous, you find that Extreme Court is in on the plot to destroy America as well! Recent rulings reveal Putin’s dual agenda: Divide the Country racially, economically, and by gender and at the same time flood the country with lethal weapons. That’s what the Trumputinists in the Extreme Court are up to.

UPDATE: August 27, 2022 Just as cancer of the body is ultimately self-destructive, so too is cancer of the society — AKA Fascism AKA Nazism AKA Trumputinism and sadly, at this point AKA the GOP which has indeed become a death cult worshiping the golden calf in the form of a fat, out of shape, old, bald white guy whose grasp on reality is non-existent. Yet, the Trumputinists are too cowardly to tell the truth — that the would-be emperor has no clothes — and no leg to stand on to defend his treasonous actions in stealing — yes stealing, not removing — TOP SECRET documents and then lying about it.

close up photography of brown wasp

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RIP GOP

I know a Grand Old Party 

Who swallowed a lie. 

Now, I don’t know why 

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

I know of a Party 

Who swallowed obstruction. 

They swallowed obstruction to hide a base lie.

But I don’t know why

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

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I know an old Party 

Who’s now quite absurd, 

They got absurd to hide obstruction.

They swallowed obstruction to hide the lie.

But I don’t know why

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

I know an old Party 

That’s blind as a bat. 

Think of that! 

As blind as a bat. 

They won’t open their eyes

Because they’d see lies. 

But I can’t surmise why, 

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

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I know of a Party- 

Who says they like dogs, 

But they act more like hogs. 

They pollute the sky; 

They feed in their sty.

They swallowed the bat

(Think of that! To swallow a bat!)

To catch the absurd

Lies that they told. 

Too afraid to be bold,

They embraced the absurd

To hide the obstruction.

They swallowed obstruction to hid the lie.

But I don’t know why 

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die.  

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I know of a Party — 

It’s full of old goats.

Truth gets stuck in their throats, 

But I don’t know why, 

They’d let our earth die.

To cover the lie

That hides the obstruction 

That covers the lie?

But I don’t know why.

They swallowed that lie.

Perhaps they’ll die.

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I know an old Party 

Who once sued a cow

I don’t even know how

They once sued a cow. 

They all swore an oath

To uphold the law. 

But Barr and Mitch? They both

Said “naw, we’re now Putin’s kitsch.” 

They swallowed their treason 

The whole summer season.

They gave as the reason: 

They swallowed the goat, 

That caught in their throat. 

They swallowed that goat, 

To catch the dog.  

Why such a hog? 

To swallow a dog?

They swallowed a dog

To hide the absurd. 

They claimed the absurd

To distract from obstruction, 

They all know they heard. 

They wouldn’t vote to protect our elections.

(Too worried about their own protections?)

They didn’t vote for needed construction.

But they swallowed obstruction 

To hide the lie — 

But I don’t know why 

They swallowed the lie. 

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I know an old Party

Who swallowed a Trump. 

Now it lies in the Dump.

As still as a Lump;

As dead as a Stump. 

I know an old Party

Who lost an election.

And their teeny erection.

So they swallowed more lies

Adorned with sick flies

They brewed insurrection.

Without any reason,

They swallow his treason,

In every season.

They think a fascist state

Would help them masticate

The rotten meat of Putingate.

A party that once was grand and great.

Is now a mere degenerate.

RIP

GOP

(New Verses):

I know an old Party

Grown all fat and farty

Some love their beer and all fear the queer

They swallowed Trump’s lies

And covered their eyes

Held tight their noses

So poop on their faces

Might seem slightly less racist.

Lead Capitol tours for thug saboteurs

Said to women who get raped:

“Your vagina ain’t yours

We enslave you today!

If you’re poor or your black

We’ll place more on your back.

We cite the burners of witches

To prove you’re our bitches.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But I don’t know why

GOP wants to die.

But they’ve gotten so bad

I’m not the least sad.

Treasonous cowards and traitorous sheep

They take the knife & plunge it deep

To stupid to see that when America’s dead

With a sulfurous head

Their own will be on the same chopping block.

The Civil War that they desperately seek

Won’t destroy just liberals or those who are geek.

The death will stink the entire landscape

The young and the old and most important of all

Even fertilized eggs will finally fall.

Not even the wealthy will find an escape.

Not a reasoning being on this planet earth

Can explain the cancerous GOP birth

That kills our sweet democracy

To replace with cruel theocracy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know an old party,

Who worships a warthog

Who cares not a whit

Instead he throws CONiption fit

Wallows in infinity snit

Trashes and thrashes both this way and that

Treasonous Season with no honest reason

Trumputinists dove through the deepest of slime

And just kept going double time

Silent as sin on sedition and crime.

Perhaps they’ll die.

I know of a Party

Who swallowed obstruction.

They swallowed obstruction to hide a base lie.

But I don’t know why

They swallowed the lie.

But now they can’t die.

‘Cause they’re already dead.

In the heart and the head

Just a cancerous mass

That’s a pain in the pass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know an old party 

Who likes to like kids

In a way that’s not good

And how they should 

They hide behind lies

Pretend they don’t see

They’re proud of their party

The Party is Not-See

Nor feel nor think nor build

Kill and steal is all they do

The bill is paid by me.

The bill is paid by you.

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Author Page 

Dick-Taters

Absolute is not just a vodka

The Extreme Court

Alito and the Egg

The Originalists

The Ailing King of Agitate

Guernica

After All

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

Roar, Ocean, Roar

An Open Sore

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

Exclusive Interview with Giant Slug!

28 Monday Oct 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Democracy, Dictator, Dictatorship, Jabba the Hutt, politics, satire

Interview Transcript

Subject: Jabba the Hutt

Media:  via ansible, 

Earth Date: 28 October, 2019

Interview Time: 17:00 hours GMT.

Interviewer: (Henceforth abbreviated ‘I’). First of all, I’d like to thank you for granting me this interview. 

Jabba the Hutt: (Henceforth abbreviated ‘Jabba’). No problem.

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I: My first question is probably one you’ve anticipated. Why did you decide to run for President of the United States? 

Jabba: Well, why not? I mean, it’s a great opportunity to extend the reach of our Tatooine Crime Family to another whole planet. And, earth has — what — 7 million people I can eat or enslave. 

I: Actually, earth has 7 billion people. I don’t know whether —

Jabba: First rule of interviewing me. I am right. Always. 

I: Well, I mean, but this isn’t a debate. I just thought you might have misspoken and I was giving you a —-

Jabba: Nobody gives me anything. I took it all. If I say there are 7 million, then if the Republican Party wants me for their candidate, they’d better toe the line and say the same.

I: Moving on, why should voters vote for you when they already have an incumbent running. You know. Donald J. Trump. 

Jabba: Hah! He’s nothing. I beat him in every single category. 

I: For example? 

earth space universe globe

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Jabba: His Crime Family only spans part of one small planet. Mine is bigger. And speaking of bigger, look at my holographic image! I’m way bigger than he is in every dimension. Even though English is not my native language, I speak in complete sentences. And, I can generate 100 tweets per minute. Second, I have more gravitas that Trivial Trump as I like to call him. Fourth, I’m more ruthless. He hires people. He tells the press those hires are awesome when of course, they are his lackeys and lack relevant experience and expertise. He messes up and then he picks one of them to fire. Then, he trashes them on twitter and has his Whites Only House organ — I think you call it Fox News — trash their reputations. That’s not real leadership. A real leader, such as myself, eats the offending lackey. Then, you trash them when they have no way to fight back. He’s a lightweight. I don’t even think he weighs one ton. Not even one. 

I: Some have suggested that you shouldn’t be allowed to run because — you know — you’re not real. You’re fictional. 

Jabba: SO WHAT?! You think Trivial Trump is real? His supporters think he’s some kind of business genius even though almost all of his business ideas failed miserably. Who loses money on a casino? Casino games are mathematically designed to ensure a profit. Even the Barwagian Slum-Rats of Beta Capula Four make money on their casinos. And, they only have six neurons. His supporters think he’s brave though he was so chicken-hearted that he had his daddy bribe doctors to claim he had heel spurs. Heel spurs! What a wimp. Here is my favorite: his supporters think he’s going to fight for the American worker even though he has stiffed them over and over and over again throughout his entire career and even though he passed a tax cut for billionaires. He’s trying to cut out their medical coverage right now! No, no, I take it back. Here’s my real favorite. His supporters think he’s going to Make America Great Again. Why? Because he had it printed on hats!! Made in China by the way. No, I’m every bit as real as the Donald J. Trump his supporters fawn over. Neither of us exist. But I am way stronger, way smarter, and way more cruel. Cuter too!  

nature animal trunk leaf

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I: So, do you think he’ll take you up on your offer to have a debate among the five of you? It’s Sanford, Walsh, and Weld, right? And now you. Do you think you’ll do well in a debate?

Jabba: I will crush them all. Absolutely crush them. 

I: Can you share your strategy? What will be your main points in the debate? 

Jabba: Debate! Hah! Who wants to watch a debate? I already told you: I will crush them all. 

I: But…at least on earth, the tradition is to have a debate, not a … what…wrestling match?

Jabba: A lot of customs on earth will change once I become dictator. 

IMG_8483

I: Well, you — we don’t have dictators. We have Presidents. Their power isn’t absolute you know. 

Jabba: You’re so naive. Ever hear of Stalin, Putin, Mao, Hitler, Mussolini, Kim Yong-un… your planet has had plenty of dictators. 

I: True, but I’m talking about America. 

Jabba: So am I. I don’t know about Sandford, Walsh and Weld but Trashy Trivial Trump and I are running for dictator. He’s made that abundantly clear. And, I’m on record for it as well. And, I won’t be one of those nambly-pambly dictators either. Absolute power. My supporters will be glad to be slaves, toadies, and lackeys who’ll do exactly what they’re told. In that way, Trashy Traitorous Trivial Trump and I are alike. But I’ll be competent. He isn’t. 

I: It’s called a Presidential primary…not a Dictator primary. 

Jabba: Yeah, yeah. Sure, that’s what people call it who don’t see the truth even when it’s brightly shining before them like a giant light saber. At least I’m honest enough to come right out and say it. Make me dictator! 

I: Have you thought about who you’ll have in your cabinet? 

Jabba: Of course. Uncle Ziro will make a great Secretary of War. I’m renaming it to be more honest. None of this wimpy “Secretary of State” crap. Let’s call a spade a spade and a war machine, a war machine. Rotta will be my Secretary of Slavery. So, he’ll be overseeing the taking of slaves, the design of their training collars, etc. I like to get them when they’re about four. That’s a good age for them to learn their place. Of course, I’ll start with taking kids away from their parents who are unpopular because of race, religion, poverty etc. but I’ll end up, if all goes well with all seven million people on the planet. 

I: Actually, there are … well, never mind. Any particular policies you want to push? Trump is suing to take away health care from millions of Americans. Do you support that policy? 

Jabba: No. Absurd. Suing? Why bother. Just take away their health care. That’s the problem with Trashy Tentative Traitorous Trivial Trump. ‘Oh, look at me. I’m so mean I’m going to take away people’s health care. Oh, I’m so strong.’ What rot! I’m going to take away people’s health, not just their health care. Put most of them to work in the Asbestos mines of Aldebaran Four. That ought to do it. Life expectancy under Trashy Tentative Traitorous Trivial Truthless Trump will slide down to about 55 years but under a monster worthy of the name, people will be lucky to live to be 25 years of age. Of course, the cutest little kids will saved for something else. And, when they’ve outlived their usefulness at 15 or 16, they’ll still be tender enough to eat. 

I: Another objection I’ve heard some people raise is that you are not a natural-born US citizen. Any comment? 

flag of america

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Jabba: I was born in America. It’s Trashy Tentative Traitorous Trivial Truthless Toothless Trump who’s not a natural-born citizen. He was actually born in Trinidad. I have investigators right now digging up the truth and you’ll see. I’ll make all the info on him public at the right time. 

I: I see. And will you be releasing your tax returns. 

Jabba: Oh, yes. Very soon. Very soon. Because they will show how brilliant I am. 

I: So, by ‘very soon’, do you mean in the next few weeks? 

Jabba: What about the next few weeks? 

I: Will you release your tax returns in the next few weeks. 

Jabba: Soon. Very soon. Very, very soon. It’s hard to be more specific because of US regulations. I’m under intergalactic audit. So, we’ll see. I can’t show them till it’s over. Soon. Very soon.  

I: How do you feel about walls? 

Jabba: Walls are lame. No half-measures. Tacky Trashy Tentative Traitorous Trivial Truthless Toothless Trump wants to put a wall on some border someplace. What a small mind. I’ve got a better solution. Everyone’s collar will GPS their whereabouts at all times and if people are not where they are told to be, they will be incinerated instantly via laser cannon mounted on satellites. 

silhouette photography of man

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I: Will you be seeking any assistance from foreign nations in terms of campaign contributions or information? 

Jabba: Foreign nations? You mean other countries on earth? No. I have my allies. They’re all over the galaxy. They’ll make sure I get elected. 

I: Trump is using the Russians. I just wondered if …

Jabba: Russians smushians. I’ll use Jedi Mind Control. It’s flawless. The Russians leave digital fingerprints everywhere. Tacky Trashy Tentative Traitorous Trivial Truthless Teeny-Weeny Toothless Trump is lucky there isn’t any intelligent life on earth or he would have been impeached already! The evidence of his betrayal are a supernova of silliness. When we cheat, no-one will know. We use professionals. It’s embarrassing that he even calls himself head of a Crime Family. He’s so obvious. 

I: I see. But I thought the Jedi were the good guys. 

Jabba: Yeah. Whatever. Capture them on video doing disgusting things with 14-year olds — you’d be surprised how compliant they become to make sure that stuff doesn’t come out. Easy to entrap. But I don’t even need to turn them with blackmail. There are plenty who have turned themselves. I’ll use them first. I’ll save the blackmail for a backup. 

I: Do you think you have a realistic chance at winning the primary. Trump remains popular with his base. 

i voted sticker lot

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Jabba: Bah. I’m everything Trump is and more besides. I’m Trump writ large. He’s Jabba writ teeny. He’s small potatoes. Small turnips really. More bitter than potatoes. 

I: I can see why you might appeal to the males who are look for a strong leader, but how do you think you’ll do with the female vote? 

Jabba: They love me. Any woman who knows her proper place is being a total slave to a slimy, salacious slug will vote for me, not that hilarious Hitler with Heelspurs and Hairplugs. 

I: A big part of the job of President, or dictator for that matter, is international relations. Are you familiar with the various nations, religions, cultures, physical characteristics of various nations on earth?

Jabba: No. But neither is Putin’s Pathetic Pusillanimous Puppet. And, unlike the Mango Mussolini, I can learn. Anyway, it’s all temporary. All of earth’s nations, religions, cultures, and physical characteristics are going to change radically once I’m in charge. Oh! I have to go. I’ve got a chanting engagement with a large crowd in Hell, Michigan. 

I: Thanks again for the interview. Good luck in the primary. 


https://www.starwars.com/databank/jabba-the-hutt

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

 

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