• About PeterSIronwood

petersironwood

~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

petersironwood

Tag Archives: cruelty

Myths of the Veritas: Killing Sticks

25 Wednesday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, story, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bullying, cruelty, depression, Dictatorship, fascism, guns, Justice, leadership, legends, myths, photography, technology, truth, Veritas

The pain in Lion Slayer’s arm came in waves. He neither whimpered nor cried aloud, but even in the fading light, Eagle Eyes could see the flashes of pain playing across his face like heat lightening. She put her fingers to her lips to signal quiet. Then, she took her fingers and pushed four fingernails into his shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt a little. At the same time, his excruciating burn pain disappeared. She continued the pressure for some minutes and then released it. Lion Slayer braced himself for the pain, but it didn’t come. He looked in her eyes and bowed his head slightly, silently mouthing his thanks. 

reflection of clouds on body of water

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

When Eagle Eyes reckoned that most of the straggling band of the People Who Steal Children would probably be asleep, she whispered that they should try to move closer to the camp but not so close as to be seen. Slowly, they crawled through the grass, eager, if at all possible to overhear any who might be talking near the campfire, though neither of them spoke the language. Nonetheless, she hoped to glean something from the pacing and the mood. Their efforts were frustrated however. These people had no common evening campfire or discussion. People mumbled here and there but no real conversations took place; at least, none that they overheard. 

Before first light, they receded though a zig-zag path so as not to be discovered with the dawn, which arose in brilliant red. The pain had returned to Lion Slayer’s arm and Eagle Eyes again relieved it with her magic touch. 

For three days and three nights, they followed the People Who Steal Children, each night sneaking a little more closely and each day receding, but not quite so much. It seemed to Eagle Eyes that the People Who Steal Children not only lack all skill at covering their trail but also in seeing one. 

IMG_9471

Each night they also made a farther retreat once the traveling band had gone to sleep. Here they were far enough a way to speak in normal quiet voices, and it was in these quiet normal voices that each day they argued about whether to go back or keep tracking the Children Stealers. Neither was “wedded” to a particular position; each contributed pros and cons equally as they thought of them. Their dialogues often wandered into observations of the Children Stealers. 

Eagle Eyes had just wondered aloud whether the rest of the tribe might either take them for dead or send out a larger search party for them. 

Lion Slayer said, “But what about the eagle?” 

Eagle Eyes replied, “Yes, I hope he takes the message back to the center place, but we don’t really have enough experience to know how likely that is. The hope itself makes me happy though. The tribe might also surmise that we might be injured … have you heard any of the Children Stealers cry?”

86A389C7-4CD7-42E3-ABFA-A555A5BB24CB

“Why would they cry, Eagle Eyes? Oh, I see. Yes, of course. They just lost their village. And some of their warriors died. They lost their horses, though I know not how much they might care about that. No, I heard no cries.”

Eagle Eyes nodded. “Nor I. And by the way, I would expect that some suffer not just emotional pain but some are likely badly burned as are you.”

Lion Slayer sighed. “It isn’t just crying though. I haven’t heard a really sad voice or happy voice among them. It may seem crazy, but in my tribe, even in the face of great tragedy, the children playing among themselves sometimes find occasion to laugh and sing.” 

Eagle Eyes furrowed her brow. “Why are they doing any of it? If there is no … no feeling? No … experience?” 

“Indeed, Eyes of the Eagle, it seems no life. But perhaps this is how they react to pain and tragedy.” 

1916207E-AB02-49E6-8BA8-2DD6B5FBBBAE

The next day, they tracked the People Who Steal Horses to the largest village any of them had ever seen. There were so many people milling around what appeared to be a gate in a wall, it was hard to comprehend. Their cover had become nearly non-existent. They decided to attempt to reconnoiter the perimeter both to see the extent of the village and look for another way in that might enable them to enter unseen. They waited until twilight and then began their explorations far enough into cover so as not to be seen. Every so often, however, Eagle Eyes would creep forward toward the wall, looking for a way in. 

About half-way around what appeared to be a largely circular wall round the city, Eagle Eyes spotted a postern gate beyond a small trellis maze. It was evening and the light was fading fast. They appeared to have entered an anteroom to some sort of ceremonial chamber. They could see into the brightly lit ceremonial room through a fine wooden lattice, but judged they could not be seen provided they stayed far away from the screen and stay silent. 

76FA50AD-5BEC-44D4-B353-D8CCC66FECD2

One man sat on a large chair set atop a large platform of polished wood. In front of that man, three men knelt on what seemed to be sharp stones. The one on the throne sounded both sly and angry. He gesticulated at the three and then snapped his fingers. At this juncture, one of his guards brought a strange spear over to the man in charge. The man in charge, toyed with the spear and then pointed it at one of the three men kneeling. 

A deafening noise followed and the kneeling man screamed and crumpled. Blood began to flow freely onto the gravel. Yet, the spear had not left the hand of the man in charge. Nor, so far as Eagle Eyes could tell, had the spear touched the man. What strong and strange magic is this, she wondered. 

Another of the kneeling men now seemed clearly begging for his life. He kept saying “Nut-Pi! Nut-Pi!” Apparently that was the name of the man in charge who pointed his magic spear at the begging, cringing man who put up his hands to protect himself. The magic spear made another thunderous noise and this man fell back and soon blood pooled around his body. And yet, Eagle Eyes once again did not see any thrust or throw of the spear. 

The man in charge, possibly named NUT-PI, then seemed to speak to the man remaining alive, whom he called, “BRA-BRILL.” This man BRA-BRILL begged for mercy but to no avail. Yet again, NUT-PI pointed his magic spear and BRA-BRILL screamed and fell. Unlike the others, he did not so quickly fall silent. It appeared that the magic this time had not killed him outright but only severely wounded him. 

BRA-BRILL clutched his thigh and soon his hands were covered in blood. He began crawling away on the sharp gravel. NUT-PI began laughing and sauntered after him. He pointed the magic spear at BRA-BRILL and another loud report was followed by a scream of pain. BRA-BRILL now crawled with his elbows, both of his legs trailing uselessly behind him. NUT-PI only laughed even more raucously. He came up behind BRA-BRILL and pointed the magic spear at one of NUT-PI’s shoulders. That too became injured. NUT-PI now began to jump on the injured parts of BRA-BRILL, each time eliciting a fresh, inhuman wail. 

Wordlessly, Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer sidled back outside. Eagle Eyes peered out into the area beyond the postern gate. She crouched stock still for some moments, looking for a sign of movement. She neither heard, nor smelled, nor sensed anything untoward. She crept out and she and Lion Slayer quickly headed for the nearest cover. Their quest to circumvent the whole wall was abandoned. It only took one look into each others eyes to know that they both agreed. The knowledge of this magic killing stick had to be shared with all the people as soon as possible.

7E245EB8-0234-4F00-8B84-65510B2F255D

 ————————————————

The Beginning of Book One, The Myths of the Veritas 

The Beginning of Book Two, The Myths of the Veritas

Introduction to a Pattern Language for Collaboration 

The Pros and Cons of AI

Author Page on Amazon  

Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing

The Impossible

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

You Know

Wednesday

What About the Butter Dish?

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

The Stopping Rule

The Update Issue

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

 

BRA-BRILL’s Audience with NUT-PI

11 Wednesday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cruelty, cursing, fantasy, fiction, free, greed, leadership, legend, myth, power, religion, ROI, story, Veritas, writing

{Translator’s Note}: Among the ROI, the Z-LOTZ and the Veritas, swear words, as best we can tell, refer to religion, excretion or procreation. At least among the tribes that I’ve studied, no-one swears by referring to ingestion, coagulation, thinking, moving muscles, or other functional aspects of life. However, it appears that the different tribes varied in their preferred choice of swear words; I will not bother to translate these directly into their English counterparts; instead, I’ll use a more “polite” word but you will know doubt be able to tell what was really meant. These tribes all seemed to have shared another odd trait. They actually used both crude and polite forms of cursing. It was considered more powerful and more satisfying to use the “polite” forms. It showed, so the reasoning went, that you were fully aware of the fact that you were cursing; that you were still in charge of your faculties.

F31160D7-CE1D-4F66-BA65-1808CC617B3F

One of BRA-BRILL’s lieutenants rushed up to BRA-BRILL. “Sire, we must slow down a bit. The women and children are having trouble keeping up. There may be further Veritas about who would capture our women and children for their own purposes. For that matter, so might the wolves. Might we take a short break so everyone can catch up?” 

BRA-BRILL turned his lifeless eyes to his lieutenant. “Oh, thank you so much my fine lieutenant for bringing this to my attention! I did not realize that there were Veritas about. I did not realize that our entire procreating village has been destroyed! Thank a diety we have brilliant people about such as you to set me straight! You are nearly as valuable as an obstruction to a defecation! Come here. Come closer. Attaboy! Now, hand me your sword, you diety-forsaken ever-procreating excretion. Come on. Do it.”

IMG_3459

The soldier realized he should have sent one of his own lackeys to make a suggestion. What the hell had he been thinking, making a suggestion himself? Maybe it was the shock of being awakened to an alarm and soon after being caught in a forest fire. Still…

BRA-BRILL took the sword and smiled, “Thank you. This is indeed a fine blade.” BRA-BRILL turned it in his hand and made a couple of sweeps with the sword through the air. “A fine weapon.” Suddenly, BRA-BRILL twirled the blade and struck the messenger across his thigh causing a substantial gash. The soldier fell heavily to the ground. 

“Oops. My hand slipped. No matter. Now, you can serve some useful purpose. You there! And you! Come take this wounded soldier and tie him fast to yonder tree. Make sure he cannot escape. He will draw any wolves or lions off our trail and perhaps the Veritas may find him and torture him for some truth. Well, come to think of it, best to cut out his tongue as well.”

IMG_3484

The soldier lay on the ground with his hand pressed to his thigh, trying to slow the escaping rivulet of blood. “NO, SIRE! No, please!”  

BRA-BRILL loved it when he had a chance to mock others.  In a fair imitation of a small child’s squeaky voice, he repeated, “No, sire. No, please!” 

“You disgust me, bodily function, now go serve some useful purpose. I’m just following your advice, after all.” With this, he curtly motioned to the two guards to take him away and cut out his tongue. As the bleeding soldier was carried off to be set as wolf bait, he turned to see some of his people had stopped and stared. “Get back to marching! ALL of you! Unless you procreating anatomy-parts want to join procreating visage as procreating wolf bait!” 

IMG_3478

BRA-BRILL’s mood had improved considerably after this incident, but he knew that tough times lay ahead. NUT-PI was every bit as … focused … as he himself was. The truth was that BRA-BRILL was about to stop anyway, not so others could catch up but because he was exhausted. All the fine food he had had access to as well as the servants that did his bidding meant that he was now considerably overweight and walking any distance tired him quickly. “Procreating horses!” he muttered to no-one in particular. “How the mythical and horrid afterlife did all those procreating horses get away? Procreate!!” 

BRA-BRILL liked swearing. It made him feel powerful. In this case, though, he had another purpose. He wanted to be all “sworn out” by the time they reached the city of the Z-LOTZ. They were all an odd lot and some of them objected to a person simply expressing themselves in the most natural way. He didn’t need that kind of trouble. He strongly suspected that NUT-PI believed none of the malarkey that the Z-LOTZ believed, or at least professed to believe. But that didn’t mean some jealous priest or other wouldn’t call BRA-BRILL out if he used profanity within the walls of their “Sacred City.” 

“Sacred City. Hah!” BRA-BRILL sneered aloud at the idea. Just more horse manure for the weak-minded, he mused. “You there! Yes, YOU! Bring me some meat and bread and wine.” 

IMG_3240

The hapless youth who had been pointed at was not sure who, if anyone, had brought such provisions. This was not, after all, a planned and organized march. Usually, the ROI would have spent weeks planning a trip to see the Z-LOTZ. He had just witnessed the wrath of BRA-BRILL when irked. He would try to find something pleasing among the people and if he failed, he would sneak away into the woods and try his luck with the wolves rather than risk displeasing BRA-BRILL. “Yes, sire! I’ll be back soon!” He scampered off and began querying the ROI about provisions, making sure everyone knew that they were not for him but for their leader. 

—————————————————-

A few day’s march brought the numerous throng of ROI to the city gates of the Z-LOTZ. They were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, but all were ordered to remain outside. Word came that NUT-PI would see BRA-BRILL who must arrive unarmed and alone. When BRA-BRILL heard this, he began to sweat. He carefully slowed his breathing, but his bone dry mouth still tasted of metal. He muttered under his breath, “Procreating waste!” There was little for it though. He would have to comply. Though he had taken much more than his “fair share” of the provisions found among the ROI, he also felt hunger and thirst. So, he thrust his new sword into the ground and marched off to see NUT-PI, surrounded by four guards. Each sported a long pike and wore leather armor studded with metal. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Soon, he stood in a courtyard before NUT-PI who sat upon a high chair. He tried to lick his lips and took a deep breath. “Well met, oh great NUT-PI! I bring you…” 

“Silence,” NUT-PI said in little more than a bored whisper. “Speak to me again before I give you leave to do so and I will cut out your tongue as you did with your lieutenant.” 

BRA-BRILL almost spoke again. Instead, he slammed his mouth shut, wondering how the painful afterlife NUT-PI found out about the lieutenant. 

Again NUT-PI spoke softly. He hissed as he spoke, almost like a snake. “Come forward now and kneel before me.” 

BRA-BRILL shambled forward and knelt in the sharp gravel in front of NUT-PI. NUT-PI regarded him coldly with unlit eyes. “Did you bring the required number of women and children as slaves?” 

BRA-BRILL tried to swallow but couldn’t. “Close but also vital information, Sire.” 

“Close?” NUT-PI snickered. “I asked you a simple question. Surely, even you have the intelligence to answer my question. I will say it slowly for you. Did. You. Bring. The. Required. Number. Of. Women. And. Children. As. Slaves? Yes or no?” 

PicturesfromiPhone2 033

BRA-BRILL tried to think but found it difficult when his knees hurt and his mouth was so dry. He decided that trying to be clever would be too risky. “No, Sire.” 

“So you failed in the only task I asked you to accomplish. Is that right? You failed. Did you fail?” 

“Yes, Sire. I failed.” BRA-BRILL looked down. He began to fantasize about cutting NUT-PI to pieces but shook it out of his mind. 

NUT-PI smiled. “Well, it’s not your fault, after all. You have no real ability, do you?” 

BRA-BRILL gritted his teeth together. “No, Sire. I do not.” 

NUT-PI continued. “No, you do not. And now, not only have you failed to bring me the required number of slaves. You have allowed your village to be burned down. And, now you bring your entire people here…for what purpose? I suspect you wish to beg for food and water for them?” 

BRA-BRILL saw a possible opening and decided to chance taking it. “Oh, Sire, no. It is true that we are hungry and thirsty but we ask for none of that. What we can do is offer up valuable information about a tribe that call themselves The Veritas. They came in great hordes to attack our village and burn it down. They destroyed many of our weapons and stole our horses as well. But we come to offer to help you hunt them down and destroy them. If you will accept our humble gift.” 

NUT-PI sneered at BRA-BRILL with open contempt. NUT-PI began to drum his fingers on the arm of his large chair. He was in no hurry. After all, NUT-PI was not the one kneeling in sharp gravel. He gestured to one of his slaves and she brought over some grapes and bread. NUT-PI began slowly and sensually taking tiny bites of the food. He arranged his face into a large smile as he ate, chewing each bite over and over. 

BRA-BRILL saw the world shrink and grow dark. Just as he was about to pass out, NUT-PI spoke again. “Guards, take this pathetic man back to his people, such as they are. Bring me the inadequate number of slaves here for me to take first picks. I will see whether any are capable of pleasing me. If there are, I will consider his entreaty for food and water. If not, well, if not, just take the slaves and use the rest of the ROI for target practice.” 

IMG_5652

BRA-BRILL tried to rise on his own, but he couldn’t make his legs move properly. He put his hands on the ground and pushed off with his hands, staggering to his feet. He was marched out of the presence of NUT-PI. 

BRA-BRILL felt as though he had won a great victory. After all, he had escaped with his life, at least for now. He would find a way to oust NUT-PI and make him pay! He swore to himself that he would do that no matter what it took. For now, he would have to play a waiting game. 

The guards unceremoniously threw BRA-BRILL to the ground and began rounding up the slaves to be taken before NUT-PI. Preparing slaves provided one of the most fun aspects of their jobs. They would oversee the cleaning and dressing of the slaves. Occasionally, they were rewarded with one to share. 

IMG_3124

Author Page on Amazon. 

The Orange Man

Orange Marmalade

The Mango Mussolini

At Least He’s Our Monster

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chips

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Peace

Who Won the War?

The Ailing King of Agitate

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Post Fire Blues

09 Monday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, management, psychology, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cruelty, fantasy, fiction, forest fire, greed, innovation, leadership, legends, myth, narrative, rescue, ROI, search, short story, story, truth, Veritas, writing

BRILL-BRA was beside himself with rage. It became clear that his entire village would be destroyed. Damned Veritas, he thought, I will destroy every last one of them if it’s my last act on earth. People were in such a panic to grab their possessions and leave, many of his subjects were ignoring him. Him! A handful of soldiers helped him gather together the few children and quickly the small band headed out for the land of the Z-LOTZ. BRILL-BRA saw little choice but to throw his lot in with the Z-LOTZ. This carried its own risks because, even with the three young daughters of L-SIDNEY, he still fell short by two of the promised number of child slaves he was supposed to deliver before the next full moon. But BRILL-BRA had grown obese and soft. He had no desire to wander aimlessly and try to live off the land. Perhaps he could even find a way to overthrow NUT-PI and lead the numerous and obedient Z-LOTZ. 

IMG_2898

BRILL-BRA and his band of warriors and their captive children soon reached the lands they called, “The Dead Zone.” Almost nothing grew here. Ordinarily, the ROI avoided the place (as did all the tribes), but the shortest path to the cities of the Z-LOTZ lay through it. The days when BRILL-BRA enjoyed a long hike for the pleasure of it were long past. In this land of dirt and scattered rocks, falling sparks found nothing to feed on. While the Z-LOTZ believed “The Dead Zone” to be populated with the ghosts of long-dead ancestors, BRILL-BRA considered such superstition pure absurdity. He thought it most likely that such stories were concocted long ago to scare the children of the Z-LOTZ into submission. But, maybe the leaders believed all that bull crap. BRILL-BRA didn’t know and he didn’t care. He trudged on in a foul mood. He never even got a chance to torture L-SIDNEY. He began to curse loudly as he walked. They were barely two miles beyond the outskirts of their burning village when he ordered everyone to stop and rest. 

IMG_5417

He ordered one of his lackeys to bring one of the girls over to him. “Keep her hands tied behind her. I don’t trust her.” Soon it was done and the girl stood before him. BRILL-BRA considered that a little pleasuring from her would improve his mood and let him plot out his next moves. But what the hell was this? She was crying! “STOP CRYING!” he screamed, “or I will give you something to cry about! Why the hell are you crying?” 

The girl shivered in fear, and her voice was choked, but she managed a weak, tremulous reply. “I don’t know where Daddy is. Our whole village has been burned up. Why are you not crying, oh great leader?” 

Though these words were spoken in hardly more than a hoarse whisper, others had heard it. BRILL-BRA became flustered and embarrassed. “Because I am a man and men don’t cry. They build things and fix things. But you are beyond fixing!” He planted his foot in her belly and shoved her backwards. She fell back heavily and screamed in pain as she fell spraining her wrist which was trapped under her. Her head grazed a sharp rock and blood began to flow from her ear onto her disheveled ringlets. “Oh, CRAP!” screamed BRA-BRILL. NUT-PI always wanted the children delivered as tribute to be clean and uninjured so that he and he alone would be responsible for their various disfigurations and injuries. 

BRILL-BRA yelled at one of his soldiers to “Stop the bleeding and clean this one up. Bring me another. And make sure she’s got a nice smile on her face and is not blubbering like a child!” 

A thought flashed through the soldier’s mind: But she is a child. Naturally, he did not utter this aloud. He dutifully did as ordered. Soon, a still younger child was forced to kneel before BRILL-BRA. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

—————————————-

Tu-Swift raced downhill to escape the attacking flames. The thick smoke choked him and the air itself seemed to lack its very essence. He could not hear his comrades above the crackling of the fire nor see any sign of them. Suddenly, his foot landed wrong and he heard and felt a snapping within himself even above the roar of the raging fire. He heard a scream and landed hard on his stomach. He tried to breathe but couldn’t. Still the flames pursued him and he managed to rise to his hands and knees. He couldn’t stand upright. Something was wrong with his right leg. He scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of a stream and then into it. On the far side, he saw a large cliff coming right down to the water’s edge. He scrambled toward it. The cliff rock had split and he slipped into the large crack. He thought this would be as protected a space as he could find in his current condition. Surrounded by rock, scraped and scratched, he lay sideways in the cleft. Tu-Swift looked up at a sliver of blue sky above him. Tu-Swift wondered idly why the sky was blue now instead of black with smoke. He wondered who had screamed. He lost consciousness and began a tortured dream.  

broken wood on black background

Photo by Orlando Allo on Pexels.com

————————————————-

Thanks to the translations of Salah Hudah, the remaining members of the Veritas rescue party discovered that Day-Nah did indeed belong to the Nomads of the South. A trading caravan had been attacked by those who steal children and many warriors had been killed on both sides. Day-Nah had been banged on the head and when he awoke, he was bouncing around on the back of a horse. He never saw his older sister nor his mother again. Soon after he awoke, he was shoved into a small wooden jail with Tu-Swift. Day-Nah related their days together and that Tu-Swift had sabotaged the bows and arrows of the people who stand atop horses and also contrived to set the horses free. He had no knowledge of what had happened to any of their missing party. 

They spent another day searching for their missing compatriots again signaling by clacking sticks together and through coded bird calls but there were no answering calls and no drumbeats. The fire had destroyed all hope of their normal tracking methods. Even the wolf cubs proved to be unhelpful. The fire had apparently destroyed the scents of the missing, or perhaps simply overlain it with the smell of so much death and destruction that it obscured the odor of mere humans. 

photo of pile of burning wood

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Shadow Walker dreaded returning to the Veritas without Tu-Swift and with two more of their number missing. It seemed most likely that their friends had all died in the fire. It was also possible that all three or some of them had been captured by the ROI though they had not seen any of the ROI warriors, if that’s what they were, headed in their direction. Rather, when last seen, they were running back toward the ROI Village. Once there, they might have joined up with a much greater force and would now be marching out to find them and probably to continue on to the center place of the Veritas where they might wreak more death and destruction. 

They had important information about these people who sit astride horses, these stealers of children. This information must be shared with the tribe. They must help the Veritas prepare for another attack. From Day-Nah’s story, it seemed clear that stealing children might be a way of life for these people. Many Paths needed to consult with everyone about choosing what to do about child stealers living so near them. When Shadow Walker thought of Many Paths a great gray sadness weighed upon his heart. Could he tell her that Tu-Swift had disappeared? What might her response be? He wondered whether she would now hate him forever and indeed, whether he could forgive himself. But the area of destruction was so vast that they could search for weeks without finding the remains of Tu-Swift and the others. Meanwhile, the people who steal children might be mounting a giant attack on the Veritas. If that were the case, it would be important that all of the Veritas learn as much as possible about these people who steal children. 

Shadow Walker wished that he could discuss matters with Many Paths, or with She Who Saves Many Lives. He toyed with one of the rings of empathy, turning it this way and that in his hand. Somehow, he found comfort in knowing that Many Paths had such a ring as well. The substance of the ring reminded him of something. That something tickled at the edges of his mind. “The door!” he suddenly spoke aloud. That mysterious substance had been a cousin to this but much colder and much harder. For some reason he could not explain, this insight gave him confidence. He proposed that he would stay here alone and continue to search for their missing companions while the others returned with the news. He proposed to keep the wolf pups with him to aid in his searches. Perhaps once the stench of the burned grasses and trees subsided, the pups would be able to catch a scent. He would only slow them down if pursued on their journey home but hobbling slowly might be an actual advantage in searching for the missing trio.  

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

And so it was that at the next dawning, Fleet-of-Foot, Hudah Salah, Day-Nah, and Easy Tears ate what would perhaps be their last meal with Shadow Walker and began their trek back to the homeland of the Veritas. Their hearts were filled with important information but also with heavy news about their friends. Shadow Walker watched the ever-diminishing image of his companions disappearing over the blackened hilltop. He would not see them for a time that might grow to forever. 

He once again took out one of the Rings of Empathy and rolled it in his palm. He recalled a talk that he had had with Many Paths. She had jokingly told him how She Who Saves Many Lives, despite her aged body, could sneak up on someone unawares. According to Many Paths, She Who Saves Many Lives had laughed and explained how she managed the trick and Shadow Walker determined that he too could learn such a trick.

praying mantes

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

He decided that he would carefully examine the area around the creek for signs of the missing three. He would contrive to become even more skillful at the art of Shadow Walking. He would, as had been suggested by She Who Saves Many Lives, move only when the wind moved. He would make himself smell of the forest or the plains. He would advance from shadow to shadow in the unpredictable and random way of life itself. He would watch the comings and goings of the people in the village so that he would appear to be one among them. In this way, he thought to sneak unseen, unheard, and unknown back into the village of the people who steal children. If found, he would release Tu-Swift again. One way or another, in his next meeting with Many Paths, he would bring her certain, if unpleasant, news. Or, he would never meet her again in this life. He might instead die trying to find the missing brother of Many Paths. 

—————————————————————-

The Myth of the Orange Man

The First Ring of Empathy (Start of Book 1 of the Myths of the Veritas)

The Start of Book 2 of the Myths of the Veritas

Author Page on Amazon. 

It was in his nature

The Crows and Me

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

After All

Guernica

At Least he’s Our Monster

All we Stand to Lose

Somewhere a Bird Cries

How Beautiful and Green

You Must Remember This

The Impossible

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

The Power of the Unbrella

Myths of the Veritas: Battle Plans

28 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

betrayal, books, cruelty, dialogue, empathy, fiction, greed, life, myths, politics, psychology, story, truth, Veritas, war, writing

IMG_2522

As POND MUD and ALT-R quickly discovered, hanging upside down soon produces a mind-numbing headache. Even the clever mind of ALT-R found it extremely difficult to concentrate. He needed a plan to convince this new leader of the Cupiditas not to kill him but instead to keep him alive until they conquered the Veritas. Of course, he also wanted to convince NUT-PI that he, being a Veritas native, should be made the under-King, the slave-driver, of the remaining Veritas. Keeping a line of thought from falling apart under the pain proved difficult. The required concentration at least kept him from focusing on the many small and large indignities he was forced to endure at the hands of the Cupiditas. Since their society was coordinated through anger and cruelty and power rather than cooperation and deliberation and common purpose, the chance to wreak indignities on others is something in which most of them found great glee. Luckily for ALT-R, POND MUD soon became their favorite target. Initially, this was mainly because he looked (and was) much better built and stronger than ALT-R. In addition, POND MUD was much more reactive and impulsive than ALT-R. Every time POND MUD strived with all his might to break free of his bonds, it encouraged the Cupiditas to even greater cruelty. 

On the morrow, NUT-PI ordered the two cut down. They were brought, with hands tied behind them, still naked, to his cabin and again forced to kneel on the cruel gravel for their audience. 

close up dry gravel grey

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“I have decided not to kill you. At least not yet. Indeed, we will use your knowledge to conquer and enslave the Veritas. If we prove successful and you two prove sufficiently useful in this endeavor, we will indeed set you atop the Veritas to have absolute power to do as you will excepting only that I, naturally, will rule over you two. Which of the two of you is of higher rank I leave for you to sort for yourselves. It seems that for now, we will have to trust each other. Now, go forth and discover these guard locations for yourselves. Come back here as soon as you know so you can guide us in our battle of conquest. Go and clean yourselves and then your clothes will be returned. You may break your fast with us and then make haste with your reconnaissance. I need hardly remind you that if this is a trick of the Veritas and you double cross me, you will killed in ways that are so painful that you will look back fondly on last night.” 

After getting cleaned, dressed, and fed, and listening to NUT-PI’s speech, the pair was sent off. NUT-PI made it clear that they were not to be further mistreated but were going to help the Cupiditas conquer the Veritas once and for all. According to the narrative that NUT-PI spun, he had convinced these two that they had better cooperate in defeating the Veritas or face dire and painful consequences. This irked ALT-R because he was given no credit for volunteering to do this. It was his idea, not NUT-PI’s. But, he reckoned, this was a small price to pay for becoming overlord of the tribe and avenging his banishment. POND MUD, for his part, only cared that he was no longer suffering pain and humiliation. He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. 

When ALT-R and POND MUD were well out of earshot of the Cupiditas (or so they believed), and well before approaching the lands of the Veritas, POND MUD began complaining to ALT-R about the disastrous and humiliating treatment they had received at the hands of NUT-PI. 

IMG_5092

“You say you’re so smart! You said we’d be welcomed! You didn’t even know anything about NUT-PI! That was horrible! You…”

“Stop, POND MUD. Stop. Yeah, things were a bit different that we expected, but we still got what we came for! You are going to get all the women of the Veritas that you want. Keep that in mind!” 

“Well, okay, but still. I still have a headache! But it’s a good torture to remember. And, I don’t trust NUT-PI. Not at all!” complained POND MUD. 

“Nor I! I don’t trust him either, POND MUD. But think about it. We will be the overlords and slave drivers of the Veritas. Even if half the Veritas are killed in battle, they will still be much more numerous than the Cupiditas. When the time, is right, we will kill NUT-PI and you and I will rule both tribes. The remaining Veritas will be happy to avenge the Cupiditas under our leadership. We’ll just lead a strike force. We’ll pretend we’re bringing some slaves to work for the Cupiditas and they will secretly be there to assassinate NUT-PI.”

“Really?” asked POND MUD. “Oh, that might be better. I don’t like NUT-PI much at all. Not after what he put us through.” 

ALT-R had doubts that the plan he had just invented and outlined would actually work. But he did plan to depose NUT-PI. ALT-R also hated him. He would have plenty of time to work out a foolproof assassination plan later; for now, his goal was simply to keep POND MUD in line. 

They walked on in silence for a time. Then, POND MUD began to complain again. “And, why didn’t KAVA NUT come and get us! He was supposed to be on the lookout!”

ALT-R shook his head. “No doubt, he was POND MUD. He did the right thing. What would you have had him do? Come into their camp with everyone watching and take on the whole of the Cupiditas to free us? That would have ruined the whole deal and all three of us would be dead by now.”

“Well, okay, but he still owes us. We vouched for him. It’s not our fault no-one believed us when he tried to rape Eagle Eyes. I don’t know why…anyway, he still owes us.”

ALT-R again wondered why he had not somehow found a smarter companion. Ideal would be someone he could still outsmart but not quite so dense as POND MUD. Anyway, I am on the path I am on, he thought. 

“Yes, he does,” continued ALT-R. “And, he’ll owe us still more after we take over. Because this time, we will make sure he has Eyes-of-Eagle just as you shall have She-of-Many-Paths and anyone else you desire.” 

IMG_9203

Soon, they met up with KAVA-NUT. “Remember, we need to find out the guard post positions and not be seen ourselves. That is of the highest importance. Stay away from the Veritas. We’ll meet back here in two day’s time. While we wait for dark, KAVA-NUT, let me recount to you what I learned about the Cupiditas. Then, the three of us must pool our knowledge to understand likely paths and positions that will allow us to find the guard positions. We must walk as quietly as a butterfly finds its way among the flowers.”

All afternoon they planned their reconnaissance missions. POND MUD was to discover guard positions deep in the forest. ALT-R considered POND MUD to have the least chance of being found out if he stayed in the forest, far from most of the Veritas. KAVA-NUT was to determine guard positions in the field of broken rocks that abutted the forest to the north. ALT-R would do the same for that part of the forest nearest the Lake of Reeds. 

Just before the sun began to set, they set out in three different directions. They planned to meet again and combine their knowledge at dawn and then plan out another night’s mission before heading back to the Cupiditas with their knowledge. 

During this time, several of the initiates among the Veritas who had begun vying for the Rings of Empathy came to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives to say that they felt something was wrong, but they could not say exactly what.  After the last such, She Who Saves Many Lives called all of them all together for she too had felt that things were somehow “off” as though a great storm was coming, though the sky was clear, or as though the earth might be about to rearrange itself, though she felt no tremors. 

IMG_9138

Under the gentle leadership of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, they engaged in Dialogue. At one point they began to contemplate the pros and cons of habits and decided to change the way that lookouts are arranged as well as the locations. Instead of getting the very best vantage points, they decided they would suggest posting extra guards at vantage points for seeing those best vantage points. They reckoned that POND MUD, ALT-R, and KAVA-NUT might want to wreak revenge. It was well-known among the Veritas, that those falsely accused never exhibit quite so much rage as those rightly accused. Among the Veritas, such false displays of outrageous anger were called something best translated as “emotional diarrhea.” Such had been exhibited in the lengthy council that eventually banished the three of them. Only ALT-R remained calm while both POND MUD and KAVA-NUT screamed and yelled that they were innocent. 

During the Dialog, other observations were made about diversity of life, the value of habits, but also as to the vulnerability of habits. People such as POND MUD, KAVA-NUT and ALT-R, it was pointed out, are generally impatient. Also, they tend to look only at the surface of things rather than beyond to the substance. They discussed butterflies that look to have big eyes so that birds fear a poisonous snake. They concluded to invite the counsel of the one who is so good at surface, Fleet-of-Foot, to help them camouflage. At one point, knowing well the hearts of those three who were banished, they concluded that POND MUD and ALT-R and KAVA-NUT may attack soon.

Yet, several spoke that such an attack would be sure to fail since they were three and the Veritas were many. Being so few, they begin to wonder how they could possibly attack. They reckoned that they must have allies of some kind, whether bird, beast, plant, or a natural disaster like a fire or storm. They recalled the myth of the Orange Man who destroyed a whole people, as well as his own life, by making careless use of fire in a windstorm. 

night fire flame fire pit

Photo by Bob Clark on Pexels.com

They considered the nearby tribes. Could the three be in league with the fierce hunters to the north? But, they reminded each other that such hunters as these have always managed their own affairs. The desert travelers could pose another risk. But it was reasoned that they were too nomadic. She-of-Many-Paths suggested the nearby Cupiditas. But it was pointed out that they were too few. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives agreed that they were too few for a pitched battle, but she pointed out that the Banished Three have inside information on how the Veritas operate. Knowing such, The Banished Three could think to prevail. 

“ALT-R,” the shaman continued, “is our deepest enemy for he is very smart yet even he, like all, working alone, has blind spots. He failed to find the acorns so well as the possum,” explained She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, “because unlike his cousin, the possum, ALT-R came looking for rules that would allow him every single acorn and as a result obtained fewer. He promised me that he would learn from this, but I remain skeptical. He might have learned, but he may still assume that everything is far more orderly and predictable than it truly is. This is because underneath it all, he has overwhelming greed which makes him believe utterly that he deserves everything for himself. His bonds of friendship only last so long as he sees it as worthwhile. POND MUD and KAVA-NUT are the same. They could use inside knowledge to find how to attack us, but not if we keep changing our tactics and strategy. This will require the utmost of trust and empathy and good communication. Yet, such communication must remain hidden from The Banished Three.” 

Dialogue continued, “If only we could fly like bird,” said Eyes-of-Eagle. “Or, swing from vines? Though this is too risky and too overt.”

Trunk-of-Tree suggested, “We may scare birds with stones to thus reveal false positions. Would our cousins the birds object to using them thus for such a purpose?”

Shadow-Walker added, “But vines could be wound around the upper branches of many trees looking thus much like ordinary trees. Many such could be tugged this way and that to show the movement and direction of incoming enemies. Enemies may not always be human. As we said, in the Myth of the Orange Man, he started fires so that the people would flee leaving him free to loot all their possessions. Instead, his own greed caused his death and so many innocents as well. Surely, even ALT-R would not set a fire to kill everything. We do not know what kind of enemy we are facing so we must prepare for many such enemies.”

“There may be another way,” said She-Of-Many-Paths. “If any of the three are spotted, let me talk to them and see into their hearts.”

“That is very dangerous,” cautioned Shadow-Walker. 

“Yes it is,” admitted She-of-Many-Paths. “Yet, we may gain much information. Let us decide how to arrange it so that you and Trunk of Tree and Eagle Eyes are nearby.” 

“Why not just capture one of them alone and apply pain until their plans are revealed?” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives said, “That may work, but such torturing may change us as well and turn us into something we do not wish to become. Often, people with plans that they think clever plans may reveal them if we listen patiently.”

IMG_9409

She-of-Man-Paths added, “But do not try to protect me unless absolutely necessary. It will be greatly preferred if they do not know you are there.” 

At the end of the Dialog, She-of-Many-Paths declared that she sees a time when they may dialog with each other even when they are not in each other’s presence. This will enable them  to anticipate each other’s actions and, in this way, coordinate with each other as the birds in a flock anticipate each other’s actions and flow as a whole without collision. 

The initiates prepared over the next several days. They played several games that She-of-Many-Paths devised. In these games, they could only win when they guessed the actions of the others. At first, they guessed badly, but over the course of days, they became very accurate at such things as guessing the symbol or picture that each other wrote on a skin with charcoal and the number of pebbles each other held so that the total was some predetermined number.

Those among the Veritas who were expert at making arrowheads and spearheads made many such in preparation for a possible trouble. Those among the Veritas who were expert at finding vines did so. And, each of the Veritas, in their own way, made reluctant preparations for war.  

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives helped preparations in another way. She sent the initiates off in different directions into nearby woods and fields and had them meet up. Where this meeting would be was to be determined by an internal dialog with the others. They had to meet up at different places each time. At first, everyone met up in a different place. Then, pairs began to show up together. Eventually, they all met up at the same place.

During one such exercise, when they had nearly converged, She-of-Many-Paths heard someone tramping through the bushes in a noisy way that she recognized as the careless tromping of POND MUD. She stood still enough to become nearly invisible to many of the creatures in the forest. She alerted Shadow-Walker, Trunk-of-Tree, and Eagle Eyes through whistles. When She-of-Many-Paths was quite sure that her allies were in place, she moved to a likely spot near a path so that she might confront POND MUD. He walked right by her though his eyes were scanning back and forth in the dimming light for possible places for guard stations.  

She stepped out onto the path behind him and spoke. “POND MUD. You have broken the rules of banishment.” 

He whirled quickly, “Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”

“I am of the Veritas as you well know POND MUD since once you were one of us as well. But no longer. To be found here now could be your death. You must leave.” 

POND MUD folded his arms defiantly and spread his legs. “Then kill me if you must. I have a much right to be here as anyone!”

She-of-Many-Paths slowly walked toward POND MUD looking into his eyes and seeing into his heart. “I know that ALT-R humiliated you. Why do you still work with him?”

mudface

At first, POND MUD denied it and said it was She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives who humiliated him by showing him a cabin that he wasn’t strong enough to destroy but ants were strong enough. “You listen to her tales and try to win her rings if you like. But you will see! You will see soon enough!”

She-of-Many-Paths spoke gently, “That was not done to humiliate you but to teach you the important lesson that though you are very strong for a person, you could accomplish so much more working with others rather than trying to overpower them with your strength. Now, you are alone and all your strength gains you nothing, for you failed to learn the lesson.”

POND MUD snorted. “That shows how much you know! I have plenty of helpers! ALT-R, KAVA-NUT…No, never mind. You will see.” 

She-of-Many-Paths shook her head sadly. “Still working with ALT-R? POND MUD, he will betray you just when you need him the most. He uses the strength of his brain to overpower you.” Here, she paused and looked hard into POND MUD’s eyes and soul.  “And humiliate you.”

POND MUD’s face grew red. “He wasn’t humiliating me! He was saving my life! I could only get out of the quicksand by blowing bubbles. That’s why I had to put my face in the mud. He saved my life!” 

“How does blowing bubbles in the mud save your life?”

“Well, it did, because here I am!” 

She-of-Man-Paths thought of various examples that might show the error of this logic, but realized that POND MUD was not now in a very receptive mood for lessons. She-of-Many-Paths recalled the lesson of training trees which She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had taught her long before she had begun her quest for the Rings of Empathy.

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had once led her to a very small cave in a forest not far from the Lake of Reeds. “Now, suppose,” she had said in her ever gentle voice, “that you wished to keep this cave a secret known only unto the two of us. How might you hide it for a very long time?” 

She-of-Many-Paths had said, “Well, I could fill the entrance with rocks. Though that would be much work now and presage further work whenever I wanted to use it. I could cover the entrance with sticks, or broken trees. That would be too obvious to an eye that looked at it with more than a glance. These nearby saplings would look more natural. She took one such sapling whose slender trunk plunged skyward and tried to push it over the entrance. The sapling, though young, was surprisingly strong so she put her hands around it and began climbing with her body below it thus bending the tiny trunk toward the cave entrance. As she climbed she pulled her whole weight down. Just as she felt she was making good progress, the sapling cracked and spilled her sprawling onto the ground. Now the sapling was nearly torn through. Oh, so sorry, tree. Well, that looks pretty obvious and could draw more attention toward the cave than before.” 

“Yes, She-of-Many-Paths. Indeed, you are correct. Your idea of using saplings to hide the entrance is a good one, but suppose you need not be in such a hurry.” 

“I could use vines to loop around it and move it just a little. Then, perhaps, I could come back in a week and bend it a little more. I could come back every week for a long time. Eventually, the tree would grow bent over the entrance but not be broken as my hurryingd has done. I could do that as well to another tree on the other side. I could, in this way, encourage both trees to bend farther and farther toward covering the entrance. Then, as they grew, in this healthy way, and grew more leaves and branches, the trees would cover the entrance in a natural way. Though this would be a good cover except when the cold df winter encouraged the trees to drop their leaves. Above though, are more vines which I could likewise and somewhat more easily encourage to grow down over the top. This would take some time, but after a few years, the cave would indeed be well-hidden from all but the cleverest of eyes.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had smiled her warm smile at She-of-Many-Paths and had suggested, “Perhaps we can test your idea. You continue with your plan for two dozen moons and then I will return with you and we will see how well-hidden this cave entrance has become.” 

She-of-Many-Paths had continued the slow bending of the trees and the slow encouragement of the vines from above. At first, there seemed little progress, but by the end of the 24 moons, the cave entrance was indeed quite well hidden, even in the dead of winter. 

IMG_2895

She-of-Many-Paths recalled this entire incident in a flash and knew that she had tried to bend the mind of POND MUD far too quickly. He was already convinced that ALT-R was his true friend and had saved his life. Her words had been true of course, but they only firmed the thoughts of POND MUD on his current deadly path. Yet, She-of-Many-Paths did not have 24 moons, and probably not even one to gently incline the perception of POND MUD toward a path of actual truth.    

“Indeed you are here, POND MUD, and I suspect that is more because of your own strength than because of ALT-R, but I have no wish to argue with you. You are indeed here, not far from the very people who have exiled you. Yet, you know the penalty for being here is death. You risk that. For what?”

“Not your business.”

“I don’t see ALT-R risking his life to find out this vital information you seek.” 

“He’s doing the same elsewhere. And if you kill us, you will have to answer to him and to NUT-PI.”

IMG_2578

“I have no desire to kill you POND MUD, and you are far too strong for me to overpower you.” At these words, She-of-Many-Paths felt a slight twinge of conscience. While it was strictly true that she had insufficient strength to overpower POND MUD, she had no doubt whatever that she could have dispatched him with one or both of the sharp daggers she had hidden on her person, even before her waiting and watching friends intervened. It was also true that she had no desire to kill POND MUD though she would have done so gladly if it could have saved the Veritas. And, it appeared from the stumbling words of POND MUD, and more so from those words he did not say but from darkness within him that he was trying to hide, that he and ALT-R  and NUT-PI, whoever that was, were up to no good. She was aware that, although she spoke literal truth, POND MUD might take those words in a way that planted seeds of untruth in his mind. Nonetheless, she persisted, “I certainly have no desire to kill your new friend NUT-PI whom I do not even know of.” This too was strictly true. She-of-Many-Paths ventured a guess, “Is he perhaps a friend of CHOFM?” 

“Friend?!” POND MUD snorted. “That shows how much you know! You think you’re so smart with all your rings of empathy! NUT-PI is a far stronger and younger king than CHOFM!” 

“Stronger than CHOFM? That is strong indeed, POND MUD, for CHOFM is known to be quite strong, possibly even stronger than you. What of this NUT-PI? Is he stronger than you?” 

POND MUD frowned, “I’m stronger. But NUT-PI…You’ll see.” 

She-of-Many-Paths, like the rest of the Veritas, felt great anger toward POND MUD for lying about KAVA-NUT. Yet, she could see that beneath his blustery anger and boasts was a boy quit unsure of himself. It reminded her of what She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives called a “Killing Circle.” The more he felt alone and incapable, the more he tried to rely on his strength and the strength of those who played to his ego. This, made him even more cut off from true friendship. Even before being banished, he had felt — and still felt — cut off from the tribe of the Veritas. And the more he had acted this way, the more the Veritas despised him. And, the more they despised him, the more alone and incapable he felt. 

{Translator’s Note}: We would typically call this a “positive feedback loop” in today’s cybernetic parlance, though a “positive feedback loop” can be a “virtuous cycle” as well as a “vicious cycle.” The Veritas had no special term, at least that I have discovered, for a “virtuous cycle.” I believe this is because they viewed the normal course of life to be a giant web of “virtuous cycles.” 

She-of-Many-Paths, true to her name, considered many ways to try to draw more information from POND MUD. Presently, she said quietly, “Do you think you were wronged by the Veritas when they banished you and KAVA-NUT and ALT-R?” 

“NO! I don’t care!” POND MUD answered loudly and quickly. Too quickly, and too loudly, it seemed to She-of-Many-Paths as though he had already prepared himself for such a question; as though he could not acknowledge the hurt behind his anger and treachery. “Just wait! You’ll see what happens to those who defy us! You think you are so smart! All this empathy will do you no good. Rings indeed. They will be no match for spears and arrows.” 

“You may be right, POND MUD, but you had good insights yourself in the first trials. Speaking of which, where are your Rings of Empathy? Surely, you didn’t throw out such well made jewelry.” 

“I – it’s not for you to know. It doesn’t matter! I’ve wasted enough breath on you and the Veritas. The Cupiditas do not gab all day. We train and … you and I have a date. A date of reckoning. Till then, go seek your precious rings. I do not need mine.” 

In a flash of insight, She-of-Many-Paths said quietly, “Was it your idea to give NUT-PI your rings? Or, was it ALT-R’s?” 

Having She-of-Many-Paths look thus into his heart plucked at small remnants of his longings to return to the Veritas, but precisely because of this, it flared his anger. Fundamentally, he was angry with himself, or, more accurately that part of himself that still felt a connection to truth and love and life. The truth he wanted to avoid above all others and the truth he desperately wished to avoid at all costs was that he longed for the past, his past, a past which would never — and could never — come again. He had chosen a different path and he hated any hint that he had chosen the wrong path, particularly when it stirred such feelings of longing within himself. He felt such rage at himself, displaced onto She-of-Many-Paths that he could barely contain himself from killing or maiming or raping She-of-Many-Paths then and there. Instead, he bellowed like an animal and ran off through the forest. 

She-of-Many-Paths looked at his retreating figured and wondered whether banishment had been the correct punishment. Before following this line of thought very far however, her companions came onto the path where she stood. Shadow Walker was the first to arrive and the first to speak, “I could not hear all that you said. I could hear almost all of what POND MUD said though. Indeed, every beast in the forest could probably hear him. How did you make him so angry?” At these last words, Eyes-of-Eagle and Trunk-of-Tree arrived as well. She-of-Many-Paths spoke again, “I said nothing to make him angry, though at each point, he chose to make himself angry over what I said. I honestly think he feels sorry for his choices and sorry for pitching his tent with KAVA-NUT and possibly with ALT-R though he believes, or at least part of him believes, that ALT-R saved his life. 

Trunk-of-Tree laughed. “I heard that. By making him blow bubbles in the mud? What a fool.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle shook her head. “I knew that POND MUD was not so bright as some but I never thought he would fall for such a blatant lie as that.” 

“Indeed,” said She-of-Many-Paths, “but don’t forget ALT-R is smart and had plenty of time to bend his mind. Anyway, we should focus on what we learned. Unless, POND MUD is a far better artist of camouflage than even the bullfrog and walking stick, he and ALT-R, and KAVA-NUT are indeed in league with the Cupiditas. They are going to try, not to kill us all, but to enslave us or at least some of us. Apparently, CHOFM has been vanquished by a new king, NUT-PI and POND MUD has given away his Rings of Empathy as a gift to solidify their fealty. Probably, ALT-R gave his up as well.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle shook her head, “I find it hard to believe that ALT-R would honestly pledge his fealty to anyone. It is not the shape of his ambition. That shape always leads to himself at the top of any hill such as the people may occupy.” 

She-of-Many-Paths nodded gravely. “Yes, I also think it so. I believe that each of these are playing a game of make-believe. Each strives to make the others believe that they are faithful to a common cause when in reality, each has a different interest and the only thing they share is that they will use each other only so long as it suits their purpose. After such a time as the Cupiditas were to enslave us, they would betray each other. It may be that there is a way to reveal this. Meanwhile, we must prepare and redouble our efforts for I feel from POND MUD that this attack will come soon. We must redouble our preparations and share all that we have learned.”

IMG_7773——————————————-

Books on Amazon. Author Page

“The Winning Weekend Warrior” – strategy, tactics & the mental game for all sports

“Turing’s Nightmares” – speculative fiction on “The Singularity”

“Fit in Bits” – describes numerous ways to work exercise into daily activities for more fitness and more fun.

“Tales from an American Childhood” recounts early experiences and relates them to contemporary issues and events.

Poems about war and peace

Fish have no Name for “Water”

All We Stand to Lose

Guernica

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Peace

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

An Open Sore from Hell

The Walkabout Diaries

Sunsets

Natural Variation

Life Will Find a Way

The Life of the Party

Precipitation

Levels of Beauty

Bee Wise

Symphony

How Beautiful and Green

Mind Walk

 

 

A Tight Flock Unified by Division

18 Tuesday Aug 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

#Cult, America, cognitive dissonance, conformism, cowardice, cruelty, Democracy, division, fascism, Feedback, GOP, life, MAGA, politics, Trumpism, truth, unity, USA

herd of sheep

Photo by Jose Lorenzo on Pexels.com

Does it seem odd to anyone else that — no wait. Hold on. I was about to say: “Does it seem odd to anyone else that the Trump death cult is only united by their devotion to Trump and the only common value in their “platform” is that they value hate and dividing people, not uniting people — and yet, they are completely unified. They are unified about division.”

abstract barbed wire black white black and white

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 
But then, I realized, in a twisted sort of way, this is actually logical. *Because* they are united in hatred and dismissing anyone different, they are terrified to stray from the pack. But what if they do it by accident? What if they see something that looks interesting or useful and head toward it? NO NO NO! They might be culled from the herd! (A fate that could literally be worse than death if they & Trump continue to destroy the rule of law). No-one in America will be safe. Neither red hats nor assault weapons will keep you safe from Trump’s predations which will include the same horrors that other cruel dictators have employed because they think it helps keep them in power and because they simply enjoy making others feel pain. 

woman in black tank top blindfolded

Photo by Thuanny Gantuss on Pexels.com

 
How can such a tight pack keep from disintegrating? By listening to Trump. To them, he is the ultimate authority on every single topic. In precisely this way, the entire flock knows exactly what to say (at least today; yes, it could change tomorrow, but they’ll be watching for his tweets again tomorrow or listening to Fox News to tell them what is real). They listen to the Oraclown and his reflection. 
IMG_9198————————-
For some reason, the real-world evil and treachery of Putin’s puppet always makes me think of these *purely fictional* stories about a child sociopath.
(Not suitable for children or people without a well-developed sense of values. To reiterate, these are pure fiction meant to illustrate how a sociopath “thinks.” For details about Donnie’s actual life, try his niece’s book:
https://www.amazon.com/Too-Much-Never-Enough-Dangerous/dp/1982141468
Donnie Plays Bull-Dazzle Man
Donnie Boy Plays Captain Man
Donnie Boy Plays Soldier Man
Donnie Lets His Brother Take the Fall
Donnie Visits Granny
Donnie Takes a Blue Ribbon in Spelling
Donnie Gets his Name on a Tennis Trophy
Donnie Gets a Hamster
Donnie Learns Golf!

Timeline

03 Sunday May 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, cruelty, despotism, Dictatorship, fascism, Feedback, life, pandemic, plague, Putin, testing, treason, truth

1/22/2020: 17

9C1B86DC-C7DA-4EE0-B688-A76C7678C58B

“…totally under control…

“It’s going to be just fine…”

And dandy, 

Like dynamite lit 

But under a bowl

You don’t see much 

If you are such 

That has no spine. 

Nor half a wit.

Death tastes like candy!

close up photo of woman holding lollipop

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

2/1/2020: 304

“…we pretty much shut it down…” 

No need to frown! 

We’re the best game in town! 

2E9EBFDF-8366-41E3-B9D1-47136A7D029B

2/8/2020: 813 

“…so we’re in very good shape…”

I like to rape, 

The younger the better!

Epstein, my buddy: quite the jet-setter! 

Jeffrey WHO? 

Him I barely knew! 

He mysteriously died

Before he could squeal 

‘Cause we had a deal. 

Billy Barr is the best!

He’s on my side! 

Kills on request. 

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

2/22/2020: 2460

“…stock market looking 

Very good to me…!”

And books, I’ve been cooking

Ever since I was wee!

Which reminds me of pee!

Which starts with a ’T’

Which stands for Trump

And kissing my rump.

coronavirus

Photo by CDC on Pexels.com

3/8/2020: 3826

“The risk is low!” 

And I oughta know!

I’m a genius who’s stable!

(I watch Fox on cable).

I go with my gut!

(Nearly as big as my butt!)

If they die in far places

Why should I care? 

Not even white races

Just people to spare. 

Here in ‘Merica, we’re still sitting pretty.

Only 22 deaths, it’s a drop in the bucket!

The snowflakes are getting amazingly petty!

But I don’t care and just say “#### it!” 

680174EA-5910-4F9B-8C75-C15B3136FB06_1_105_c

3/22/2020: 14,739

Thank goodness for ME!

My ratings are high! 

Among my slaves it’s 509

Do not whine!

Do not cry!

Plagues enrich the Crime Family!

E056DBCD-67B8-415B-9ECF-A7DE15F7164F_1_105_c

4/5/2020: 72,535

There’s plenty of testing as you can see!

For everyone willing to bow to ME!

American deaths are sitting quite pretty!

Though some will call for tears and pity.

It’s just a ten K.

It’s AOK!

64AC5B76-C6C3-40D5-A26D-9CB06754678A_4_5005_c

4/19/2020: 167,788

Let’s open up and re-elect!

We can’t have a down-ish DOW!

I’m the ONE the Russians select!

Letting everyone vote is a sacred cow.

Arm yourselves and demand to be free!

To do what I tell you fanatically! 

Americans dead? Only 41 thou! 

brown spider on spider web

Photo by Erik Karits on Pexels.com

5/3/2020: 246,943

I grade myself: with every A!

And who knows better than brilliant ME!

I dotted each ‘i’ and crossed every ’T’

And jumped at each opportunity

To watch Fox News on my TV

And Marrow-Lago’s? Golf’s place to play!

two man standing beside golf carts

Photo by Jopwell on Pexels.com

Go drink some bleach! 

And crowd on the beach!

We’re falling behind in the USA.

We’re only just now at 68K!

D202CABB-A6CF-4932-87E1-6F6A161730CE

Come on people! Show your master!

I need an even million dead — and so much faster!

Putin’s telling us all to hurry

Don’t stay home with your chin all furry.

Get those tattoos, massages, and cuts!

If you die it just shows that you had the guts!

To follow “Der Fooler” right over that cliff!

If you don’t like death’s smell, 

Then don’t take a whiff.

Stay under my spell

And before this year’s end, 

I’ll have met Putin’s quota!

You shouldn’t care even one iota

How many fell or now live in hell.

Family dead or perhaps a dear friend?

Who gives a damn when I’m having such fun!?

My race to dictatorship nearly won!

And when at last all power is mine,

I’ll rewrite history so you will learn, 

That it’s fine to torture and great to burn!

I can treat everyone just like swine!

My ego will swell! So all will be well!

Hitler’s reign: a mere thousand years!

More important: his tally of ten million dead!

86A389C7-4CD7-42E3-ABFA-A555A5BB24CB
D27C46AA-C37E-4AB7-8FE8-8DA937E31A91

Vlad and I have work to do, 

But our being happy depends on you!

We’ll only be happy when few are fed

And we can feast on trillions of tears!

Shut away your childish fears!

Believe our lies, however absurd.

I’ll abandon you as quick as a Kurd!

brown and white snake

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

But you’re not allowed to see what’s true!

Or look beyond my invisible hue!

Watch my glitter as you fall down and die

Give “Der Fooler” one last sigh

Love me tender and call me ‘great.’ 

As you fall and die — but don’t be late! 

tombstone on cemetery during daytime

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s all a hoax that’s been brought by the left

Who’d open the borders and make you all gay.

Just believe in me and you don’t have to think!

I’ll take your cash and leave you bereft. 

I’ll make you work for a dollar a day

While you wallow in filth and smell the sick stink.

IMG_8483

But that’s just Donald: me being me!

So know your role; increase that toll!

Help me reach that golden goal!

Let’s destroy democracy! 

Let’s fashion a world where I am supreme!

And everyone knows their proper place.

I’ll drink the milk and all of the cream. 

But you can be happy that I’ve lived my dream:

When I die — take the whole human race. 

Once you’ve given your all and all you have to give

When *I* die — why should anyone live? 

burial cemetery countryside cross

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Let’s go lackeys and strive for the best!

Make America Great and lead all the rest!

Make America end with a big loud BANG!

Help me sharpen COVID’s brutal FANG!

A million dead at the end of the year!

Me on my throne without shedding a tear!

IMG_9198

12/31/2020 (world): <2,000,000

12/31/2020 (USA): >1,000,000


Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

You Bet Your Life!

Trumpism is a New Religion

Abandoning Adulthood

Just Tommy being Tommy!

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic 

Donnie Gets a Hamster!

 

 

Donnie Gets a Hamster!

14 Tuesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 27 Comments

Tags

bully, childhood, crime, criminal mind, cruelty, Dictator, fiction, psychology, short story, sociopath, story, tyrant

hamster

Photo by Juris Freidenfelds on Pexels.com

“No, Donnie, I told you. You’re not getting a dog until you show me that you can handle more responsibility.”

“But Mommy! I’m ‘sponsible! Watch! Look! See! I’m not peeing my pants any more!”

She turned away from the sink and checked the front of Donnie’s pants. “I know, Donnie. That’s a good thing. Believe me, Fred and I are very proud of you for that. But neither one of us has time to take care of a dog. You have to help out around the house.”

“But, I don’t like housework, Mommy. It’s for bitches. Not for young men.” 

Mom sighed. She shook her head. “Do I have to wash your mouth out with soap? Don’t use that word!” 

Donnie pretended not to understand. “I’m not supposed to say, ‘housework’? How come?” 

Mom said, “Donnie, there’s nothing wrong with saying ‘housework.’ Or, doing it, for that matter. But don’t say ‘bitch.’ It’s not nice. If you talk like that no-one with an ounce of sense will make friends with you. It shows a lack of self-control.” 

“How about ‘son-of-a-bitch’ — is that okay, Mommy?” 

“Donnie, no. Just no. Can you dry the dishes for me? That’s something a ten year old should be able to do.”

“NO NO NO NO NO NO! I’m doing that! It’s for bitches! Sorry. I mean, it’s for pussies. Daddy never dries dishes.” 

abstract blue clean container

Photo by jamie he on Pexels.com

“Where did you get such a filthy mouth anyway? I don’t talk like that. Anyway, if you can’t even help me do the dishes, how do you expect me to think you’ll take care of a dog. I told you. It’s a lot of work.” 

Donnie smiled. Suddenly, he was afraid he was going to laugh. He stuck his fingernails into his palms to keep from laughing at how stupid his mommy was. “I do lots of work!” 

Mom put the last dish on the drying rack. She turned to look at her son. “Donnie, you don’t do any work. I asked you yesterday to rake leaves. You didn’t do that. On Monday, I asked you to weed the garden. You didn’t do either one. I’m not getting you a dog.”

“I’m not peeing my pants! And I did rake the leaves. I couldn’t weed the garden because my hands would get dirty! Then what?”

Mom took town a dish towel and begin drying the dishes. “Donnie, Junior raked the leaves. Not you.” 

photography of maple trees

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

“Is that what he told you? What a liar! He just told you that after I raked them! He’s a liar! Why do you let him get away with that? Why Mommy? Is it because no-one loves me?” 

She stopped drying the dishes. She wiped her hands and turned to look at her son. “Donnie, of course, we love you. We all love you. But you did not rake the leaves. Why do you say you did?” 

Donnie yelled, “HE LIED! HE LIED! I HATE FRED JUNIOR! HE LIES! HE TAKES CREDIT AFTER I RAKE THE LEAVES!” 

“Donnie. Do you see the picture window in front by the dining room table? I sat right there and polished the silverware and watched Junior rake the leaves. You went over — twice — and tried to wreck up the stack he was making. You did not help at all.” 

“That was me doing the raking, Mommy! I was the one who raked the leaves! Junior was trying to wreck up the stacks. Maybe we — I think we were wearing each other’s coats. That might have confused you. Did you have your glasses on?” 

She sighed. What the hell…? “Donnie, he’s a head taller than you. He wouldn’t even fit in your coat. I know what I saw.” 

Donnie saw it was time to shift gears again. “It may have been really foggy. I don’t know how you got confused. But you only know what you think you saw. I was there and I remember the leaves, but let’s not fight. I love you. I don’t want to upset you. I just want a dog. What do you think?” 

brown wolf

Photo by Steve on Pexels.com

“Donnie. No.” It was exhausting to deal with this kid. Sometimes, I wonder why I even try. Maybe a boarding school is the answer. Maybe a dog would teach him some responsibility. But it wouldn’t work. I’d just end up picking up the poop, feeding the dog…”I’ll tell you what, Donnie. I’ll talk to Dad and see what he thinks about getting you a hamster. If you take care of that for a year, on your own, then we can talk about getting a dog. How about that?”

Donnie thought about it. A hamster is better than nothing. Not as much fun as a dog. But maybe I could trade it for a dog. Susan might be that stupid. Or Lindsey. They’ll believe anything. Worth a try. “Oh, Mommy, that sounds great! Can we go now? Can we get it NOW! How about now!”

Mom was already beginning to regret her impulsive offer. “Donnie, I told you that I was going to discuss it with your father. If he’s okay with it, we can go to the pet store on Saturday morning. But I’m not taking care of it. You have to feed it and provide water and clean its cage. Understand?”

“Oh, yes, Mommy! I understand. I’ll do all the work. Or pay someone else to do it. I mean if I’m out of town or something.” 

—————————————

Sure enough, that Saturday, Donnie went to the pet store to get a hamster. It was teeny and pathetic. He could easily crush it with one hand. It hardly counted as a weapon of protection. But maybe if I take care of the hamster, he reasoned, they’ll get me an attack dog later. 

macro photography of mouse near brown wooden cage

Photo by Ellie Burgin on Pexels.com

It was a bright sunny day out, so he took the cage out. Junior and Maryanne were off with their friends. Mommy had said to stay in they yard, but she wouldn’t mind if he went next door to the vacant lot. There were some things he needed to check out about his hamster. Things he wanted to do in private. He didn’t even know yet whether it was a boy or a bitch. There was a nice little grassy spot in the sun on the other side of the fence. He put the cage down and stuck his hand inside. Stupid Hamster was easy to catch. At least, in the cage it was. Maybe “Stupid” is a good name for him. Or her, he reminded himself. The pet store people had said it was a male, but Donnie had his doubts. He didn’t notice anything hanging out down there. Well, this time, he’d get a good look, away from prying eyes. 

He pulled back the fur and looked everywhere. Nothing. If the Hamster did have a thingie it was even teenier than his own. That made Donnie feel good. And feeling good reminded him of tearing apart grasshoppers. And that made him wonder whether he could get the Hamster to eat a grasshopper. Now, that would be fun to watch. He scanned the nearby area but didn’t see any grasshoppers. He could look by the tall weeds, but that was too much work. All of a sudden, it hit Donnie that while a hamster was a lot less work than a dog, it was also a much stupider pet. Not only would it not protect him. It wouldn’t fetch. It wouldn’t go on walks. What good is a stupid hamster, with such a teeny thingie you couldn’t even see it. 

He wondered if it’s little paw fingers would break off like the grasshopper’s legs. That might be fun. But the grasshopper was hard. This hamster was soft like a snot rag. You couldn’t really break a snot rag. So…? It wouldn’t be that much fun. But people could break bones. So, maybe I could break hamster’s bones. It wouldn’t be as much fun as pulling its legs off, but it would be some fun. Then, he suddenly remembered his magnifying glass! The teacher had just had one of her boring science classes but one thing was cool. She had started a fire just by focusing the Sundays onto a piece of paper. And the paper had burned to a crisp when so many Sundays all came at once. Donnie could relate. Sundays were always boring. 

selective focus photo of magnifying glass

Photo by fotografierende on Pexels.com

Donnie decided it would be fun to see how the stupid hamster reacted if he set different parts of it on fire. He took the magnifying class out of his pants pocket. He grabbed the hamster and held it tightly in his left hand. Then he took his magnifying glass and played it back and forth to focus on the hamster’s nose. That would hurt! But the stupid hamster kept wiggling and wouldn’t hold still. “HOLD STILL you stupid bitch! OUCH!!” Donnie dropped the hamster onto the grass.

The hamster bit him! How dare he! I will burn that bitch to a crisp, he thought. 

“What, in God’s name are you doing?” 

Donnie jumped and screamed in sudden surprise at a voice so near. He jerked his head and saw Junior standing there with a frown. “Junior! Just in time to help me. My hamster jumped out of its cage and it ran away. Help me look. Help me find him! Look over there by the tall weeds. I’ll look this other direction. He can’t have gone far. Please! Help me! Mommy will kill us if I lose it the very first day!” 

Fred walked casually toward the tall weeds and asked, “Why were you yelling at it?” 

“Let’s find him and I’ll explain it all.” Donny ran off across the property line and leaped up the stairs to the back porch. He flung open the door. “Mommy! Mommy! Junior threw out my hamster! He’s lost! We can’t find him! Oh, Mommy. Mommy. Come help us look!” 

Mom was growing slightly more skeptical of Donnie’s claims, but her first instinct was to believe her own son. “Why would he do that, Donnie? Are you sure?”

“Come help me look! Quick Mommy or will never find him. Junior said he never had a hamster so why should I get one. And then…”  At this point, Donnie put both hands over his face and pushed it into a sad face. But it wouldn’t stay. He’d have to keep it covered, he decided. “Then, he took the top off. I thought he just wanted to pet my hamster. But no! He threw it in the bushes! I’m scared a wolf might eat it! Or, a bear!” 

They quickly strode out to the vacant lot. When they got there, they saw Junior hunkered down staring into the tall weeds. Mom yelled out, “Junior! Why did you let Donnie’s hamster out?” 

“I didn’t let his hamster out. He dropped it.” Unlike Mom, Junior was onto Donnie’s tricks, or at least some of them. 

Mom opened her mouth, but before her lips even parted, Donnie began his fake crying, “No, Mommy. No. That’s not true. I was petting it inside the cage but Junior said he would show me. And he took my hamster and threw it over there somewhere.” 

Junior looked at his mother and shook his head. “Why would I care if Donnie has a hamster? Really? Seriously? And why would I look for it if I threw it out. And if I did throw it over here and Donnie saw me then why did he go “looking” the other direction?” 

Mom looked questioningly at Donnie who smiled his biggest possible smile. “Mommy? Can I please have a dog now?”  

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

—————————————

Donnie Plays Bull-Dazzle Man! 

Donnie Plays Doctor Man!

Donnie Plays Soldier Man!

Donnie Visits Granny!

 

BRA-BRILL’s Audience with NUT-PI

28 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cruelty, cursing, greed, legend, myth, power, religion, ROI, story, Veritas

{Translator’s Note}: Among the ROI, the Z-LOTZ and the Veritas, swear words, as best we can tell, refer to religion, excretion or procreation. At least among the tribes that I’ve studied, no-one swears by referring to ingestion, coagulation, thinking, moving muscles, or other functional aspects of life. However, it appears that the different tribes varied in their preferred choice of swear words; I will not bother to translate these directly into their English counterparts; instead, I’ll use a more “polite” word but you will know doubt be able to tell what was really meant. These tribes all seemed to have shared another odd trait. They actually used both crude and polite forms of cursing. It was considered more powerful and more satisfying to use the “polite” forms. It showed, so the reasoning went, that you were fully aware of the fact that you were cursing; that you were still in charge of your faculties.

F31160D7-CE1D-4F66-BA65-1808CC617B3F

One of BRA-BRILL’s lieutenants rushed up to BRA-BRILL. “Sire, we must slow down a bit. The women and children are having trouble keeping up. There may be further Veritas about who would capture our women and children for their own purposes. For that matter, so might the wolves. Might we take a short break so everyone can catch up?” 

BRA-BRILL turned his lifeless eyes to his lieutenant. “Oh, thank you so much my fine lieutenant for bringing this to my attention! I did not realize that there were Veritas about. I did not realize that our entire procreating village has been destroyed! Thank a diety we have brilliant people about such as you to set me straight! You are nearly as valuable as an obstruction to a defecation! Come here. Come closer. Attaboy! Now, hand me your sword, you diety-forsaken ever-procreating excretion. Come on. Do it.”

IMG_3459

The soldier realized he should have sent one of his own lackeys to make a suggestion. What the hell had he been thinking, making a suggestion himself? Maybe it was the shock of being awakened to an alarm and soon after being caught in a forest fire. Still…

BRA-BRILL took the sword and smiled, “Thank you. This is indeed a fine blade.” BRA-BRILL turned it in his hand and made a couple of sweeps with the sword through the air. “A fine weapon.” Suddenly, BRA-BRILL twirled the blade and struck the messenger across his thigh causing a substantial gash. The soldier fell heavily to the ground. 

“Oops. My hand slipped. No matter. Now, you can serve some useful purpose. You there! And you! Come take this wounded soldier and tie him fast to yonder tree. Make sure he cannot escape. He will draw any wolves or lions off our trail and perhaps the Veritas may find him and torture him for some truth. Well, come to think of it, best to cut out his tongue as well.”

IMG_3484

The soldier lay on the ground with his hand pressed to his thigh, trying to slow the escaping rivulet of blood. “NO, SIRE! No, please!”  

BRA-BRILL loved it when he had a chance to mock others.  In a fair imitation of a small child’s squeaky voice, he repeated, “No, sire. No, please!” 

“You disgust me, bodily function, now go serve some useful purpose. I’m just following your advice, after all.” With this, he curtly motioned to the two guards to take him away and cut out his tongue. As the bleeding soldier was carried off to be set as wolf bait, he turned to see some of his people had stopped and stared. “Get back to marching! ALL of you! Unless you procreating anatomy-parts want to join procreating visage as procreating wolf bait!” 

IMG_3478

BRA-BRILL’s mood had improved considerably after this incident, but he knew that tough times lay ahead. NUT-PI was every bit as … focused … as he himself was. The truth was that BRA-BRILL was about to stop anyway, not so others could catch up but because he was exhausted. All the fine food he had had access to as well as the servants that did his bidding meant that he was now considerably overweight and walking any distance tired him quickly. “Procreating horses!” he muttered to no-one in particular. “How the mythical and horrid afterlife did all those procreating horses get away? Procreate!!” 

BRA-BRILL liked swearing. It made him feel powerful. In this case, though, he had another purpose. He wanted to be all “sworn out” by the time they reached the city of the Z-LOTZ. They were all an odd lot and some of them objected to a person simply expressing themselves in the most natural way. He didn’t need that kind of trouble. He strongly suspected that NUT-PI believed none of the malarkey that the Z-LOTZ believed, or at least professed to believe. But that didn’t mean some jealous priest or other wouldn’t call BRA-BRILL out if he used profanity within the walls of their “Sacred City.” 

“Sacred City. Hah!” BRA-BRILL sneered aloud at the idea. Just more horse manure for the weak-minded, he mused. “You there! Yes, YOU! Bring me some meat and bread and wine.” 

IMG_3240

The hapless youth who had been pointed at was not sure who, if anyone, had brought such provisions. This was not, after all, a planned and organized march. Usually, the ROI would have spent weeks planning a trip to see the Z-LOTZ. He had just witnessed the wrath of BRA-BRILL when irked. He would try to find something pleasing among the people and if he failed, he would sneak away into the woods and try his luck with the wolves rather than risk displeasing BRA-BRILL. “Yes, sire! I’ll be back soon!” He scampered off and began querying the ROI about provisions, making sure everyone knew that they were not for him but for their leader. 

—————————————————-

A few day’s march brought the numerous throng of ROI to the city gates of the Z-LOTZ. They were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, but all were ordered to remain outside. Word came that NUT-PI would see BRA-BRILL but he was to come unarmed and alone. When BRA-BRILL heard this, he began to sweat. He carefully slowed his breathing, but his bone dry mouth still tasted of metal. He muttered under his breath, “Procreating waste!” There was little for it though. He would have to comply. Though he had taken much more than his “fair share” of the provisions found among the ROI, he also felt hunger and thirst. So, he thrust his new sword into the ground and marched off to see NUT-PI, surrounded by four guards. Each sported a long pike and wore leather armor studded with metal. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Soon, he stood in a courtyard before NUT-PI who sat upon a high chair. He tried to lick his lips and took a deep breath. “Well met, oh great NUT-PI! I bring you…” 

“Silence,” NUT-PI said in little more than a bored whisper. “Speak to me again before I give you leave to do so and I will cut out your tongue as you did with your lieutenant.” 

BRA-BRILL almost spoke again. Instead, he slammed his mouth shut, wondering how the painful afterlife NUT-PI found out about the lieutenant. 

Again NUT-PI spoke softly. He hissed as he spoke, almost like a snake. “Come forward now and kneel before me.” 

BRA-BRILL shambled forward and knelt in the sharp gravel in front of NUT-PI. NUT-PI regarded him coldly with unlit eyes. “Did you bring the required number of women and children as slaves?” 

BRA-BRILL tried to swallow but couldn’t. “Close but also vital information, Sire.” 

“Close?” NUT-PI snickered. “I asked you a simple question. Surely, even you have the intelligence to answer my question. I will say it slowly for you. Did. You. Bring. The. Required. Number. Of. Women. And. Children. As. Slaves? Yes or no?” 

PicturesfromiPhone2 033

BRA-BRILL tried to think but found it difficult when his knees hurt and his mouth was so dry. He decided that trying to be clever would be too risky. “No, Sire.” 

“So you failed in the only task I asked you to accomplish. Is that right? You failed. Did you fail?” 

“Yes, Sire. I failed.” BRA-BRILL looked down. He began to fantasize about cutting NUT-PI to pieces but shook it out of his mind. 

NUT-PI smiled. “Well, it’s not your fault, after all. You have no real ability, do you?” 

BRA-BRILL gritted his teeth together. “No, Sire. I do not.” 

NUT-PI continued. “No, you do not. And now, not only have you failed to bring me the required number of slaves. You have allowed your village to be burned down. And, now you bring your entire people here…for what purpose? I suspect you wish to beg for food and water for them?” 

BRA-BRILL saw a possible opening and decided to chance taking it. “Oh, Sire, no. It is true that we are hungry and thirsty but we ask for none of that. What we can do is offer up valuable information about a tribe that call themselves The Veritas. They came in great hordes to attack our village and burn it down. They destroyed many of our weapons and stole our horses as well. But we come to offer to help you hunt them down and destroy them. If you will accept our humble gift.” 

NUT-PI sneered at BRA-BRILL with open contempt. NUT-PI began to drum his fingers on the arm of his large chair. He was in no hurry. After all, NUT-PI was not the one kneeling in sharp gravel. He gestured to one of his slaves and she brought over some grapes and bread. NUT-PI began slowly and sensually taking tiny bites of the food. He arranged his face into a large smile as he ate, chewing each bite over and over. 

BRA-BRILL saw the world shrink and grow dark. Just as he was about to pass out, NUT-PI spoke again. “Guards, take this pathetic man back to his people, such as they are. Bring me the inadequate number of slaves here for me to take first picks. I will see whether any are capable of pleasing me. If there are, I will consider his entreaty for food and water. If not, well, if not, just take the slaves and use the rest of the ROI for target practice.” 

IMG_5652

BRA-BRILL tried to rise on his own, but he couldn’t make his legs move properly. He put his hands on the ground and pushed off with his hands, staggering to his feet. He was marched out of the presence of NUT-PI. 

BRA-BRILL felt as though he had won a great victory. After all, he had escaped with his life, at least for now. He would find a way to oust NUT-PI and make him pay! He swore to himself that he would do that no matter what it took. For now, he would have to play a waiting game. 

The guards unceremoniously threw BRA-BRILL to the ground and began rounding up the slaves to be taken before NUT-PI. Preparing slaves provided one of the most fun aspects of their jobs. They would oversee the cleaning and dressing of the slaves. Occasionally, they were rewarded with one to share. 

IMG_3124

Author Page on Amazon. 

Post Fire Blues

24 Friday May 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, management, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cruelty, forest fire, greed, innovation, legends, myth, rescue, search, story, truth

BRILL-BRA was beside himself with rage. It became clear that his entire village would be destroyed. Damned Veritas, he thought, I will destroy every last one of them if it’s my last act on earth. People were in such a panic to grab their possessions and leave, many of his subjects were ignoring him. Him! A handful of soldiers helped him gather together the few children and quickly the small band headed out for the land of the Z-LOTZ. BRILL-BRA saw little choice but to throw his lot in with the Z-LOTZ. This carried its own risks because, even with the three young daughters of L-SIDNEY, he still fell short by two of the promised number of child slaves he was supposed to deliver before the next full moon. But BRILL-BRA had grown obese and soft. He had no desire to wander aimlessly and try to live off the land. Perhaps he could even find a way to overthrow NUT-PI and lead the numerous and obedient Z-LOTZ. 

IMG_2898

BRILL-BRA and his band of warriors and their captive children soon reached the lands they called, “The Dead Zone.” Almost nothing grew here. Ordinarily, the ROI avoided the place (as did all the tribes), but the shortest path to the cities of the Z-LOTZ lay through it. The days when BRILL-BRA enjoyed a long hike for the pleasure of it were long past. In this land of dirt and scattered rocks, falling sparks found nothing to feed on. While the Z-LOTZ believed “The Dead Zone” to be populated with the ghosts of long-dead ancestors, BRILL-BRA considered such superstition pure absurdity. He thought it most likely that such stories were concocted long ago to scare the children of the Z-LOTZ into submission. But, maybe the leaders believed all that bull crap. BRILL-BRA didn’t know and he didn’t care. He trudged on in a foul mood. He never even got a chance to torture L-SIDNEY. He began to curse loudly as he walked. They were barely two miles beyond the outskirts of their burning village when he ordered everyone to stop and rest. 

IMG_5417

He ordered one of his lackeys to bring one of the girls over to him. “Keep her hands tied behind her. I don’t trust her.” Soon it was done and the girl stood before him. BRILL-BRA considered that a little pleasuring from her would improve his mood and let him plot out his next moves. But what the hell was this? She was crying! “STOP CRYING!” he screamed, “or I will give you something to cry about! Why the hell are you crying?” 

The girl shivered in fear, and her voice was choked, but she managed a weak, tremulous reply. “I don’t know where Daddy is. Our whole village has been burned up. Why are you not crying, oh great leader?” 

Though these words were spoken in hardly more than a hoarse whisper, others had heard it. BRILL-BRA became flustered and embarrassed. “Because I am a man and men don’t cry. They build things and fix things. But you are beyond fixing!” He planted his foot in her belly and shoved her backwards. She fell back heavily and screamed in pain as she fell spraining her wrist which was trapped under her. Her head grazed a sharp rock and blood began to flow from her ear onto her disheveled ringlets. “Oh, CRAP!” screamed BRA-BRILL. NUT-PI always wanted the children delivered as tribute to be clean and uninjured so that he and he alone would be responsible for their various disfigurations and injuries. 

BRILL-BRA yelled at one of his soldiers to “Stop the bleeding and clean this one up. Bring me another. And make sure she’s got a nice smile on her face and is not blubbering like a child!” 

A thought flashed through the soldier’s mind, “But she is a child.” Naturally, he did not utter this aloud. He dutifully did as ordered. Soon, a still younger child was forced to kneel before BRILL-BRA. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

—————————————-

Tu-Swift raced downhill to escape the attacking flames. The thick smoke choked him and the air itself seemed to lack its very essence. He could not hear his comrades above the crackling of the fire nor see any sign of them. Suddenly, his foot landed wrong and he heard and felt a snapping within himself even above the roar of the raging fire. He heard a scream and landed hard on his stomach. He tried to breathe but couldn’t. Still the flames pursued him and he managed to rise to his hands and knees. He couldn’t stand upright. Something was wrong with his right leg. He scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of a stream and then into it. On the far side, he saw a large cliff coming right down to the water’s edge. He scrambled toward it. The cliff rock had split and he slipped into the large crack. He thought this would be as protected a space as he could find in his current condition. Surrounded by rock, scraped and scratched, he lay sideways in the cleft. Tu-Swift looked up at a sliver of blue sky above him. Tu-Swift wondered idly why the sky was blue now instead of black with smoke. He wondered who had screamed. He lost consciousness and began a tortured dream.  

broken wood on black background

Photo by Orlando Allo on Pexels.com

————————————————-

Thanks to the translations of Salah Hudah, the remaining members of the Veritas rescue party discovered that Day-Nah did indeed belong to the Nomads of the South. A trading caravan had been attacked by those who steal children and many warriors had been killed on both sides. Day-Nah had been banged on the head and when he awoke, he was bouncing around on the back of a horse. He never saw his older sister nor his mother again. Soon after he awoke, he was shoved into a small wooden jail with Tu-Swift. Day-Nah related their days together and that Tu-Swift had sabotaged the bows and arrows of the people who stand atop horses and also contrived to set the horses free. He had no knowledge of what had happened to any of their missing party. 

They spent another day searching for their missing compatriots again signaling by clacking sticks together and through coded bird calls but there were no answering calls and no drumbeats. The fire had destroyed all hope of their normal tracking methods. Even the wolf cubs proved to be unhelpful. The fire had apparently destroyed the scents of the missing, or perhaps simply overlain it with the smell of so much death and destruction that it obscured the odor of mere humans. 

photo of pile of burning wood

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Shadow Walker dreaded returning to the Veritas without Tu-Swift and with two more of their number missing. It seemed most likely that their friends had all died in the fire. It was also possible that all three or some of them had been captured by the ROI though they had not seen any of the ROI warriors, if that’s what they were, headed in their direction. Rather, when last seen, they were running back toward the ROI Village. Once there, they might have joined up with a much greater force and would now be marching out to find them and probably to continue on to the center place of the Veritas where they might wreak more death and destruction. 

They had important information about these people who sit astride horses, these stealers of children. This information must be shared with the tribe. They must help the Veritas prepare for another attack. From Day-Nah’s story, it seemed clear that stealing children might be a way of life for these people. Many Paths needed to consult with everyone about choosing what to do about child stealers living so near them. When Shadow Walker thought of Many Paths a great gray sadness weighed upon his heart. Could he tell her that Tu-Swift had disappeared? What might her response be? He wondered whether she would now hate him forever and indeed, whether he could forgive himself. But the area of destruction was so vast that they could search for weeks without finding the remains of Tu-Swift and the others. Meanwhile, the people who steal children might be mounting a giant attack on the Veritas. If that were the case, it would be important that all of the Veritas learn as much as possible about these people who steal children. 

Shadow Walker wished that he could discuss matters with Many Paths, or with She Who Saves Many Lives. He toyed with one of the rings of empathy, turning it this way and that in his hand. Somehow, he found comfort in knowing that Many Paths had such a ring as well. The substance of the ring reminded him of something. That something tickled at the edges of his mind. “The door!” he suddenly spoke aloud. That mysterious substance had been a cousin to this but much colder and much harder. For some reason he could not explain, this insight gave him confidence. He proposed that he would stay here alone and continue to search for their missing companions while the others returned with the news. He proposed to keep the wolf pups with him to aid in his searches. Perhaps once the stench of the burned grasses and trees subsided, the pups would be able to catch a scent. He would only slow them down if pursued on their journey home but hobbling slowly might be an actual advantage in searching for the missing trio.  

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

And so it was that at the next dawning, Fleet-of-Foot, Hudah Salah, Day-Nah, and Easy Tears ate what would perhaps be their last meal with Shadow Walker and began their trek back to the homeland of the Veritas. Their hearts were filled with important information but also with heavy news about their friends. Shadow Walker watched the ever-diminishing image of his companions disappearing over the blackened hilltop. He would not see them for a time that might grow to forever. 

He once again took out one of the Rings of Empathy and rolled it in his palm. He recalled a talk that he had had with Many Paths. She had jokingly told him how She Who Saves Many Lives, despite her aged body, could sneak up on someone unawares. According to Many Paths, She Who Saves Many Lives had laughed and explained how she managed the trick and Shadow Walker determined that he too could learn such a trick.

praying mantes

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

He decided that he would carefully examine the area around the creek for signs of the missing three. He would contrive to become even more skillful at the art of Shadow Walking. He would, as had been suggested by She Who Saves Many Lives, move only when the wind moved. He would make himself smell of the forest or the plains. He would advance from shadow to shadow in the unpredictable and random way of life itself. He would watch the comings and goings of the people in the village so that he would appear to be one among them. In this way, he thought to sneak unseen, unheard, and unknown back into the village of the people who steal children. If found, he would release Tu-Swift again. One way or another, in his next meeting with Many Paths, he would bring her certain, if unpleasant, news. Or, he would never meet her again in this life. He might instead die trying to find the missing brother of Many Paths. 

—————————————————————-

The Myth of the Orange Man

The First Ring of Empathy (Start of Book 1 of the Myths of the Veritas)

The Start of Book 2 of the Myths of the Veritas

Author Page on Amazon. 

Myths of the Veritas: Battle Plans

09 Tuesday Oct 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cruelty, dialogue, empathy, greed, myths, politics, psychology, truth

IMG_2522

As POND MUD and ALT-R quickly discovered, hanging upside down soon produces a mind-numbing headache. Even the clever mind of ALT-R found it extremely difficult to concentrate. He needed a plan to convince this new leader of the Cupiditas not to kill him but instead to keep him alive until they conquered the Veritas. Of course, he also wanted to convince NUT-PI that he, being a Veritas native, should be made the under-King, the slave-driver, of the remaining Veritas. Keeping a line of thought from falling apart under the pain proved difficult. The required concentration at least kept him from focusing on the many small and large indignities he was forced to endure at the hands of the Cupiditas. Since their society was coordinated through anger and cruelty and power rather than cooperation and deliberation and common purpose, the chance to wreak indignities on others is something in which most of them found great glee. Luckily for ALT-R, POND MUD soon became their favorite target. Initially, this was mainly because he looked (and was) much better built and stronger than ALT-R. In addition, POND MUD was much more reactive and impulsive than ALT-R. Every time POND MUD strived with all his might to break free of his bonds, it encouraged the Cupiditas to even greater cruelty. 

On the morrow, NUT-PI ordered the two cut down. They were brought, with hands tied behind them, still naked, to his cabin and again forced to kneel on the cruel gravel for their audience. 

close up dry gravel grey

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“I have decided not to kill you. At least not yet. Indeed, we will use your knowledge to conquer and enslave the Veritas. If we prove successful and you two prove sufficiently useful in this endeavor, we will indeed set you atop the Veritas to have absolute power to do as you will excepting only that I, naturally, will rule over you two. Which of the two of you is of higher rank I leave for you to sort for yourselves. It seems that for now, we will have to trust each other. Now, go forth and discover these guard locations for yourselves. Come back here as soon as you know so you can guide us in our battle of conquest. Go and clean yourselves and then your clothes will be returned. You may break your fast with us and then make haste with your reconnaissance. I need hardly remind you that if this is a trick of the Veritas and you double cross me, you will killed in ways that are so painful that you will look back fondly on last night.” 

After getting cleaned, dressed, and fed, and listening to NUT-PI’s speech, the pair was sent off. NUT-PI made it clear that they were not to be further mistreated but were going to help the Cupiditas conquer the Veritas once and for all. According to the narrative that NUT-PI spun, he had convinced these two that they had better cooperate in defeating the Veritas or face dire and painful consequences. This irked ALT-R because he was given no credit for volunteering to do this. It was his idea, not NUT-PI’s. But, he reckoned, this was a small price to pay for becoming overlord of the tribe and avenging his banishment. POND MUD, for his part, only cared that he was no longer suffering pain and humiliation. He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. 

When ALT-R and POND MUD were well out of earshot of the Cupiditas (or so they believed), and well before approaching the lands of the Veritas, POND MUD began complaining to ALT-R about the disastrous and humiliating treatment they had received at the hands of NUT-PI. 

IMG_5092

“You say you’re so smart! You said we’d be welcomed! You didn’t even know anything about NUT-PI! That was horrible! You…”

“Stop, POND MUD. Stop. Yeah, things were a bit different that we expected, but we still got what we came for! You are going to get all the women of the Veritas that you want. Keep that in mind!” 

“Well, okay, but still. I still have a headache! But it’s a good torture to remember. And, I don’t trust NUT-PI. Not at all!” complained POND MUD. 

“Nor I! I don’t trust him either, POND MUD. But think about it. We will be the overlords and slave drivers of the Veritas. Even if half the Veritas are killed in battle, they will still be much more numerous than the Cupiditas. When the time, is right, we will kill NUT-PI and you and I will rule both tribes. The remaining Veritas will be happy to avenge the Cupiditas under our leadership. We’ll just lead a strike force. We’ll pretend we’re bringing some slaves to work for the Cupiditas and they will secretly be there to assassinate NUT-PI.”

“Really?” asked POND MUD. “Oh, that might be better. I don’t like NUT-PI much at all. Not after what he put us through.” 

ALT-R had doubts that the plan he had just invented and outlined would actually work. But he did plan to depose NUT-PI. ALT-R also hated him. He would have plenty of time to work out a foolproof assassination plan later; for now, his goal was simply to keep POND MUD in line. 

They walked on in silence for a time. Then, POND MUD began to complain again. “And, why didn’t KAVA NUT come and get us! He was supposed to be on the lookout!”

ALT-R shook his head. “No doubt, he was POND MUD. He did the right thing. What would you have had him do? Come into their camp with everyone watching and take on the whole of the Cupiditas to free us? That would have ruined the whole deal and all three of us would be dead by now.”

“Well, okay, but he still owes us. We vouched for him. It’s not our fault no-one believed us when he tried to rape Eagle Eyes. I don’t know why…anyway, he still owes us.”

ALT-R again wondered why he had not somehow found a smarter companion. Ideal would be someone he could still outsmart but not quite so dense as POND MUD. Anyway, I am on the path I am on, he thought. 

“Yes, he does,” continued ALT-R. “And, he’ll owe us still more after we take over. Because this time, we will make sure he has Eyes-of-Eagle just as you shall have She-of-Many-Paths and anyone else you desire.” 

IMG_9203

Soon, they met up with KAVA-NUT. “Remember, we need to find out the guard post positions and not be seen ourselves. That is of the highest importance. Stay away from the Veritas. We’ll meet back here in two day’s time. While we wait for dark, KAVA-NUT, let me recount to you what I learned about the Cupiditas. Then, the three of us must pool our knowledge to understand likely paths and positions that will allow us to find the guard positions. We must walk as quietly as a butterfly finds its way among the flowers.”

All afternoon they planned their reconnaissance missions. POND MUD was to discover guard positions deep in the forest itself for here, ALT-R considered POND MUD to have the least chance of being found out. KAVA-NUT was to determine guard positions in the field of broken rocks that abutted the forest to the north. ALT-R would do the same for that part of the forest nearest the Lake of Reeds. 

Just before the sun began to set, they set out in three different directions. They planned to meet again and combine their knowledge at dawn and then plan out another night’s mission before heading back to the Cupiditas with their knowledge. 

During this time, several of the initiates among the Veritas who had begun vying for the Rings of Empathy came to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives to say that they felt something was wrong, but they could not say exactly what.  After the last such, She Who Saves Many Lives called all of them all together for she too had felt that things were somehow “off” as though a great storm was coming, though the sky was clear, or as though the earth might be about to rearrange itself, though she felt no tremors. 

IMG_9138

Under the gentle leadership of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, they engaged in Dialogue. At one point they began to contemplate the pros and cons of habits and decided to change the way that lookouts are arranged as well as the locations. Instead of getting the very best vantage points, they decided they would suggest posting extra guards at vantage points for seeing those vantage points. They reckoned that POND MUD, ALT-R, and KAVA-NUT might want to wreak revenge. It was well-known among the Veritas, that those falsely accused never exhibit quite so much rage as those rightly accused. Among the Veritas, such false displays of outrageous anger were called something best translated as “emotional diarrhea.” Such had been exhibited in the lengthy council that eventually banished the three of them. Only ALT-R remained calm while both POND MUD and KAVA-NUT screamed and yelled that they were innocent. 

During the dialog, other observations were made about diversity of life, the value of habits, but also as to the vulnerability of habits. People such as POND MUD, KAVA-NUT and ALT-R, it was pointed out, are generally impatient. Also, they tend to look only at the surface of things rather than beyond to the substance. They discussed butterflies that look to have big eyes so that birds fear a poisonous snake. They concluded to invite the counsel of the one who is so good at surface, Fleet-of-Foot, to help them camouflage. At one point, knowing well the hearts of those three who were banished, they concluded that POND MUD and ALT-R and KAVA-NUT may attack soon.

Yet, several spoke that such an attack would be sure to fail since they were three and the Veritas were many. Being so few, they begin to wonder how they could possibly attack. They reckoned that they must have allies of some kind, whether bird, beast, plant, or a natural disaster like a fire or storm. They recalled the myth of the Orange Man who destroyed a whole people, as well as his own life, by making careless use of fire in a windstorm. 

night fire flame fire pit

Photo by Bob Clark on Pexels.com

They considered the nearby tribes. Could the three be in league with the fierce hunters to the north? But, they reminded each other that such hunters as these have always managed their own affairs. The desert travelers could pose another risk. But it was reasoned that they were too nomadic. She-of-Many-Paths suggested the nearby Cupiditas. But it was pointed out that they were too few. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives agreed that they were too few for a pitched battle, but she pointed out that the Banished Three have inside information on how the Veritas operate. Knowing such, The Banished Three could think to prevail. 

“ALT-R,” the shaman continued, “is our deepest enemy for he is very smart yet even he, like all, working alone, has blind spots. He failed to find the acorns so well as the possum,” explained She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, “because unlike his cousin, the possum, ALT-R came looking for rules that would allow him every single acorn and as a result obtained fewer. He promised me that he would learn from this, but I remain skeptical. He might have learned, but he may still assume that everything is far more orderly and predictable than it truly is. This is because underneath it all, he has overwhelming greed which makes him believe utterly that he deserves everything for himself. His bonds of friendship only last so long as he sees it as worthwhile. POND MUD and KAVA-NUT are the same. They could use inside knowledge to find how to attack us, but not if we keep changing our tactics and strategy. This will require the utmost of trust and empathy and good communication. Yet, such communication must remain hidden from The Banished Three.” 

Dialogue continued, “If only we could fly like bird,” said Eyes-of-Eagle. “Or, swing from vines? Though this is too risky and too overt.”

Trunk-of-Tree suggested, “We may scare birds with stones to thus reveal false positions. Would our cousins the birds object to using them thus for such a purpose?”

Shadow-Walker added, “But vines could be wound around the upper branches of many trees looking thus much like ordinary trees. Many such could be tugged this way and that to show the movement and direction of incoming enemies. Enemies may not always be human. As we said, in the Myth of the Orange Man, he started fires so that the people would flee leaving him free to loot all their possessions. Instead, his own greed caused his death and so many innocents as well. Surely, even ALT-R would not set a fire to kill everything. We do not know what kind of enemy we are facing so we must prepare for many such enemies.”

“There may be another way,” said She-Of-Many-Paths. “If any of the three are spotted, let me talk to them and see into their hearts.”

“That is very dangerous,” cautioned Shadow-Walker. 

“Yes it is,” admitted She-of-Many-Paths. “Yet, we may gain much information. Let us decide how to arrange it so that you and Trunk of Tree and Eagle Eyes are nearby.” 

“Why not just capture one of them alone and apply pain until their plans are revealed.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives said, “That may work, but such torturing may change us as well and turn us into something we do not wish to become. Often, people with plans that they think clever plans may reveal them if we listen patiently.”

IMG_9409

She-of-Man-Paths added, “But do not try to protect me unless absolutely necessary. It will be greatly preferred if they do not know you are there.” 

At the end of the dialog, She-of-Many-Paths declares that she sees a time when they may dialog with each other even when they are not in each other’s presence. This will enable them  to anticipate each other’s actions and, in this way, coordinate with each other as the birds in a flock anticipate each other’s actions and flow as a whole without collision. 

The initiates prepared over the next several days. They played several games that She-of-Many-Paths devised. In these games, they could only win when they guessed the actions of the others. At first, they guessed badly, but over the course of days, they became very accurate at such things as guessing the symbol or picture that each other wrote on a skin with charcoal and the number of pebbles each other held so that the total was some predetermined number.

Those among the Veritas who were expert at making arrowheads and spearheads made many such in preparation for a possible trouble. Those among the Veritas who were expert at finding vines did so. And, each of the Veritas, in their own way, made reluctant preparations for war.  

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives helped preparations in another way. She sent the initiates off in different directions into nearby woods and fields and had them meet up. Where this meeting would be was to be determined by an internal dialog with the others. They had to meet up at different places each time. At first, everyone met up in a different place. Then, pairs began to show up together. Eventually, they all met up at the same place, though each place was different.

During one such exercise, when they had nearly converged, She-of-Many-Paths heard someone tramping through the bushes in a noisy way that she recognized as the careless tromping of POND MUD. She stood still enough to become nearly invisible to many of the creatures in the forest. She alerted Shadow-Walker, Trunk-of-Tree, and Eagle Eyes through whistles. When She-of-Many-Paths was quite sure that her allies were in place, she moved to a likely spot near a path so that she might confront POND MUD. He walked right by her though his eyes were scanning back and forth in the dimming light for possible places for guard stations.  

She stepped out onto the path behind him and spoke. “POND MUD. You have broken the rules of banishment.” 

He whirled quickly, “Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”

“I am of the Veritas as you well know POND MUD as once were you as well. But no longer. To be found here now could be your death. You must leave.” 

POND MUD folded his arms defiantly and spread his legs. “Then kill me if you must. I have a much right to be here as anyone!”

She-of-Many-Paths slowly walked toward POND MUD looking into his eyes and seeing into his heart. “I know that ALT-R humiliated you. Why do you still work with him?”

mudface

At first, POND MUD denied it and said it was She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives who humiliated him by showing him a cabin that he wasn’t strong enough to destroy but ants were strong enough! “You listen to her tales and try to win her rings if you like. But you will see! You will see soon enough!”

She-of-Many-Paths spoke gently, “That was not done to humiliate you but to teach you the important lesson that though you are very strong for a person, you could accomplish so much more working with others rather than trying to overpower them with your strength. Now, you are alone and all your strength gains you nothing, for you failed to learn the lesson.”

POND MUD snorted. “That shows how much you know! I have plenty of helpers! ALT-R, KAVA-NUT…No, never mind. You will see.” 

She-of-Many-Paths shook her head sadly. “Still working with ALT-R? POND MUD, he will betray you just when you need him the most. He uses the strength of his brain to overpower you.” Here, she paused and looked hard into POND MUD’s eyes and soul.  “And humiliate you.”

POND MUD’s face grew red. “He wasn’t humiliating me! He was saving my life! I could only get out of the quicksand by blowing bubbles. That’s why I had to put my face in the mud. He saved my life!” 

“How does blowing bubbles in the mud save your life?”

“Well, it did, because here I am!” 

She-of-Man-Paths thought of various examples that might show the error of this logic, but realized that POND MUD was not now in a very receptive mood for lessons. She-of-Many-Paths recalled the lesson of training trees which She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had taught her long before she had begun her quest for the Rings of Empathy.

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had once led her to a very small cave in a forest not far from the Lake of Reeds. “Now, suppose,” she had said in her ever gentle voice, “that you wished to keep this cave secret only unto the two of us. How might you hide it for a very long time?” 

She-of-Many-Paths had said, “Well, I could fill the entrance with rocks. Though that would be much work now and presage further work whenever I wanted to use it. I could cover the entrance with sticks, or broken trees. That would be too obvious to an eye that looked at it with more than a glance. These nearby saplings would look more natural. She took one such sapling whose slender trunk plunged skyward and tried to push it over the entrance. The sapling, though young, was surprisingly strong so she put her hands around it and began climbing with her body below it thus bending the tiny trunk toward the cave entrance. As she climbed she pulled her whole weight down. Just as she felt she was making good progress, the sapling cracked and spilled her onto the ground. Now the sapling was nearly torn through. Oh, so sorry, tree. Well, that looks pretty obvious and could draw more attention toward the cave than before.” 

“Yes, She-of-Many-Paths. Indeed, you are correct. Your idea of using saplings to hide the entrance is a good one, but suppose you need not be in such a hurry.” 

“I could use vines to loop around it and move it just a little. Then, perhaps, I could come back in a week and bend it a little more. I could come back every week for a long time. Eventually, the tree would grow bent over the entrance but not be broken as my hurry has done. I could do that as well to another tree on the other side. I could, in this way, encourage both trees to bend farther and farther toward covering the entrance. Then, as they grew, in this healthy way, and grew more leaves and branches, the trees would cover the entrance in a natural way. Though this would be a good cover except when the cold of winter encouraged the trees to drop their leaves. Above though, are more vines which I could likewise and somewhat more easily encourage to grow down over the top. This would take some time, but after a few years, the cave would indeed be well-hidden from all but the cleverest of eyes.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had smiled her warm smile at She-of-Many-Paths and had suggested, “Perhaps we can test your idea. You continue with your plan for two dozen moons and then I will return with you and we will see how well-hidden this cave entrance has become.” 

She-of-Many-Paths had continued the slow bending of the trees and the slow encouragement of the vines from above. At first, there seemed little progress, but by the end of the 24 moons, the cave entrance was indeed quite well hidden, even in the dead of winter. 

IMG_2895

She-of-Many-Paths recalled this entire incident in a flash and knew that she had tried to bend the mind of POND MUD far too quickly. He was already convinced that ALT-R was his true friend and had saved his life. Her words had been true of course, but they only firmed the thoughts of POND MUD on his current deadly path. Yet, She-of-Many-Paths did not have 24 moons, and probably not even one to gently incline the perception of POND MUD toward a path of actual truth.    

“Indeed you are here, POND MUD, and I suspect that is more because of your own strength than because of ALT-R, but I have no wish to argue with you. You are indeed here, not far from the very people who have exiled you. Yet, you know the penalty for being here is death. You risk that. For what?”

“Not your business.”

“I don’t see ALT-R risking his life to find out this vital information you seek.” 

“He’s doing the same elsewhere. And if you kill us, you will have to answer to him and to NUT-PI.”

IMG_2578

“I have no desire to kill you POND MUD, and you are far too strong for me to overpower you.” At these words, She-of-Many-Paths felt a slight twinge of conscience. While it was strictly true that she had insufficient strength to overpower POND MUD, she had no doubt whatever that she could have dispatched him with one or both of the sharp daggers she had hidden on her person, even before her waiting and watching friends intervened. It was also true that she had no desire to kill POND MUD though she would have done so gladly if it could have saved the Veritas. And, it appeared from the stumbling words of POND MUD, and more so from those words he did not say but from darkness within him that he was trying to hide, that he and ALT-R  and NUT-PI, whoever that was, were up to no good. She was aware that, although she spoke literal truth, POND MUD might take those words in a way that planted seeds of untruth in his mind. Nonetheless, she persisted, “I certainly have no desire to kill your new friend NUT-PI whom I do not even know of.” This too was strictly true. She-of-Many-Paths ventured a guess, “Is he perhaps a friend of CHOFM?” 

“Friend?!” POND MUD snorted. “That shows how much you know! You think you’re so smart with all your rings of empathy! NUT-PI is a far stronger and younger king than CHOFM!” 

“Stronger than CHOFM? That is strong indeed, POND MUD, for CHOFM is known to be quite strong, possibly even stronger than you. What of this NUT-PI? Is he stronger than you?” 

POND MUD frowned, “I’m stronger. But NUT-PI…You’ll see.” 

She-of-Many-Paths, like the rest of the Veritas, felt great anger toward POND MUD for lying about KAVA-NUT. Yet, she could see that beneath his blustery anger and boasts was a boy quit unsure of himself. It reminded her of what She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives called a “Killing Circle.” The more he felt alone and incapable, the more he tried to rely on his strength and the strength of those who played to his ego, the more cut off he had felt — and still felt — from the tribe of the Veritas. And the more he had acted this way, and still acted so, the more the Veritas despised him. And, the more they despised him, the more alone and incapable he felt. 

{Translator’s Note}: We would typically call this a “positive feedback loop” in today’s cybernetic parlance, though a “positive feedback loop” can be a “virtuous cycle” as well as a “vicious cycle.” The Veritas had no special term, at least that I have discovered, for a “virtuous cycle.” I believe this is because they viewed the normal course of life to be a giant web of “virtuous cycles.” 

She-of-Many-Paths, true to her name, considered many ways to try to draw more information from POND MUD. Presently, she said quietly, “Do you think you were wronged by the Veritas when they banished you and KAVA-NUT and ALT-R?” 

“NO! I don’t care!” POND MUD answered loudly and quickly. Too quickly, and too loudly, it seemed to She-of-Many-Paths as though he had prepared himself for such a question; as though he could not acknowledge the hurt behind his anger and treachery. “Just wait! You’ll see what happens to those who defy us! You think you are so smart! All this empathy will do you no good! Rings indeed! They will be no match for spears and arrows!” 

“You may be right, POND MUD, but you had good insights yourself in the first trials. Speaking of which, where are your Rings of Empathy? Surely, you didn’t throw out such well made jewelry.” 

“I – it’s not for you to know. It doesn’t matter! I’ve wasted enough breath on you and the Veritas. The Cupiditas do not gab all day. We train and … you and I have a date. A date of reckoning! Till then, go seek you rings! I do not need mine!” 

In a flash of insight, She-of-Many-Paths said quietly, “Was it your idea to give NUT-PI your rings? Or, was it ALT-R’s?” 

Having She-of-Many-Paths look thus into his heart plucked at small remnants of his longings to return to the Veritas, but precisely because of this, it flared his anger. Fundamentally, he was angry with himself, or, more accurately that part of himself that still felt a connection to truth and love and life. The truth he wanted to avoid above all others and the truth he desperately wished to avoid at all costs was that he longed for the past, his past, a past which would never — and could never — come again. He had chosen a different path and he hated any hint that he had chosen the wrong path, particularly when it stirred such feelings of longing within himself. He felt such rage at himself, displaced onto She-of-Many-Paths that he could barely contain himself from killing or maiming or raping She-of-Many-Paths then and there. Instead, he bellowed like an animal and ran off through the forest. 

She-of-Many-Paths looked at his retreating figured and wondered whether banishment had been the correct punishment. Before following this line of thought very far however, her companions came onto the path where she stood. Shadow Walker was the first to arrive and the first to speak, “I could not hear all that you said. I could hear almost all of what POND MUD said though. Indeed, every beast in the forest could probably hear him. How did you make him so angry?” At these last words, Eyes-of-Eagle and Trunk-of-Tree arrived as well. She-of-Many-Paths spoke again, “I said nothing to make him angry, though at each point, he chose to make himself angry over what I said. I honestly think he feels sorry for his choices and sorry for pitching his tent with KAVA-NUT and possibly with ALT-R though he believes, or at least part of him believes, that ALT-R saved his life. 

Trunk-of-Tree laughed. “I heard that! By making him blow bubbles in the mud?! What a fool!” 

Eyes-of-Eagle shook her head. “I knew that POND MUD was not so bright as some but I never thought he would fall for such a blatant lie as that!” 

“Indeed,” said She-of-Many-Paths, “but don’t forget ALT-R is smart and had plenty of time to bend his mind. Anyway, we should focus on what we learned. Unless, POND MUD is a far better artist of camouflage than even the bullfrog and walking stick, he and ALT-R, and KAVA-NUT are indeed in league with the Cupiditas. They are going to try, not to kill us all, but to enslave us or at least some of us. Apparently, CHOFM has been vanquished by a new king, NUT-PI and POND MUD has given away his Rings of Empathy as a gift to solidify their fealty. Probably, ALT-R gave his up as well.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle shook her head, “I find it hard to believe that ALT-R would honestly pledge his fealty to anyone. It is not the shape of his ambition. That shape always leads to himself at the top of any hill such as the people may occupy.” 

She-of-Many-Paths nodded gravely. “Yes, I also think it so. I believe that each of these are playing a game of make-believe. Each strives to make the others believe that they are faithful to a common cause when in reality, each has a different interest and the only thing they share is that they will use each other only so long as it suits their purpose. After such a time as the Cupiditas were to enslave us, they would betray each other. It may be that there is a way to reveal this. Meanwhile, we must prepare and redouble our efforts for I feel from POND MUD that this attack will come soon. We must redouble our preparations and share all that we have learned.”

IMG_7773——————————————-

Books on Amazon. Author Page

“The Winning Weekend Warrior” – strategy, tactics & the mental game for all sports

“Turing’s Nightmares” – speculative fiction on “The Singularity”

“Fit in Bits” – describes numerous ways to work exercise into daily activities for more fitness and more fun.

“Tales from an American Childhood” recounts early experiences and relates them to contemporary issues and events.

← Older posts

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • April 2026
  • March 2026
  • February 2026
  • January 2026
  • December 2025
  • November 2025
  • October 2025
  • September 2025
  • August 2025
  • July 2025
  • June 2025
  • May 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • February 2025
  • January 2025
  • December 2024
  • November 2024
  • October 2024
  • September 2024
  • July 2024
  • April 2024
  • March 2024
  • February 2024
  • January 2024
  • December 2023
  • August 2023
  • July 2023
  • May 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • May 2015
  • January 2015
  • July 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013

Categories

  • AI
  • America
  • apocalypse
  • cats
  • COVID-19
  • creativity
  • design rationale
  • dogs
  • driverless cars
  • essay
  • family
  • fantasy
  • fiction
  • HCI
  • health
  • management
  • nature
  • pets
  • poetry
  • politics
  • psychology
  • Sadie
  • satire
  • science
  • sports
  • story
  • The Singularity
  • Travel
  • Uncategorized
  • user experience
  • Veritas
  • Walkabout Diaries

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • petersironwood
    • Join 662 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • petersironwood
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...