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Tag Archives: Cupiditas

Myths of the Veritas: Inversnaid Revisited

06 Friday Mar 2020

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

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Cupiditas, death, ego, greed, legends, life, myth, Resistance, stubbornness, truth, Veritas

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Trunk of Tree led the small group through the fields of wildflowers buzzing with bees and up the  grassy foothills that marked the edge of the lands the Veritas considered as home. Jaccim and Cat Eyes came next, each leading a pack horse. Cat Eyes discovered that she had a fondness for horses and, oddly enough, for Jaccim himself. Each day of the journey, Jaccim became more familiar with the Veritas language, thanks to tutoring by Cat Eyes. She spoke with Jaccim partly to learn more of his people, but this proved difficult. Jaccim had memorized a few verses that the Z-Lotz had insisted everyone learn, but he could not explain what the verses meant. 

In fact, Jaccim knew almost nothing about the history of his own people, nor how they came to be aligned with the Z-Lotz. Cat Eyes discovered that Jaccim had learned how to handle horses from his own father and uncle. He had ridden from an early age and had taken part in a number of different raids when he was younger — raids to steal children for the Z-Lotz. To her astonishment, Cat Eyes learned that Jaccim had never asked himself why they had been stealing children, or what was to become of the children once they were delivered to the Z-Lotz let alone how these cruel predations ravaged the children or their families. It was just what he was told to do so he did it. Cat Eyes sighed and shook her head. She considered trying to give some insight to Jaccim about what her life had been like but decided this was not the time. They were relying on Jaccim to find a path through to her homeland. If she were successful in having Jaccim see and feel just how reprehensible his actions had been, how might he react? She did not know; but she didn’t want to chance his bolting with the horses, which could have been one possible reaction. 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Sometimes, Jaccim was silent for long periods of time. Sometimes, Jaccim asked Trunk of Tree to stop for a moment. Jaccim would close his eyes, apparently in some sort of inner dialogue with himself. Then, he would open them and scan their surroundings. Then, he would point and nod. Trunk of Tree would continue down the path chosen. When Cat Eyes grew tired of her tutoring, she would drop back a few paces to chat with Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah. She had learned a few words of the language of the Nomads of the South when she was in the City of the Z-Lotz, but she was learning much more from them. In particular, she asked about various kinds of plants, animals, and physical features that she saw. When she learned a new word, she would store it in her head. She began to notice as the journey wore on that the words of the Nomads and the words of the Veritas and the words of the ROI and Z-Lotz, while all different, were not so different as they might have been. 

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At one point, their small group rested under a large, spreading oak which dominated a long slope of golden grass. Called “oak” in Veritas, the Z-Lotz word was “oag” and the Southern Nomads called it “oh-kah.” At first, Jaccim only referred to the tree in terms of the ROI expression: “hard to work wood tree”, but at last, he recalled that some called it “oat-tah.” While Cat Eyes carried on her linguistic queries, the rest of the group began to prepare a lunch. Jaccim tethered the horses to a low hanging branch. Fleet-of-Foot, who had been mainly walking with Easy Tears, jumped up and grabbed a branch, pulled himself up, and soon clambered to the crown. From here, hidden in the thick summer foliage, he peered around in all directions. He also cupped his hands around his ears while spreading his ears out slightly. Thus able to hear much fainter sounds, he slowly turned his head, listening as well as watching for any possible armies, game, or … what was that sound? As he turned toward the still-distant Twin Peaks, he heard a slight sound of … rushing water? It seemed to be coming from the nearby foothills. These hills were similar to the ones they had just left, but grew steeper and larger. Somewhere in those hills, fresh running water gurgled over rocks and sang its song loudly enough for him to hear from his high perch. Convinced that they were in no immediate danger, he climbed down to have his share of the lunch and told the group of his discovery. 

The next morning, after they climbed the top of a hill, they could all hear the roar of water and soon, they could see the sun glinting off the rushing water in the distance. Jaccim confirmed that long ago, the raiding party had also found this stream. It took most of the day to reach the water. The “stream” that Jaccim had mentioned was more properly called a river now. Cat Eyes pointed to the high peaks before them and, they were able to see tiny threads of silver cascading down the sides of the mountains. Some of that distant water would eventually find its way into this river, she reckoned. They refilled their water skins. As they sat around their small evening campfire telling their stories and making their plans, they were treated to a distant show of lighting and a reverberating thunder. The horses, despite being tethered near the coolly flowing water, paced nervously and nickered. 

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Trunk of Tree, who had grown weary of stories and plans at last said, “Let’s get to sleep. I’ll take the first watch. Then, Lion Slayer. Then, Fleet of Foot. We leave early in the morning.”

Jaccim shook his head, “We’re all tired. We have a long journey tomorrow. Many days after. We must move away from the river.” 

Trunk of Tree grunted. “Absurd. I’m in charge. This is a perfect spot. The horses can drink their fill. We cannot easily be seen. There is game. Sleep now. Walk in the morning.” 

Cat Eyes glanced at Jaccim. He was frowning. His mouth moved but no words came. She asked in ROI, “Why should we move, Jaccim.” 

Jaccim spoke quickly in ROI and supplemented his speech with sign language. “The rain on the mountain will melt more ice and bring much water. This water — or much of it — will come riding down the mountain like a herd of horses or buffalo and trample everything beneath it. We must move to higher ground or be trampled.” 

Cat Eyes translated for the group. 

Trunk of Tree held up his hand part-way through. “Absurd. No. We are safe here.” 

Cat Eyes could see that Trunk of Tree was “digging in” and ignoring the ideas of others. He was the sort of person, she saw, who found it particularly difficult to “change his mind” once he had made a decision. She shook her head and closed her eyes so that Trunk of Tree could not see her rolling them in disgust at his intransigence. 

Cat Eyes spoke in her softest, most enticing voice. “Trunk of Tree. You are our leader. I have no idea whether there is danger here. How can we know? But I do know something of the power of water. When we escaped from the war party that came to the burned village of the ROI, we rode hollowed logs. We almost went over a cliff but, thanks to luck, and Jaccim’s quick thinking, we were able to get to shore just in time. The logs were big, but when they went over the water cliff, those logs smashed onto rocks below as easily as I can break a twig — or, Trunk of Tree, in your case, as easily as you can break a large branch.” 

Trunk of Tree shook his head again. He looked at Lion Slayer. “Have you ever seen or heard of such a sudden river coming?” 

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Lion Slayer answered, “I have not seen such. We have too little water. In my life, I have never seen too much. But we do have stories about such. Too much water comes too quickly and kills plants, animals, and even strong trees, stout in trunk, have fallen, according to the stories. But no, I have not seen such myself.” 

“But I have. And, so too have you seen this, Trunk of Tree, or at least the aftermath.” It was the quiet clear voice of Easy Tears.

Trunk of Tree frowned at her. “What are you talking about?” 

Easy Tears smiled in the fading campfire light. “I am talking about the Battle of the Three Paths. Eagle Eyes devised a way to make much water come at once and washed away quite a few of the Cupiditas warriors. Some of the Veritas may have forgotten. Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah were not there, but you might remember, Trunk of Tree. Do you?” 

Trunk of Tree considered. “Maybe something. I was busy fighting. Perhaps. But I doubt it could have actually toppled the warriors. Not if they were strong.” 

Fleet of Foot nodded, “I saw it with my own eyes. It was something I will never forget. One minute a throng of Cupiditas soldiers were running across a shallow stream and suddenly the whole lot of them were knocked off their feet and taken away from us. Listen!” Fleet of Foot pointed upstream. The others turned and listened. In the quiet, they heard the horses whinnying but also stomping the ground and jerking at their tethers. 

Jaccim added, “Horses know danger. Horses know danger. Good ears!”  

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Cat Eyes cupped her hands behind her ears. “NOW! Move!” 

Trunk of Tree stood and threw his arms in the air and shouted, “This is ridiculous! Absurd! It’s only water! I don’t hear anything!” 

The others grabbed what they could and scrambled to higher ground. Jaccim however, went first to the horses, untied them and swung his leg up around one of them and grabbed hold of the other by the rope that necklaced the neck of the other. 

The voice of Cat Eyes rang out, “Trunk of Tree! Come! We need you to lead us! Don’t get swept away like the Stupiditas!” 

“I’m staying right here! You are all fools! I don’t….” 

The group had all climbed a nearby hill but there was no sign of Jaccim, Trunk of Tree, or the horses. Now, everyone could hear the roaring water bearing down on their location. Jaccim rode up astride the largest horse, still carrying water skins. He led another horse and across the back of that horse, Trunk of Tree lay senseless. 

Jaccim looked at Cat Eyes and shouted in ROI to be heard above the roar. “Sorry. I had to knock him out. For his own good. Will he try to kill me when he wakes?”  

Everyone now looked down at the valley right below them. In the dim light of the moon they could see, not a river, but a wall galloping down the valley. It was a wall not just of water but of ice and logs and mud and rocks as well! It destroyed everything in its path. 

Cat Eyes screamed back, “I won’t let him!” But she could barely hear her own voice. She wasn’t sure Jaccim could make out what she was saying. She used sign language to emphasize her promise of protection, but no-one was watching. All stared down below, mesmerized by the chaos beneath them. The riverbed swelled. The wall of water passed them and became a mere churning sea of blackish brown water swirling in the moonlight. 

Cat Eyes slowly shook her head and gritted her teeth. Trunk of Tree, their supposed “leader” of this expedition had almost gotten the whole lot of them killed. And why, she wondered. The answer came to her unbidden. His pride, she thought. His stupid pride. He made up his mind without knowing the facts. Then, when he heard the facts, he refused to listen. As though his ignorance was somehow better than facts. And that ignorance and vainglorious vanity had almost destroyed all of them and instead of connecting with her people, his stupidity has nearly cost them … the Veritas might not have ever found out what had happened to them. She might never have seen Tu-Swift or Many Paths ever again. And the Veritas would have to face the Z-Lotz with seven fewer warriors and without the horses and without the knowledge to be gained by connected with the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. 

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She considered killing Trunk of Tree herself. It would be easy enough to do while he was unconscious. She knew exactly where to press hard on his neck. It had worked on one of her worst tormentors in the Z-Lotz village. She had gotten away with that because that monster, known as M-M-M, was old and terribly fat and unfit. Everyone had dismissed his death as natural. She had left no marks on his body. And she had even pretended to grieve for him … as though she had been desirous of the attentions of that cruel monster man. But no-one would believe someone as strong and fit and young as Trunk of Tree died in his sleep. If anything, they would blame Jaccim for hitting him too hard on the head in order to knock him out. It would be seen as accidental but — they were arguing right before. Too risky, perhaps. But how else to take down a leader who nearly led his own expedition to death for no reason, other than his own stupid pride at being unwilling to admit his own ignorance? Disgusting. 

Trunk of Tree’s idea of “leadership” was to impose his will on others. Wasn’t that exactly the same as old M-M-M — imposing his will on her? His pleasure had seemed to come, not from the sex itself really, but from making her engage in sex against her own will. She saw Trunk of Tree as nothing more than a younger version of M-M-M and she desperately wanted to kill him in his sleep. Once he awoke, it would be much more dangerous. But it was also dangerous to let him stay their leader. Why had Many Paths even chosen him to “lead” this expedition. She must have known what kind of a person he was. Leader! Hah! 

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

Inversnaid (by Gerald Manly Hopkins)

 

Aftermath: Feast & Celebration of Thanks for the Great Tree of Life

25 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

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Cupiditas, environment, ethics, greed, leadership, life, myth, politics, story, truth, Veritas

Aftermath: Feast & Celebration of Thanks for the Great Tree of Life

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When the Veritas scouts had determined that no rogue soldiers of the Cupiditas remained near the lands where the Veritas roamed, and preparations for a great feast had been made, all the tribe, save a handful of lookouts, gathered at the Center Place for a Great Celebration. The Veritas celebrated victory of battle; they celebrated even more that they have avoided making two of three enemies; they celebrated the teamwork they had experienced both in preparations and in the midst of battle; they celebrated that such teamwork was the gift of many generations of Veritas before them who had fought long and hard to reward cooperation and true communications. The Veritas celebrated as well the plentiful food for the feast which also sprung from the gift of cooperation among the people. They celebrated their venerable leader, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, who once again exemplified her name. 

After songs, and dances; after contests of speed and strength, came the riddling contest. 

  • {Translator’s Note:} Again, the actual myths contain what appears to be lengthy and detailed descriptions of technique and suggestions for such contests. Translating these is virtually impossible. For instance, as best I can tell, the Veritas, when describing athletic contests do not use body parts such as leg, thigh, or quads. I estimate somewhere between 1000 and 10,000 names for body parts and for different states of relaxation versus tenseness, fatigue, resiliency, and so on.  I will make a rather lame attempt with respect to the riddling contest which is the last before the oration of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Many of the riddles depend on rhyme and wordplay so they either make no sense when directly translated into English or have no rhyme or rhythm. (In other words, they are from the beginning of Milo’s adventures on the other side of The Phantom Tollbooth. Instead, I give several examples that I constructed for English that illustrate the same general point. 
  • “The more you give me away, the more I stay. Tie me down to make me drown. Let me go and I will grow. What am I?” Love, many shouted as one, for this was a well-known riddle meant to prime the pump. 
  •  
  • The next one was more original. “When I take some, it makes me dumb. When I take more, I close each door. At last I hate all, and that’s when I fall. What am I?” Here, the people suggested many answers: greed, Cupiditas, NUT-PI, addiction, bully, ALT-R. The most-favored answer was “Greed.” 
  • At last, there were about 30 such riddles. I won’t translate most of them.
  • Frankly, the last one of the evening makes no sense to me at all. If there are any other Veritas scholars out there who can shed light on it, please do so in comments. 
  • “Most everyone has me, when friend skins their knee. Many forget in peril or trouble, but that’s just when you need me, even double. I’m hardest to find, when angst fills your heart, and finding me then is a wonderful art. If you can see what others see, then, through them, you will all see me. What am I?”

The Veritas feast had been designed by many collaborators and among them were Fleet of Foot and Eyes of Eagles. The Veritas always paid attention to making their food beautiful as well as tasty. This feast lay before the hungry Veritas in a beautiful arrangement of forms and colors and textures. The red of beets and the gold of corn set off the warm reddish brown of seared venison and poached salmon. Wild lettuce and dandelion bordered each plate, each sprinkled with a handful of blueberries.  

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At long last, everyone was sated of food, drink, and entertainment. The Veritas now wished to hear from their leader, the heart of the tribe, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. She strode up a short ramp so that she could be seen and heard. 

“Today is a wonderful day. As is every day that we are alive. The people are our part of the Great Tree of Life and we have recently avoided a dreadful fate – being subjugated to the Cupiditas. We were successful in avoiding two great battles and that is saving many lives indeed, but not due to me. What I most happy about is that much of these victories came from the cleverness and teamwork of some wonderful youth among us. Teaching is a difficult thing indeed and three among us took teaching meant for doing good and turned it for doing evil. This is a great failing on my part and for all of us. And, we will spend much time and speak much about this and discover how we might help prevent such in the future. But for tonight, let us celebrate when such teaching does work. Of course, the reason it works, is these students, these acolytes took the learning to heart and even improved upon it. 

“Eyes of Eagle learned from watching such as eagles and hawks how their shape changed according to purpose and thus she began to study shapes in many ways beyond what I could ever teach her. She has added to our learning for all time. And, she probably killed more Cupiditas warriors through her damming and releasing the river through shapes. As well, she took the example of teaching wolves and made a weapon of a bird! She also devised a trap that caused many Cupiditas warriors to lose their footing and fall into that carefully camouflaged death. Fleet of Foot helped to make those traps look to be ordinary terrain. Trunk of Tree suggested using drums to communicate with POND MUD and thereby to the Nomads of the South. And Eyes of Eagles knew just where to place those drums to enable greatest reach of sound. 

“Here is another lesson for all the people. You see how it is with Eyes of Eagle. She has studied shapes and thought much about how shape influences all things. Perhaps she has studied and learned more than any other Veritas. So, she invents things to help us all because she made her knowledge richer than all before her.  

“As you all know, I began seeking a successor and we chose twelve promising from among the Veritas youth. As time went on, it became clear that one among us has a very good heart indeed along with an excellent mind. I believe she will be a wonderful leader among you. And she is of us all. And we are all part of her. And she well knows this. I want to present She-Of-Many-Paths with the Seventh Ring of Empathy and suggest her as your leader should she survive the vision draught of death and life. She shall be named henceforth, She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives.”

She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives knew this to be her cue and ascended the ramp. Her long black silky hair hung down her back in a long straight line that contrasted with her blue and white patterned dress. He neck and hair were adorned by turquoise beadwork. On the little, ring, and middle fingers of each hand, she wore a ring – one of the Rings of Empathy that she had earned. She knelt before She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, who again spoke. 

“This woman has indeed saved many lives. She has demonstrated that she has a gift of empathy which she continually improves. Moreover, she has demonstrated that she knows to use this gift for the good of all, not just for herself, nor indeed, even for her people but for the good of all who are among and part of the Great Tree of Life. She is still able to use her empathy when many would find their fear or their anger blocked all such ability. She reached out on many paths to foster life when many would have chosen instead a giant wall to keep unwanted feelings out. I therefore bestow upon her the Seventh Ring of Empathy.”

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives gently took the hand of She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives and lifted it. She placed upon the index finger of the left hand, a ring with three interleaved cords of woven gold; one reddish as fire coals, one white as summer clouds, and one the yellow of goldenrod. Atop the ring was a single large opal that seemed to sparkle of dewdrops rain-bowing in the sun. Then, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and her protege stood facing each other for a moment before the older woman reached back and took a gnarled wooden mug and handed it to Many Paths & Many Lives Saved and asked her loudly so that all might hear: “She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives, do you take upon yourself the awesome responsibility to be First Among Us, to lead us in times of peace and times of trouble; to put the Tree of Life ahead of the Veritas, and to put the Veritas before your own interest? Will you lead us, should you survive the sacred drink of Life and Death.” 

“I do and I shall.” She took the gnarled mug and put the cup to her lips. Despite the name, she had some doubt that it might really kill her, but she owned it remained a distinct possibility. The taste was bitter, funky, and even sweet, although in a rancid sort of way. She thought it more likely that the drink would make her ill or even alter her perception much the way tobacco made her slightly more aware of tiny details of color and form. Instead, she felt normal enough, though taller of course; she was much taller in fact. But so was everything else. She began to see that what she thought of as individual people such as Shadow Walker, who she realized suddenly was an incredibly handsome fellow. He really is, she thought. But he’s so tall! We are all so gigantic. We are each tribes ourselves. No, we are tribes of tribes. And, we are all interconnected — to each other — and to our past — and to our future! 

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As she looked out upon the crowd of nation-sized people she realized how incredibly different each person was and yet how similar each person was and how similar every living thing is to every other living thing. She could see or imagine how this same ceremony was carried out decades ago to choose She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and that every leader had done the same for a thousand years. She found herself falling, falling, down a long tunnel, but soon discovered that she was not really falling so much as floating and she could will herself to float up the tunnel as well as down. As she floated up the tunnel, she continued upward until she seemed to be floating high above the Center Place of the Veritas. She could see all the lands where the Veritas dwelled and hunted. She could see the lands of the Cupiditas, the Sabra, and the Fierce and Formidable Fighters of the North. 

She could see other lands and other peoples. The lands became filled with people. There were people everywhere and particularly along the coasts of giant lakes and along the banks of tremendous rivers. These people had campfires everywhere but the campfires did not flicker and smoke. It gladdened her heart to see the people so numerous and prolific. She knew not how she knew, but she knew somehow that this prosperity and reach of the people came from the Veritas, or more accurately, not her tribe of Veritas precisely, but from the spirit of the Veritas that valued the search for truth, the feeling of love and comity, the desire to be fair and foster the great and varied Tree of Life. Then, her heart sank again, for she felt, rather than saw, that the Cupiditas too survived and infected the people with the diseases of greed and cruelty.

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 The people forgot the very nature of life itself in their pursuit of more … more what? It didn’t seem to matter! The people were pursuing more of everything and in that greed killing the roots to the tree of life! Birds were dropping from the sky. Fish were dying in the streams. Trees fell and burned by the thousands. The people were destroying the very Tree of Life whose branches they lived in! Surely, this cannot be! Even the Cupiditas are not that greedy! It seemed to her that the Cupiditas had stolen knowledge gained by the Veritas and for some unknown and unknowable reason, had convinced people everywhere to replace the beautiful Tree of Life with some unknown material that was ugly though shiny. The water that people drank contained teeny pieces of this shiny material and it made all the people sick. Yet, they made more and more of the shiny material until it was even in the air that they breathed and this too sickened many people. 

factory smoke

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Now, from far away, she could hear the voice of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, “Daughter? Are you all right?” She turned, and there she was standing again on the raised platform right beside She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives. She looked out and saw the Veritas looking at her as though nothing unusual had happened. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She had survived. She had become the leader of the Veritas and the people acknowledged her with a mighty roar. She held her arms above her head and spread her fingers outward to make that sign that the Veritas used to signal the Tree of Life. She felt some elation, but also a sense of great responsibility. Though she was now the leader, she wanted nothing more than to speak privately with She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives. She smiled out at the people, holding her hands high once more and once more spreading her fingers widely as though she were a tree drinking in the sunshine. She glanced at She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives and whispered, “I had the strangest dream just now. How long was I out?” 

She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives looked at and into the new leader, and whispered back, “You did not lose consciousness at all, though you shook your head oddly for a split second. It was the same with me.” 

“Later, may we speak of these visions?” Though She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives was now the leader, she still felt very much an apprentice or acolyte. 

“Indeed, we shall. Now, go among the people and receive their blessings. Later, we will speak of such.”

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Herein lies a portal to many worlds.  

The Cupiditas

30 Sunday Sep 2018

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

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Tags

Cupiditas, empathy, greed, myth, politics, power, treachery, truth, Veritas

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{Translator’s Note}: As has probably been obvious to the reader, translation into English from the legends of the Veritas is a non-trivial task; not only is the language different; so are the times, technology, and culture. Nonetheless, these difficulties pale compared with the next translation which mainly involves a different tribe, known to the Veritas as “The Cupiditas.” In what follows, I rely on several sources of scholarship as well as what the Veritas had to say about The Cupiditas. Where the difficulties become nearly unsurmountable, however, are those fragments of oral history passed along by The Cupiditas themselves. I won’t bother to recount all the difficulties, because doing so seems too much like whining. After all, I am well fed, living in a house with central air conditioning and heating and able to avail myself of modern technology. I do want to let, you, the reader, know how dubious these translations are however, not to gain your sympathy, but to alert you to numerous possible inaccuracies. 

First, the Veritas valued truth extremely highly and had developed numerous strategies to preserve the accuracy of their oral history. By contrast, the Cupiditas, as you will soon see, valued power, not truth. As a consequence, every time there was a regime change, those in power revised, re-interpreted, and redacted, insofar as possible, the oral history of the Cupiditas to make out “their side” to be the “good guys” and the powers most recently deposed to be the “bad guys.” 

Second, the difficulty in translating the myths of the Veritas often consists of finding expressions subtle enough in English to handle the many shades of gray that the Veritas routinely used in such matters as “causality” and “responsibility.” Native English speakers, for instance, see nothing problematic in statements such as: “Mary was sad and it was John’s fault.” Is this sadness temporary, permanent? Is it constant, cyclical? Is it really plausible that Mary’s sadness has zero to do with anything other than John? And, what does it mean to say it was John’s ‘fault’ exactly and solely? I may write such a sentence so that English speakers understand it given the current level of sophistication of our culture. The actual Veritas descriptions, however, are always much more nuanced. Causality is always characterized among the Veritas as a web of interconnections and never as a linear set of linkages. By contrast, there are very few subtleties in the language of the Cupiditas. They seldom attempt to use what we would call persuasion. People are arranged in a strict power hierarchy and whenever a person higher in this hierarchy states something as fact it is supposed to be obeyed, retold, and believed regardless of how absurd or wantonly cruel it might be. If, a few years later, violence leads to a repositioning of the power hierarchy, what was “true” before is now often “false” and now people were expected to obey, retell, and believe even the precise opposite of what they passionately believed weeks before. Since most adults among the Cupiditas had experienced several such “shifts” of what was “acceptable belief,” it seems as though either they had become incapable of knowing the “truth” or they had become too jaded to care.  

Third, as I mentioned, some of what follows is from what is certainly the much more accurate and less self-serving oral history of the Veritas. They were apparently even more mystified by the cultural choices of the Cupiditas than we are and that cast some doubt on how much the Veritas descriptions can be relied up. That the Cupiditas were less well off on almost every dimension is borne out by the archeological evidence. Yet, I remain suspicious that even the truth-seeking and empathic Veritas could ever be completely accurate in their recounting of what happened among the Cupiditas. 

Fourth, Chomsky notwithstanding, in many cases, the Cupiditas did not appear necessarily to speak or even think in complete sentences. Here, I am not referring to the kinds of ellipsis or implicit commands that occur in English. While eating at the table with you, I might lift up my bread, catch your eye and say, “Butter?” meaning, “Would you please pass the butter (so that I can butter my bread).” This is understood by people in our culture. Among the Cupiditas, however, for an underling to use such language with one of a higher status would be considered highly insulting. Instead, the lower status person would be expected to say something along the lines of: “Oh, excellent one! Would it please you to allow me to partake of the butter and thereby increase my great debt to you?” On the other hand, a person of higher rank might well merely speak the word, “Butter.” In this case, it might or might not be an implicit request to pass the butter. It was intentionally vague and ambiguous. Lesser ranked people would silently pass glances trying to guess upon whom the honor of passing the butter had been bestowed. If too long a time passed, the high ranking person might suddenly grab the butter and smash it against the wall or into the face of a nearby lackey. On the other hand, if someone passed the butter, the higher ranking person, might say, “NO! TELL me about butter, idiot!” In other words, the higher ranking person would be intentionally vague so that no matter what was said or done, the other person would be wrong. One of many Cupiditas leaders who reveled in this game was the one called, NUT-PI.  

Legends of the Cupiditas: NUT-PI’s Plan. 

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Although there were many changes and variations in the legends of the Cupiditas, on one thing these legends all seemed to agree. The rather barren and desolate lands that the Cupiditas lived on now were the result of treachery and trickery on the part of the Veritas. Indeed, nearly all of the many problems that beset the Cupiditas were blamed on the Veritas while only a few were blamed on more distant and somewhat less prosperous tribes. For their part, the Veritas were amazed that the Cupiditas survived at all, given their insistence on warping and even denying the truth. The Veritas had learned long before even their most distant legends not to over-fish, over-hunt, or over-harvest in an area and thus destroy the very things that brought sustenance to the tribe. Moreover, when the Veritas built or hunted or gathered, they were always trying to try out new ways and to improve on how they did things. Usually, new ideas did not improve things but occasionally new ideas were an improvement and these were kept. While the Veritas worked and silence was not demanded by the character of the enterprise (e.g., stalking shy creatures), they talked or sang or chanted. By contrast, the Cupiditas tribe did the tasks of their tribe under the constant harassment and belittling of those in charge and new ideas were generally dismissed out of hand even on the rare occasions when they were brought up at all. This is not to say that innovation was absent in the Cupiditas. Apparently, NUT-PI himself rose to power by inventing a new way of killing. Rather than oust his opponents with spear or club, he poisoned them. He often killed them without their even knowing that he was vying for power over them. In this way, he quickly became the most feared among the Cupiditas. According to NUT-PI, those who opposed him angered the gods and those gods therefore destroyed his enemies, invariably striking them with “mysterious illnesses” causing them to go blind while their tongues turned black and their limbs grew ever more weary till at last they fell upon the ground writhing in pain and soon expired.  

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Previous leaders of the Cupiditas had risen to power through a combination of physical strength and guile. As they grew older, their physical strength began to wane slightly and the younger from among the Cupiditas vied among themselves for power and position until one felt strong enough and skilled enough to challenge the current leader.

Sometimes, the challenger would become the new leader and sometimes they would be killed outright or at least maimed to the point of no longer posing a threat. To the Veritas, such a procedure for choosing a new leader seemed preposterous! The chosen leader of the Cupiditas, always a man, could compel any woman among the Cupiditas to mate with him. Initially, this custom seemed to increase the average strength among the Cupiditas. However, the resulting inbreeding inevitably led to numerous health issues among the tribe. NUT-PI did not particularly enjoy physical combat and instead spent many of his days alone capturing small animals and discovering which plant tisanes had the most profound effect. At one point, he challenged the Cupiditas leader to mortal combat with spears. NUT-PI covered the spearhead of his weapons with an extract of hellebore mixed with datura. 

As was customary, in the rough-hewn stone arena before the “contest” began, NUT-PI offered two identical spears to the leader. As the leader reached for the first one, NUT-PI deftly slashed the hand of the old leader, CHOFM. It was not a deep cut, but sufficient poison leached into his bloodstream to cause weakness, confusion, and partial paralysis. A few quick thrusts and NUT-PI fatally wounded CHOFM. Despite his older age, CHOFM was much stronger, quicker, and more skillful than NUT-PI and would have easily won a “fair fight” with any sort of weapon. The tribe of Cupiditas, however, immediately hailed the new leader, as was their custom. 

{Translator’s Note}: The events described above are one of those many places where the worldview of the Veritas differs significantly from that of the Cupiditas. The legends of the Cupiditas do not distinguish between a contest won by treachery and a contest won by skill or good luck or superior strength. The Cupiditas already had a long tradition of pledging instant allegiance to whoever is the leader without any regard to how they got there. 

After many moons, NUT-PI proved himself to be a ruthless leader, even by comparison to other leaders of the Cupiditas. In order to keep the peace among the tribe, since he offered nothing in the way of true leadership, he roused the Cupiditas to a fever pitch of hatred for all that they had {supposedly] lost to the Veritas. 

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The next year, the winter seemed to last into spring and then into early summer. Hunting proved sparse and NUT-PI feared that the anger he had aroused might morph so as to be directed at him. Indeed, he rightly thought that fighting the far-away Veritas might seem to the people of the Cupiditas to be much more difficult than challenging and replacing their own leader. Also, the Veritas were known by all to be both more numerous and more prosperous than the Cupiditas. An all-out war against the Veritas would have been madness and although they spoke of it publicly as though it would be an easy victory, each of the Cupiditas secretly knew such a war would be hopeless. For his part, NUT-PI kept a close watch for any signs of a youth who might grow strong and skillful enough to challenge his power. He planned to poison any such youth before he became strong enough and confident enough to issue the challenge.

Such a challenge as was awaited by NUT-PI did not come. Instead, after the long, cold winter, the mandatory morning adoration songs for the leader of the Cupiditas were interrupted by two such ones as were not expected at all. By their garb, they were known to be of the Veritas. The Cupiditas thought it both stupid and brave for two such ones to walk right into the camp of the Cupiditas. Of course, the Veritas, while knowing that their customs were quite different from those of the Cupiditas, had no inkling of how heavily reviled they had been by NUT-PI. So, those two from the Veritas did not suspect that approaching the Cupiditas would be particularly dangerous. 

As they walked deeper into the Cupiditas camp, POND MUD and ALT-R found themselves surrounded by more and more of the Cupiditas. Though ALT-R had grown ever more clever at reading and manipulating people, he mainly did so through his words. He was not well versed at all in the language of the Cupiditas and his palms grew sweaty and the throng of people swelled in numbers. Even the much stronger POND MUD though slow and brash well understood that he and his friend were no match for the strength of the entire Cupiditas people. While ALT-R understood only a little of the language of the Cupiditas, he and even POND MUD could tell that the people surrounding them were being derisive and threatening. At last, the tension became overwhelming as many of the Cupiditas hunters jabbed their spears threateningly at the two. So, ALT-R forced himself to speak in a loud, confident voice, supplementing his words with gestures that were common to all the tribes. 

“Oh, great and wondrous people of the Cupiditas, we bring great news to you and wish to speak with your great and legendary leader, CHOFM!” Though fearful, ALT-R made his voice ring loud and clear in the crisp morning air. 

His words brought a much more sudden change in mood than ALT-R expected. Several braves ran off from the group to inform their leader who was lounging in his large, private cabin. The crowd as a whole began chattering angrily among themselves and became even more threatening to the pair. 

ALT-R tried to understand what was going on and wished to choose his next words so as not to further darken the mood of the crowd. He gestured expansively to indicate the whole village. “You of the Cupiditas are a marvelous and strong people. I see many strong people among you. I see many cabins. I see many tents. I see that you are a prosperous and strong people.” The Cupiditas were feeling anything but prosperous and many took the words of ALT-R as sarcasm since they “knew” the Veritas were far more prosperous. ALT-R knew his flattery was not working well but had no idea why. He hated his lack of fluency in the tongue of the Cupiditas and struggled for something else to say by way of flattery. As he scanned the village for inspiration, he saw someone emerge from the largest cabin. This someone was dressed in finer garb than the other Cupiditas and was surrounded by several servile sycophants. 

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ALT-R stared at the man and bit his lower lip. He wondered whether this was the leader of the Cupiditas, for he, like the other Veritas, had always heard that CHOFM was a rather large, older, well-muscled man. But this did not well describe the obvious leader who emerged from the cabin. Perhaps he was ill. That would explain his diminished stature as well as the fawning attitude of those around him. Among the Veritas, such fawning behavior never occurred even for She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives but only signaled someone in a temporary state of great need. Still confused, ALT-R cursed himself for not having chosen a smart, knowledgeable friend who could help him rather than one he could easily manipulate. 

NUT-PI spoke. “I am NUT-PI, the King of the Cupiditas. I am not CHOFM. I vanquished that old man before the last fall harvest, oh, ill-informed one of the Veritas. What gifts did you bring me?” 

ALT-R wished that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were here to advise him. Immediately, he pushed this thought from his mind. He hated the leader of the Veritas, who had overlooked him as the next leader and furthermore banished him from the tribe – a rare and terrible punishment. But it did remind him of the Rings of Empathy that he possessed. 

“I am he who is called ALT-R and I bring you, oh, great leader of the Cupiditas, these wondrous and magical rings imbued with special powers by the shaman of the Veritas. My companion also brings his rings as gifts. Though these are magical and wondrous, they are but tokens of our esteem. Our real gift is the gift of knowledge. We have come to show you how to conquer the Veritas, not through superior computations [sic] but through knowledge. We are of the Veritas and know the Veritas. We know where their lookouts are; we know their habits; we know their weapons; we know their strengths and weaknesses. We can show you how to defeat the Veritas. All I need is your word to make me small King of the Veritas to your large King of all in these lands. And, my friend POND MUD, of course. Also to rule under you.”

NUT-PI said flatly, “Show me these rings.” 

ALT-R eagerly fished out his rings and nudged POND MUD to do the same, which he did grudgingly. ALT-R knelt before NUT-PI and offered up his rings. He quietly backed away, head still lowered. He whispered for POND MUD to do the same. And so it was done. 

NUT-PI considered the rings, turning them over in his hand and letting the morning sun play upon them. They were indeed beautiful and well-made, but he was quite skeptical of magic. He had his own “magic” after all, consisting of the poisons he used to keep his power. The Cupiditas may think he was magic but he knew what the real secrets of his success were: poison and ruthlessness. We will see whether your knowledge of the Veritas is sufficient to save your lives. Come!” He turned and walked back toward his cabin, gestured for them to follow and snapped his fingers at his body guards. 

Inside the cabin, NUT-PI seated himself upon an ornately carved wooden chair raised several feet off the floor on a dais. POND MUD and ALT-R were forced to kneel on gravel before him while a score of well-muscled guards pointed their spears at the head, throat, and chest of the two from among the Veritas.  

NUT-PI looked at the two disdainfully. “Speak! Be quick! What do you know of how to defeat the Veritas!” 

ALT-R now found himself having to speak plainly in a foreign tongue about complex things. He was ordered to do so quickly and he was already feeling pain in his knees. Yet, if he spoke in too little detail, he would be dismissed as a fraud. On the other hand, if he spoke in too much detail, he knew that he had no guarantee that the Cupiditas would not kill them both and use the knowledge anyway. He stared at the gravel wondering whether it would ease his pain or worsen it if he tried to shift his position just a little.

NUT-PI enjoyed his obvious discomfort and played the rings in his hand while he started at the two. “WELL?! Do not think to waste my time!” he barked. 

ALT-R decided to reveal the scope of his knowledge first and then delve into ever more detail, vowing to ignore the pain until he could read that NUT-PI was sufficiently impressed. He would also make it clear that it would be necessary for him to accompany the Cupiditas in their raid in person. Thus, he began to reveal the general habits of the Veritas such as the fact that guards were not always positioned in the same place. At the full moon and the empty moon, these posts rotated among over a hundred vantage points that were chosen in some unknown way by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. ALT-R knew where the guards were now so he could sneak back into the lands of the Veritas and discover their new hiding places when the moon showed no light. For the guards took no pains to cover their trails from the campsites to their guard posts. Each guard also had a small drum for raising an alarm. It would be critical to sneak behind the guards from the direction of the Veritas, once the new positions were known. It must be done very quietly and with camouflage under cover of rain if possible. Each such post must be taken quickly, the drums destroyed, and the guards murdered. It would not be necessary to kill all the guards initially. The Cupiditas only needed to murder those on the side of the deep forest that bordered the lands of the Veritas. 

ALT-R had never known such pain and yet, he kept reminding himself that he needed to convince NUT-PI of the depth and importance of his knowledge. He also painted a picture of beautiful women to be raped, full storehouses to be ransacked, and many fine artifacts that could be stolen. While it would be possible to annihilate the Veritas outright, it would be far more profitable to take them as slaves, he explained. He and POND MUD could be excellent at being the slave drivers for they spoke the language of the Veritas and knew their customs. They would be well positioned to foresee any uprising or rebellion and destroy any such tree of rebellion while still a seedling. “But of course, that choice remains with you, oh Great One,” said ALT-R fawningly. ALT-R had told a different story to POND MUD and promised him he could have any woman of the Veritas or the Cupiditas once they had become co-leaders of both lands and villages. Dull as POND MUD sometimes was, ALT-R hoped he would have the sense not to interrupt or reveal this now. He had made it as clear as he could to POND MUD to volunteer nothing. 

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At last, NUT-PI grew weary of listening for it was hard work to understand the twisted tongue of ALT-R and besides that, NUT-PI’s stomach growled for among all the Cupiditas he was the last to have a morning meal. So, he put an end to the interview, at least for now. 

“Enough! I will think on this and announce my decision on the morrow. Guards, take these two, denude them, bind them hand and foot in the center of the village upside down so my people may look upon the Veritas and realize they are nothing special and can indeed by conquered. When you have bound them securely, come back here that we may plan our invasion with or without their help. Perhaps they will be of future use as well. Or perhaps we will feed them to the wolves. Or, perhaps we will learn how they are made inside. Arise now and go! After you have secured them, warn the villagers not to kill them before I give the command, though if they wish to hurt them a little or humiliate them, to enjoy themselves. Stress, however, that they are not to kill these two until I give the word. GO!” 

ALT-R tried to stand and found himself struggling like an oldster. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, he thought, could have come to her feet more gracefully. 

So, it was that ALT-R and POND MUD found themselves in the middle of the camp of the Cupiditas, strapped to large logs, hog-tied and upside down, subject to the taunts and worse of the villagers through the long day and the longer night without benefit of food or drink or privacy. 

Even a dictator needs confidantes and so it was with NUT-PI. Now, these were with NUT-PI to plan. While the Veritas had very detailed maps of the entire area, those of the Cupiditas were far less accurate. Nonetheless, they knew the location of the thick forest that protected one side of the lands of the Veritas. They planned their attack as well as the training and selection of the warriors. One of NUT-PI’s captains obliquely brought up the question of who would be the best slave driver of the remaining Veritas. 

NUT-PI laughed and said earnestly, “Do you think me a fool, INGO RICHES? You can never trust a Veritas. And you can never ever trust a traitor. They are both! Of course, I will choose one of you to be slave-driver of the remnants of the Veritas. These two will both be killed once Victory is assured. Till then, they can serve as useful tools. They will then be killed as slowly and painfully as possible in the middle of the main camp of the Veritas to illustrate to the Veritas what happens to any who defy me. That will be their final gift to me. I will decide later who will have the Veritas to run as they wish, but do not worry, INGO RICHES, you are among the candidates. We must first put all our thought into winning this war for the Veritas are not an easy foe. They are wily and well-trained. We will use these two, but let them grow more humility as they contemplate their possible fates while hungry, thirsty, fearful and humiliated. Besides, I want to know why they came here. So far, this one who calls himself ALT-R had not really answered that question completely. But he will in the morning. Or the next morning. Or the next. Eventually, I will discover the truth. And this I promise you and all the people of the Cupiditas – we will conquer the Veritas and rule the world.”

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