• About PeterSIronwood

petersironwood

~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

petersironwood

Tag Archives: Democracy

Join the Throng and Sing the Song

27 Friday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Democracy, life, music, poem, poetry, politics, truth, writing

Stolen files 

Strong denials 

Murderous lies of pedophiles

And there were promises for all

All along the nonsense wall

The dreams of Dreamers

Screaming in the lethal night

While crusaders stealing 

Trailing long red streamers

Illegally dealing 

Pretending to fight for the Right

The wheel will turn

The time will come 

The music will hum

The fire will burn

Christmas decorations all blood red

Gardens of roses ground to dust

Pastures of plenty planted with lust

Prosperity drizzled and died 

Perfidy raged unchecked instead

Hate reared its ugly orange head

Revealing the cancerous rot inside

And all around this hellscape pranced

The greedy few who never glanced

At those who died from bullets & bombs

Tearing the infants from pleading moms

The wheel will turn

The time will come 

The music will hum

The fire will burn

Thrashing our friends 

While hugging the thugs

The sicko prances and pretends

Apes Mussolini with mindless mugs

Your taxes all frittered 

Away on a whim

Cajoles the embittered

It’s all for him

Thousands of times he lied and he lied

And real people died

Thousands and thousands for the price of his pride

He cares not a whit

Nor even a half

He has not a wit

Nor even a half

His words are clouds that wisp in the wind

His actions alone write his own epitaph 

There isn’t a virtue that he hasn’t sinned

He licks at the hooves of a gold-painted calf

The wheel will turn

The time will come 

The music will hum

The fire will burn

The people awake 

Their blinders they shed

The people this March 

Their shackles they shake

Prove power instead

The people will march

Lady Liberty—her torch at last is lit

The bell of freedom rings the land

The music plays from every band 

The drummer drums on every kit


The watchfire burns

Everyone learns


Power is ours if only we take it

America works if only we make it


Come and join in joyous song

Come and join the millions strong

Come and be where you belong


Come and help us right the wrong

Come and join in joyous song

The Ailing King of Agitate

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Dance of Billions

An Open Sore from Hell

Myths of the Veritas: Many Pains for Many Paths

23 Monday Mar 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Bohm Dialogue, Democracy, dialogue, discussion, faith, fiction, leadership, life, politics, story, truth

IMG_4108

Many Paths awoke in a start and saw that all around her, there was a rosy glow. Why? Her heart raced when a fire-image crept into her mind. She scrambled up and peered outside. Ah. The rosy glow was merely from an unusually beautiful sunrise. She smiled at herself, happy that the alarm had been false. She looked down at her right hand and noticed the studded club in her hand. She had no recollection of having grabbed it. 

Many Paths suddenly shook her head. She shocked herself to realize that there was a small part of her that was actually sorry it hadn’t been an emergency of some sort. 

{Translator’s Note}: The Veritas were apparently all taught from earliest years to acknowledge seemingly contradictory feelings and then, when conditions permitted, to track down what was going on. It was considered very important not to be living with contradictions of any kind. Factual contradictions, value contradictions, and even emotional contradictions needed to be sorted.  

Failure to resolve or at least understand such conflicts was thought to almost certainly cause problems. From a contradiction of facts, anything can be “proven.” A contradiction of values can lead to vacillation — which is inefficient — as well as breaking trust with others. The Veritas considered the breaking of trust to be a very serious crime. Their whole society, like any free society, was based on trust. Breaking that trust is tantamount to attempting to destroy society. 

A contradiction in feelings did not mean that the tribe member needed to decide which feeling was “correct.” Though they apparently did not have a modern knowledge of anatomy, they were well aware that many parts of our body have muscles arranged in antagonistic pairs. Often feelings are arranged the same way. They considered it important to understand the origins of feelings and then to choose which one to act on based on probable outcomes.

Many Paths quickly realized that a true emergency, a visible enemy, even a necessary evacuation would allow her to do something. And, doing something–anything–would be more pleasant than this incessant waiting. And there were the mutterings. As the days wore on, people looked at her differently. She did not hear any open questioning of her leadership, but when she drew near, she could tell that conversations fell silent or switched to “pleasant” topics. If she were leading them in active battle, they would consider her a more active leader, and she herself would feel as though she was somehow “helping” her tribe reconnect. And, she especially missed Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift. Not knowing whether they were dead or alive or wounded somewhere — these led to extremely unpleasant images and feelings. 

She prepared herself for her day and let it be known that she wished to have a council fire and dialogue that evening. Rather than pretend that everything was wonderful and that her leadership was unquestioned, she thought it better to encourage others to share their ideas about what else might be done. 

IMG_3320

Original Artwork by Pierce Morgan

The rosy glow of the morning gave way to a sweltering day of hazy sunshine. After her own chores were done, she decided to walk among the people and pitch in with their chores and discover what was on their minds individually. She noticed Stone Chipper and his son, Horse Viewer headed back toward the river where Horse Viewer had been the first among the Veritas to see a person standing atop a horse. She thought it worthwhile to quiz them gently when they were back at the precise place where Horse Viewer had first seen those Who Steal Children. Sometimes, people can recall that which first escaped them when they are once again in similar circumstances. Anyway, it would be cool near the creek and Many Paths knew there was a small nearby lake with Pickerel and Arrowhead. She judged it was likely too early to gather the Pickerel seeds but the Arrowhead tubers could be harvested any time. 

They walked in silence for a time. At last they neared the creek and Many Paths said, “Horse Viewer, can you show me where you stood when you first saw the man on the horse?” 

A large, radiant smile lit the small boy’s face. He loped over to a spot near the outlet to the lake. He turned back to the adults, jumped up and down a few times. “Right here! Here’s the spot! I was looking across to there.” 

Many Paths strode up to him quickly. “Can you do me a favor, Horse Viewer? Can you close your eyes, please?” The boy complied as Many Path continued, “Now, can you picture anything else?” 

fullsizeoutput_1b1a

“Well,” said the boy without opening his eyes, “there was a kind of rope or strap coming from the mouth of the horse to the hands of the man who stood atop the horse. Although…he didn’t really stand on the horse. He stood on something on the side of the horse. And, the man…the man was wearing a black, hairy mask on the lower part of his face. The man … the man kicked the horse. I think he kicked the horse with his heel into the side of the horse. That’s all I remember.” The boy opened his eyes and stared at Many Paths. 

“Thank you, Horse Viewer. Your memory is good. Can you think of anything else?” 

The boy closed his eyes again, but opened them soon. “No, not really. Except…I couldn’t really see the man very well, but he was … stiff?” 

Many Paths glanced at Stone Chipper and back to the boy. “What do you mean by ‘stiff’?”

Horse Viewer frowned. “I mean. He was riding so fast! He should have been scared or happy or … something… but his face was blank and his body was … stiff … as though he felt neither joy nor fear in riding such a wondrous beast.” 

IMG_7209

Many Paths nodded. “You are a good observer, Horse Viewer. If you think of anything else, let me or your father know.” Now, help find some good stones for arrowheads. We may need many more soon. Meanwhile, I will also be gathering arrowheads. She smiled and gestured toward the margin of the lake. 

Stone Chipper said, “Many Paths. I also have something to say.” 

“Yes? What is it?” 

Stone Chipper looked at Many Paths and said, “I want you to know that I think you are a good leader.” He paused. “I do not think it’s your fault we were attacked at feast. And I don’t think it’s your fault that our search party has not yet returned. And we all of us thought sending a small search party was most appropriate. I don’t think it made sense to send a larger party. We don’t know yet what we are dealing with. As my son said, these people are not … they are not Veritas … and we do not yet know how they think or what other weapons they may have. They lie. We know that much from Friend of Squirrel. To pretend to trade in peace and then attack? They are not good people, I think. They are a great danger to us all. This is not the time for rash action. When you chip a stone properly, you must turn it this way and that. You must chip carefully or you will break the stone so that nothing good is left. I have made such a mistake of too much haste myself. Then, I must start over. We don’t want to break the tribe. That’s all. That’s what I think.” 

Many Paths sighed, nodded, and smiled grimly at Stone Chipper. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. She took both his hands in hers, looked in his eyes and said, “you are a fine maker of arrowheads, sir, and you are raising a good son. We will see how long it takes me to gather arrowheads and we may or may not walk back to the Center Place together. But for now I take your leave.” She then strode to the side of the lake. She removed her moccasins, and began wading into the cold, refreshing water. 

IMG_9452

—————————————————————

By late afternoon, Stone Chipper and Horse Viewer had gathered a heavy bag full of stones to be chipped. Likewise, Many Paths had a large number of Arrowhead tubers. They decided to return together to the Center Place. They had not gone far though when they came across Trunk of Tree who seemed to have been waiting for them though he seemed surprised to see the three of them together. 

“Hello, Many Paths! Have the three of you been collecting stones?”

Stone Chipper answered, “Well, I have been collecting stones along with my son, Horse Viewer, as you now call him. Many Paths has been gathering for tonight’s feast.”

“Oh. Interesting. Gathering food. May I talk with you privately, Many Paths?” 

She glanced at Stone Chipper who shrugged. Many Paths, said, “Yes. What is on your mind.” Trunk of Tree looked back at Many Paths but said nothing until the other two were well down the path and out of earshot. 

“Many Paths, you know I support you totally, right?” 

“Well, thank you Trunk of Tree. I do appreciate that.”

Trunk of Tree, chewed on his lip for a moment. “Well, yes. The thing is, some of the braves grow impatient. They wish to send out a larger party. They say you are afraid to do that because you’re afraid to find out that Shadow Walker is dead. And Tu-Swift. As long as we all stay here, we will never know and you can pretend they are still alive.”

Many Paths drew back. “What? I — no, I do not think either of them are dead, but if they are, I will get over it. I do not counsel sending more people out until we learn more from those who went to discover more about this enemy. I am not afraid of finding out they are dead. I appreciate your support, but …. “

Trunk of Tree stopped in his tracks and turned toward Many Paths, laying his thick hands upon her upper arms and turning her toward him. “If you truly appreciate my support, why not show it?” 

0483CC2A-1D87-46D3-9D8E-A41E3D8772B4

Many Paths frowned. “I just said that I appreciated your support. You puzzle me.”

“Many Paths, you are beautiful, but unused to the ways of men. I can show you those ways and you will be a better leader for it. I like you. You know I do. But it is time to acknowledge that Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift are not coming back. You need a family. I can provide that family, if you favor me. Let’s just try a handful of kisses and see how we like it. If either of us doesn’t like it, you can find someone else. But meanwhile….” Trunk of Tree tightened his grip on her arms and drew his body close. He closed his eyes and attempted to plant a kiss on her mouth. She quickly raised both hands above her head and brought them down quickly on the thick forearms of Trunk of Tree. She thus escaped his grip, but only momentarily. “NO!” she screamed. “We talked about this already. I am for Shadow Walker. He’s only been gone a short while. He will return. He’s your friend, or so we both thought. What is with you? I thought you were supporting me! Trying to force a kiss is not supporting me!” 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry. You’re just so beautiful. It is hard to resist.” 

“Trunk of Tree, you are strong. You can do difficult things. So you can leave me alone. I do not want to complicate…it would be such an absurdly bad idea. What do you think would happen?” 

“I think you should raise children with me. I am strong and I could be leader but I would listen to you for advice. We could lead this way together. Strength of body and strength of mind together. No-one would then question us.” 

Many Paths lidded her eyes, set her jaw and looked at him with dagger eyes. “I want people to question me. These are difficult times. I want everyone’s input, but I do not in any way want to raise a family with you. Indeed, I don’t wish to have children now! For what possible purpose? So that they can be stolen away by the horrible People Who Steal Children? If you object to the way I am handling things, then bring it up at the Dialogue after dinner and quit trying to force yourself on me. No. No. NO!” Trunk of Tree again tried to kiss her and this time Many Paths swung her elbow across his nose, breaking it. 

IMG_3191

Original Artwork by Pierce Morgan

Trunk of Tree had now grown angry and felt for a moment like breaking every bone in her body. But he saw that Stone Chipper must have heard their argument and quickly head back down the path toward them. Horse Viewer was close behind. Trunk of Tree grimaced and placed what he thought was a bland, pleasant smile upon his face. “Oh, hello, Stone Chipper. Sorry, we got a little excited at the prospect of killing the People Who Steal Children.” 

Many Paths slowly shook her head and looked at Trunk of Tree with great disappointment. “We’re done talking, Stone Chipper. It’s time to go back now so that we can feast on some Arrowheads.” She spun on her heel and begin striding down the path. Stone Chipper looked sternly at Trunk of Tree and let him pass so that he could keep an eye on him.

——————————————-

186DDAB7-08D8-436A-8F97-5D0C9B552F1F

Original Artwork by Zoe Colier

   

After a wonderful feast, capped off with herbal tea, most of the tribe gathered for another Dialogue. Many Paths began. 

“As you know, we all agreed to send out a small search party both to find and return Tu-Swift and also to find out more about the People Who Steal Children. They have not yet returned. I am hopeful they will return soon with knowledge and with Tu-Swift. But I also understand that it is frustrating for the rest of us to feel as though we are doing nothing. Let us together once again contemplate what else we might do.” 

Everyone was silent for a time. At last, Trunk of Tree spoke. “I know I speak for many who are afraid to speak for themselves. We believe the search party is dead or captured. We have learned nothing about these People Who Stand on Horses. We can stay here and do nothing. Or we can go and seek our revenge. I am strong and a warrior. I do not like sitting here like women simply gathering food and waiting to be attacked. I think it is time to consider a new leader.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives spoke next. “And who might that leader be?”

Silence.

Trunk of Tree spoke then. “If no-one else will step up, I will do it. I will find these People Who Stand on Horses and will kill them all.” 

Stone Chipper spoke next. “It is not true that we are simply gathering food and doing nothing else. Just today, I gathered many more stones that I can chip for more arrowhead and spearheads. It will take some time, but not a time overly long. And meanwhile, we all know that we have made it more difficult in many ways and in many places for People Who Stand on Horses to attack us. And, now we are all wary. They fooled us before. They pretended to come in peace. We will not be fooled twice. I, for one, stand with Many Paths.” 

There was a general murmur of assent. 

After much talk of many paths and Many Paths, She Who Saves Many Lives spoke again. “I am very curious, Trunk of Tree. Just this morning, I heard you also support Many Paths. Now you speak against her. What made you change your mind?”

“I thought about it more. That’s all!” Trunk of Tree said. 

His voice held too much anger to signal thinking so She Who Saves Many Lives persisted in her questions. “Does your change have anything to do with your falling down and breaking your nose?” 

Trunk of Tree burst out angrily, “I never said I fell! I…I mean.… I don’t know how I broke my nose. It doesn’t matter!” 

She Who Saves Many Lives laughed gently. “I find that a bit hard to believe. I am a woman who has seen many winters. No doubt, I may sometimes now find that a fly has bitten me when I did not notice. But even I would be quite sure to know when and how I broke my nose. If you do not wish to speak the truth in our deliberations, then, do not speak at all.” 

“What?! All right. You want to know the truth? Many Paths broke my nose.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives smiled slightly. “Really? And why was that?” 

Trunk of Tree blushed scarlet. “She tricked me. She got mad because I told her the truth: that Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift are dead. She didn’t like that.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives spoke even more softly. “Have you seen the bodies?” 

Trunk of Tree grumbled. “No. Of course not. But why aren’t they back? Everyone knows they’re dead!” 

She Who Saves Many Lives spoke again, “I do not think they are dead. What do you think, Many Paths?” 

“I feel very strongly that neither of them are dead. But…I do feel that both Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker have been injured. I do not know for sure, but that is how I feel. I know it sounds a little odd, but when I touch the Rings, I feel as though I can connect with both of them. I feel as though they are alive. But that is not proof. I would suggest that we think about other defensive measures. 

“I think we should all sleep a sound sleep tonight and we can discuss tomorrow whether we want a new leader. As for me, I cannot for certain foresee the future. I do not believe any leader may guarantee what will happen. Not She Who Saves Many Lives. Not Trunk of Tree. Not me. No-one. So, I have to ask myself what does it mean when someone claims that they know what they do not know?” 

A-OC raised another question. “Is it true what Trunk of Tree said? Did you break his nose?”

Many Paths glanced at She Who Saves Many Lives. “It is true that I broke his nose. Yes. It is not true that I tricked him or that I broke his nose because he said my love and my brother were both dead. Saying this did not make me angry because I believe he is simply wrong. And, one day, we will know the truth of their destiny.” 

P-OC next spoke, “Then why did you break his nose?” 

Many Paths stared at Trunk of Tree. “Trunk of Tree: you and I worked together on many things. We are friends, I think. Why don’t you tell the tribe why you think I broke your nose?” 

Trunk of Tree shut his lips together tightly and folded his arms across his chest. “I will tell you what I think. I think I should be leader. I am strong and decisive. I will lead you to a victorious … victory. I will … we will steal all their things and be richer. That’s what I think and it doesn’t matter why you broke my nose. Let’s vote tomorrow morning as Many Paths suggests. Or does she perhaps want to suggest another twenty things we should think about instead?” 

Trunk of Tree stomped off. The rest of the tribe looked back to Many Paths. 

Many Paths looked at each person and spoke softly. “So be it. We shall vote in the morning. Peace be to all.” She raised her voice and cupped her hands aside her mouth as she added, “And peace to you, Trunk of Tree.” 

Stone Chipper added in a loud whisper, “Or, as we may now call him, ‘Trunk of Tree with Broken Branch’.”

IMG_3192

Original Artwork by Pierce Morgan

——————————————————- 

Books by the Author. All are available on Amazon in both paperback and ebook.

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the ‘mental game’ for all sports: strategy, tactics, and self-talk with examples from golf, tennis, softball, etc.

Turing’s Nightmares describes various possible scenarios of the future of technology — especially robotics and Artificial Intelligence.

Fit in Bits suggests many ways to work more fun and exercise into daily activities such as traveling, sitting in meetings, shopping, playing with kids, etc.

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

Website with earlier stories, essays, and poems.

Essays on America: The Game

Essays on America: Labelism

Essays on America: Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

Essays on America: What About the Butter Dish?

Corn on the Cob (An Essay about mindfulness and gratitude)

Come Back to the Light Side

Try the Truth

The Truth Train

 

 

 

The Many Shiny Things

18 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry, politics, psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Democracy, fantasy, fiction, life, poem, poetry, politics, short story, truth, USA, writing

You spy the many shiny things

Along the road to you-know-where.

The whistle of the wind who stings 

The stench of burning flesh and hair.

The numbers prove you must be rich!

Why care about the starving child?

Why care for homeless vets in ditch?

Why care if kids are raped, defiled?

The liars all have puffin lips.

Their hair is long; drops straight and gold.

They glare at you with hands on hips;

The lies they spew are eons old. 

AI-generated

And yet within your heart of hearts

You feel a teeny prick of guilt.

Your cure is caress their farts. 

And lap the floor for blood they’ve spilt.

Just get along and sing their song

Of hatred, lies, and “I-Not-See”!

The rights they wrong to get along;

The stench of their autocracy.

Photo by Tom Fisk on Pexels.com

The stench of their autocracy

The stink of dead democracy.

Then wash with white theocracy.

While Coward leads the cowardly.

You thought you’d gain more shiny things

Along that road to you know where.

Instead you kiss their slimy rings

And wash their dirty underwear.

You help to squelch the good and true

Your soul’s a bridge that you have burned.

Betraying true Red, White, and Blue.

A place in hell is all you’ve earned. 

The stench of sick autocracy:

It bathes your brain eternally.

You coddled cancer; pay the price. 

A gram of courage would’ve been nice. 

But you’re too late now. 

You’re just another cow— 

Another slice of steak,

For Conmen to take.

Author Page

Where Does Your Loyalty?

My Cousin Bobby

The Update Problem

Labelism

An Open Sore from Hell

After All

All We Stand to Lose

The Stopping Rule

At Least he’s our Monster

Wednesday

The Game

You Bet Your Life

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire

07 Saturday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

celebration, Democracy, empathy, ethics, fantasy, feast, fiction, leadership, life, short story, story, strategy, tactics, truth, Veritas, writing

Myths of the Veritas: Book II

{Translator’s Note} In what follows, I was able to make use of a new class of self-correcting statistical algorithms that allows for a more detailed depiction of the spoken and drum languages of the Veritas. This work has been aided immeasurably by archaeometrical modeling and, in particular, the Schliemann-Baudhayana equations. Needless to say, these advances notwithstanding, narrative reconstruction is still fraught with numerous perils and is still as much an art as a science — a distinction lacking, so far as we can tell, in the thinking of the Veritas themselves who conceived of truth and beauty as tree and fruit.

—————————————————

Feast and Fire

“Well, why wouldn’t we? It is faster, right?” Tu-Swift grew impatient with his older sister. 

Many-Paths however, simply smiled as she answered. It was a genuine smile too, not the patronizing smile of an older, wiser sister; nor the forced smile used today as a means of manipulation; rather, her smile was nothing other than a genuine expression of her heart. 

Many-Paths could don an expression and feign a tone of voice as well as anyone. She, like most of the Veritas, simply chose not to feign feelings with other members of their own tribe, or indeed, with any other tribe excepting only in the case of true enemies like the Cupiditas had been. 

The reason that Many-Paths smiled was this: she appreciated the passion of her younger brother and his single-mindedly determination to prove his point even if it meant overlooking things that he himself knew to be true. Many-Paths was of an entirely different nature, as indicated from her name. As leader of the Veritas, Many-Paths had passed many trials of empathy and fair judgement. And as a leader, she was well-aware that the tribe needed people like Tu-Swift who would press on and on for something no matter what. And as a leader she was also well-aware that the tribe needed people like Many-Paths to provide a check on such ill-conceived enthusiasm. 

IMG_3192

So, Tu-Swift felt the actual kindness in the voice of Many-Paths as she answered gently. “I think you yourself know the answers to why we might not choose to do it even if it is faster.  I also think you can imagine conditions under which your method would be considerably slower.  But meanwhile, I can hear that the voices of the people are happy and loudening. We ourselves should also be making our way to the feast.”

Tu-Swift needed no further encouragement to attend a feast, especially the feast of Bel-Tanay, with its promise of fresh greens, strawberries, grilled fish, and honey-sweetened ground nuts. He spun on his heel and hurtled toward the Center Place. So quickly did he turn and so quickly did he begin to sprint, and so thoroughly did the image of honey-sweetened ground nuts capture his attention, that he immediately slapped his body into a small sapling which rebounded him backwards at the feet of Many-Paths. He was a tough little boy, graced with a lithe and muscular frame. Hence, he sprang back up almost as quickly as the sapling had slung him backwards. “Sorry,” he muttered to the sapling as he once again sprinted toward the feast. 

Many-Paths shouted after him with good humor: “Are you too swift Tu-Swift?” She shook her head slightly, still unsure whether he had even heard her gentle rebuke let alone truly processed it. There would be other opportunities, she thought. Many-Paths had no more desire to change the nature of To-Swift than she did to change a rabbit into a tortoise. She pictured a brown rabbit with a white tail plodding methodically along with his long legs splayed out sideways. Without a shell, such a slow and furry tortoise would stand no chance to survive the predations of eagle or fox. As She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had taught her, each branch of life must be its own form. Yet, rabbit, tortoise, and human beings also made choices. One of the most important a human being could ever make was simply accepting that no one path is most appropriate for every occasion. 

Many-Paths could still have caught up with her younger brother for she had also inherited feet that flew. And, this natural talent she had nurtured. She had explored various loping, skipping, and sprinting gaits thoroughly to see for herself how various gaits worked best under various circumstances of terrain and weather. This day, this moment, however, required no speed whatever and Many-Paths found it more pleasant to stroll to the Center Place, anticipating the savory salmon laid on a bed of wild lettuce and garnished with grape tendrils; the rich warm acorn and wild rice pudding; the tangy sweetness of fresh strawberries. 

Before she rounded the guardhouse that blocked her view of the gathering throng, she tried to imagine the various groups and sub-groups that would be eating together. As leader, it often proved useful to be able to predict such matters. Her predictive skills improved daily though perfection at such a task might be years, perhaps even decades away, as She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had explained soon after she had bestowed upon Many-Paths the Seventh and Final Ring of Empathy. 

“Your skills will continue to improve,” She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had explained, “provided only that you walk a balanced way using both legs and both minds – the mind that sees what may be and the mind that sees what is actually there.” 

Many-Paths had nodded solemnly because she “understood” what Saves-Many had meant though the depth of that understanding had deepened considerably over the years. In her mind that sees what may be, Many-Paths first pictured Shadow Walker and she predicted that he would likely be already chatting with Eyes-of-Eagle and Fleet-of-Foot whom she had not seen for nearly a year. Many-Paths thought it likely that one of the Nomads of the South would have accompanied them. Trust was still a bit fragile between the two tribes but trade, and games, and sharing stories, and playing drums, and dancing, and sharing meals — all of these had served to grow many bonds between the two tribes. And surely today’s feast with the wonderful aromas she now inhaled could only serve to strengthen ties between the tribes. 

fullsizeoutput_17b8

Many-Paths walked into the clearing of the Center Place. She glanced around quickly to see how people had arranged themselves. The groupings largely confirmed her hypotheses except that strangers occupied the space near — no, wait! There they were! Eyes-of-Eagle, Fleet-of-Foot, and even Shadow Walker had donned robes in the manner of the Southern Nomads. The craftily constructed garb fooled her eyes so badly that she had not even recognized her friends at first, not even Shadow Walker! She laughed at how she had been fooled. In this case, she had even know where to look, but she had still found it difficult to see what was truly there. Walking a balanced way did indeed prove to be a life-long challenge. 

As Many-Paths made her way to her place, she exchanged many small waves and nods with other in her tribe. Though all were aware of her role as leader and the vital role she had played in the storied victory in the war with the Cupiditas, the people did not indulge in various displays of deference or position. They gave great weight to her words, despite her youth, because of her intelligence and competence, not because she held some “position.” Unlike the Cupiditas, no-one bowed deeply to her or waited to see what she thought before offering their own honest opinion. She dressed in deerskins much like the others of the Veritas. Typically, as today, she wore the Seven Rings of Empathy threaded onto a knotted necklace of leather. Only this and her radiant manner set her off from her compatriots. 

B34DF6E7-63B2-4217-956C-6F64011A74F2

As she approached, the animated chatter of her friends stopped and they all rose to embrace her. Shadow Walker’s embrace held the most strength and the most warmth. She found herself blushing slightly. She wished to clear her mind so she could properly welcome the visitors from the Southern Nomads. That took precedence over her own considerably awakened desire. 

“Well met, new friends from the south. I am Many-Paths and I am much impressed with the raiment you provided! These people sitting next to you are my friends from birth. Yet, I at first did not recognize them. So cleverly did you fashion these robes! My congratulations. I must confess that I am led toward three paths at once. I wish to know more about such magic and skill. I want to learn about you and what you think of the Veritas and yet, I also want to learn from my friends about their adventures in your lands as well. Sometimes, you see, Many-Paths has too many paths to choose from.”

“I am happy most glad to meet you at last, She-Who-Walks-Many-Paths-to-Save-Many-Lives. I am happy most glad you like the robes of. We have brought such a glad one for you as well. I am known among my tribe as ‘Lion-Slayer, The Silent One’ and this is my wife, Hudah Salah.”

Hudah Salah now stepped forward and took both hands of Many-Paths in hers and looked into her eyes. Many-Paths returned the gaze. “It is nice. I to meet you in person. My husband is yes glad to be Lion-Slayer. He does not often be called ‘Silent One.’ 

Lion-Slayer chuckled. “I make joke. I like talk.” 

“I do too,” chimed in Fleet-of-Foot. “I like to eat even more! Please pass the salmon!”

Tu-Swift, grabbed the plate quickly and passed it to Fleet-of-Foot, his favorite ‘Uncle.’ Before he had finished handing off the platter, an urgent cry rang out in his ears, sharp above the general happy din. 

“To arms! To arms!” It was Many-Paths issuing commands! Tu-Swift wondered whether she had gone mad. Why was she saying that in the middle of a feast? He shook his head to wake himself up in case he had been dreaming. Again, she was shouting, “To the Cottonwoods!”

IMG_0051

But shaking his head changed nothing, everywhere warriors were readying their weapons and now Tu-Swift’s consciousness seemed to shatter into an incoherent blur of sound and color and pain. He heard whooshing arrows twang into wood. He saw an arrow land on a table near him. Color shot out from the shaft. He could feel the heat and taste the pain. Fleet-of-Foot wrenched him around and in one swift motion snapped the arrow in two, pulled out the shaft and wrapped a makeshift bandage around Tu-Swift’s forearm. 

All around him, Tu-Swift saw arrows streaming and flaming down from the sky; he saw his people gather weapons. He saw his sister leading a band of warriors out across the water toward a stand of trees. This, he thought, is where the arrows come from. This arrow. This arrow came through my arm. I am shot. That’s why I hurt. I have to help fight. Tu-Swift rose to his feet and immediately felt very light-headed. He grabbed a large flint carving knife. He fell to his knees, crawled under the table and fainted. 

fullsizeoutput_123a

————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Creation Myth of the Veritas

Fragmentary Myth of the Veritas

The First Ring of Empathy

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Somewhere a Bird Cries

At Least he’s Our Monster

Tools of Thought: And then what?

You Know

The Walkabout Diaries: Natural Variation

It’s not your fault; it’s not your fault

The Cupiditas

27 Tuesday Jan 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

America, Cupiditas, Democracy, Dictatorship, empathy, fiction, governance, greed, history, leadership, life, myth, politics, power, treachery, truth, USA, Veritas, writing

fullsizeoutput_2449

{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. 

america arid bushes california

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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.  

IMG_0022

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. 

black and white cold fog forest

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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. 

brown wooden percussion instruments

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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 the one he could most 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. 

 

 

Photo by Pedro Figueras on Pexels.com

 

 

 

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. 

agriculture basket beets bokeh

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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.”

IMG_9162


Author Page on Amazon

The First Ring of Empathy

The Second Ring of Empathy

The Third Ring of Empathy

The Fourth Ring of Empathy

The Fifth Ring of Empathy

The Sixth Ring of Empathy

All We Stand to Lose

After All

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

D4

Dick-Taters

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Orange Man

At Least he’s Our Monster

The Ailing King of Agitate

An Open Sore from Hell

 

Abracadabra!

20 Tuesday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in apocalypse, The Singularity, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

"Citizens United", AI, Artificial Intelligence, biotech, chatgpt, chess, cognitive computing, Democracy, emotional intelligence, ethics, HCI, life, prediction, psychokinesis, technology, the singularity, truth, Turing, USA, UX

IMG_7241.JPG

Abracadabra!

 

Here’s the thing.

 

There is no magic.

 

Of course, there is the magic of love and the wonder at the universe and so there is metaphorical magic. But there is no physical magic and no mathematical magic. Why do we care? Because in most science fiction scenarios, when super-intelligence happens, whether it is artificial or humanoid, magic happens. Not only can the super-intelligent person or computer think more deeply and broadly, they also can start predicting the future, making objects move with their thoughts alone and so on. Unfortunately, it is not just in science fiction that one finds such impossibilities but also in the pitches of companies about biotech and the future of artificial intelligence. Now, don’t get me wrong. Of course, there are many awesome things in store for humanity in the coming millennia, most of which we cannot even anticipate. But the chances of “free unlimited energy” and a computer that will anticipate and meet our every need are slim indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This all-too popular exaggeration is not terribly surprising. I am sure much of what I do seems quite magical to our cats. People in possession of advanced or different technology often seem “magical” to those with no familiarity with the technology. But please keep in mind that making a human brain “better”, whether by making it bigger, or have more connections, or making it faster —- none of these alterations will enable the brain to move objects via psychokinesis. Yes, the brain does produce a minuscule amount of electricity, but way too little to move mountains or freight trains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, machines can be built to wield a lot of physical energy, but it isn’t the information processing part of the system that directly causes something in the physical world. It is through actuators of some type, just as it is with animals. Of course, super-intelligence could make the world more efficient. It is also possible that super-intelligence might discover as yet undiscovered forces of the universe. If it turns out that our understanding of reality is rather fundamentally flawed, then all bets are off. For example, if it turns out that there are twelve fundamental forces in the universe (or, just one), and a super-intelligent system determines how to use them, it might be possible that there is potential energy already stored in matter which can be released by the slightest “twist” in some other dimension or using some as yet undiscovered force. This might appear to human beings who have never known about the other 8 forces let alone how to harness them as “magic.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is another more subtle kind of “magic” that might be called mathematical magic. As known for a long time, it is theoretically possible to play perfect chess by calculating all possible moves, and all possible responses to those moves, etc. to the final draws and checkmates. It has been calculated that such an enumberation of contingencies would not be possible even if the entire universe were a nano-computer operating in parallel since the beginning of time. There are many similar domains. Just because a person or computer is way, way smarter does not mean they will be able to calculate every possibility in a highly complex domain.

Of course, it is also possible that some domains might appear impossibly complex but actually be governed by a few simple, but extremely difficult to discover laws. For instance, it might turn out that one can calculate the precise value of a chess position (encapsulating all possible moves implicitly) through some as yet undiscovered algorithm written perhaps in an as yet undesigned language. It seems doubtful that this would be true of every domain, but it is hard to say a priori. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is another aspect of unpredictability and that has to do with random and chaotic effects. Imagine trying to describe every single molecule of earth’s seas and atmosphere in terms of it’s motion and position. Even if there were some way to predict state N+1 from N, we would have to know everything about state N. The effects of the slightest miscalculation or missing piece of data could be amplified over time. So long term predictions of fundamentally chaotic systems like weather, or what your kids will be up to in 50 years, or what the stock market will be in 2600 are most likely impossible, not because our systems are not intelligent enough but because such systems are by their nature not predictable. In the short term, weather is largely, though not entirely, predictable. The same holds for what your kids will do tomorrow or, within limits, what the stock market will do. The ability to do long term prediction is quite different.

In The Sciences of the Artificial, Herb Simon provides a nice thought experiment about the temperature in various regions of a closed space. I am paraphrasing, but imagine a dormitory with four “quads.” Each quad has four rooms and each room is partitioned into four areas with screens. The screens are not very good insulators so if the temperature in these areas differ, they will quickly converge. In the longer run, the temperature will tend toward average in the entire quad. In the very long term, if no additional energy is added, the entire dormitory will tend toward the global average. So, when it comes to many kinds of interactions, nearby interactions dominate, but in the long term, more global forces come into play.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, let us take Simon’s simple example and consider what might happen in the real world. We want to predict what the temperature is in a particular partitioned area in 100 years. In reality, the dormitory is not a closed system. Someone may buy a space heater and continually keep their little area much warmer. Or, maybe that area has a window that faces south. But it gets worse. Much worse. We have no idea whether this particular dormitory will even exist in 100 years. It depends on fires, earthquakes, and the generosity of alumni. In fact, we don’t even know whether brick and mortar colleges in general will exist in 100 years. Because as we try to predict in longer and longer time frames, not only do more distant factors come into play in terms of physical distance. The determining factors are also distant conceptually. In a 100 year time frame, the entire college may or may not exist and we don’t even know whether the determining factor(s) will be financial, astronomical, geological, political, social, physical or what. This is not a problem that will be solved via “Artificial Intelligence” or by giving human beings “better brains” via biotech.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whoa! Hold on there. Once again, it is possible that in some other dimension or using some other as yet undiscovered force, there is a law of conservation so that going “off track” in one direction causes forces to correct the imbalance and get back on track. It seems extremely unlikely, but it is conceivable that our model of how the universe works is missing some fundamental organizing principle and what appears to us as chaotic is actually not.

The scary part, at least to me, is that some descriptions of the wonderful world that awaits us (once our biotech or AI start-up is funded) is that that wonderful world depends on their being a much simpler, as yet unknown force or set of forces that is discoverable and completely unanticipated. Color me “doubting Thomas” on that one.

It isn’t just that investing in such a venture might be risky in terms of losing money. It is that we humans are subject to blind pride that makes people presume that they can predict what the impact of making a genetic change will be, not just on a particular species in the short term, but on the entire planet in the long run. We can indeed make small changes in both biotech and AI and see improvements in our lives. But when it comes to recreating dinosaurs in a real life Jurassic Park or replacing human psychotherapists with robotic ones, we really cannot predict what the net effect will be. As humans, we are certainly capable of containing and testing and imagining possibilities and slowly testing them as we introduce them. Yeah. That could happen. But…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What seems to actually happen, however, is that companies not only want to make more money; they want to make more money now. We have evolved social and legal and political systems that put almost no brakes on runaway greed. The result is that more than one drug has been put on the market that has had a net negative effect on human health. This is partly because long term effects are very hard to ascertain, but the bigger cause is unbridled greed. Corporations, like horses, are powerful things. You can ride farther and faster on a horse. And certainly corporations are powerful agents of change. But the wise rider is master or partner with a horse. They don’t allow themselves to be dragged along the ground by rope and let the horse go wherever it will. Sadly, that is precisely the position that society is vis a vis corporations. We let them determine the laws. We let them buy elections. We let them control virtually every news medium. We no longer use them to get amazing things done. We let them use us to get done what they want done. And what is that thing that they want done? Make hugely more money for a very few people. Despite this, most companies still manage to do a lot of net good in the world. I suspect this is because human beings are still needed for virtually every vital function in the corporation.

What will happen once the people in a corporation are no longer needed? What will happen when people who remain in a corporation are no longer people as we know them, but biologically altered? It is impossible to predict with certainty. But we can assume that it will seem to us very much like magic.

Very.

Dark.

Magic.

Abracadabra!

Turing’s Nightmares

Photo by Nikolay Ivanov on Pexels.com

After All

All Around the Mulberry Bush

All We Stand to Lose

The Crows and Me

The Last Gleam of Twilight

Guernica

The Orange Man

Donnie Visits Granny

The First Ring of Empathy

An Open Sore from Hell

The Impossible

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Pattern Language Summary

The Midnight Flight to Crazytown

To Be or Not to Be

Peace

Who Won the War?

We Won the War! We Won the War!

The Dance of Billions

At Least He’s Our Monster

Stoned Soup

Fifteen Properties

Tools of Thought: And then what?

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

All that Glitters is not Gold

As Gold as it Gets

Gold Standard

Who Kept the Wonder?

Roar, Ocean, Roar

When Greed’s the Only Creed

The Self-Made Man

Travels with Sadie 13: Dog Parks

18 Sunday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in dogs, pets, psychology, Sadie, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

books, civility, collaboration, cooperation, Democracy, dogs, fiction, life, love, pets, truth, USA

When I take Sadie for her morning or evening walks, she generally does “Good Walking.”

There are some exceptions. If a small animal passes too close to us, she will sometimes lunge toward it. She also tends to pull if she’s desperate to “do her business.” She seems to have a particular place in mind. The third common situation is when we get close to one of her neighborhood dog-friends who is also out for a walk. She approaches nicely until we’re about ten feet away and then—she wants to greet the other dog—immediately. Instantaneously. NOW!

Sometimes, though, she approaches or sits and awaits, vibrating with excitement, but controlling herself. She and the other dog sniff and then suddenly, it’s all too much as she breaks into a sprint. That’s fine.



Except for one thing. We’re attached by a leash, and, alas, I cannot sprint. I probably never could sprint nearly so fast as Sadie, but certainly not now. 

In addition to ball playing in the garden, swimming, and walks, we also take the dogs to nearby dog parks. No big surprise, but they love it. 

The truth is, I like it too. Many of the dogs are friendly to strangers. That’s fine with me. It’s not always fine with Bailey, however, who definitely has a jealous streak in him. Even when my wife and I hug, he wants to join in the loving. But he has gotten more tolerant of other dogs coming to say “hi” or to ask for a ball or frisbee to be thrown. 

Sadie doesn’t seem much bothered when other dogs giving me some attention. Though Sadie and Bailey are both Golden Doodles and have many similarities such as their love of ball playing, they also have numerous differences. For instance, to signal that she really needs to go outside for a potty break, Sadie comes and stares at me. Bailey comes over to me and acts crazy. Sadie is much more likely to lie down and be mellow when I’m writing on the computer or watching Astrid. Bailey will continue to want to play ball and when all else fails, he’ll play ball by himself.



Ironically, I’ve never suggested this to Bailey. When Sadie was young, I tried on many occasions to show Sadie how she could play ball by herself, but she never caught on or showed any interest. 

Bailey very much wants our approval. Sadie likes our approval too, but she does have a stubborn streak. Following the instructions of her own inner demons is relatively more important to her. 

The differences among dogs are one of the reasons that I like going to the dog park. It’s fun to see the physical differences among the dog population. Equally, it’s interesting to see the differences in the ways that the dogs behave, both with each other, and with humans.



Another thing that’s nice about dog parks is that the people tend to be friendly. They too exhibit many differences in physical and behavioral characteristics. It’s a venue that seems to lend itself to informality and openness. When I’ve chatted with people, I don’t feel that they are trying to “impress me” with name dropping, etc. A few people—a distinct minority—show up and basically spend the whole time on the phone with very little of their attention going to the real world around them including their own dog. But that’s far from the modal behavior. 

On the way out of the dog park, I passed by a flag pole with a large round concrete base. You don’t need a dog’s superior nose to know that this spot is frequented a lot by the canine population. Part of the reason is that it is frequented a lot by the canine population. In other words, there’s a “bandwagon” effect. 

Looking at the dark stains all round the base of the flagpole makes me think of the way twitter devolved, but it applies to much of what happens on all social media. A small number of posts have a huge number of likes, reactions, and repostings while most have none. The algorithms of most social media platforms help promote this. 

It isn’t just social media, however. There are many such positive feedback loops in our society. Wealth and power result in more access to health, food, shelter, convenience, and education. This in turn, leads to more power and wealth. At the very high level, the wealthy and powerful don’t just win more competitive contests; they can and often do rig the contests.

The dogs at the dog park differ in age, strength, speed, and size as well as breed. Yet, in many ways, it’s very egalitarian. No dog gets all the attention or all the water or “rules” the other dogs or fetches every ball.

That seems okay with the dogs and okay with the “owners” of the dogs. 

—————————-

Author Page

Travels with Sadie 1

Travels with Sadie 2:

Travels with Sadie 3:

Travels with Sadie 4

Travels with Sadie 5

Travels with Sadie 6

Travels with Sadie 7

Travels with Sadie 8

Travels with Sadie 9

Travels with Sadie 10

Travels with Sadie 11

Travels with Sadie 12

Sadie is a Thief! 

The Lighty Ball

Dog Trainers

The Puppy’s Snapping Jaws

Hai-Ku-Dog-Ku

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

The Self-Made Man

Math Class: Who Are You?

Occam’s Chain Saw Massacre

It’s a Dog Eat Dog World

Essays on America: The Game

D4

Pattern Language for Cooperation and Collaboration

245

10 Saturday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Democracy, history, life, politics, truth, USA

Two hundred and forty five

Years 

And millions of patriot tears

That’s how long there has been American democracy 

Is it too much to ask

If you want to install a dictator, wow

Is it too much to ask 

That you set yourself a task

To find out how you’d really feel

Live for a year in Pyongyang or Moscow

You could see how you would you feel

When power seals every deal

And truth means nothing 

And merit means nothing

And everyone lives in suspicion of everyone 

And even sweet love is slathered in salt

Who does what and fingers find fault

Not an exercise in doing better

An exercise only in pointing a finger

After each swallow the bitter will linger

Such as these 

Laugh at destroying trees

Care nothing for generations yet to come

It simplifies life – that much is true 

Freedom of choice is taken from you

A regimen, no acumen, and you become a cog

Step out of line, you’re beaten like a dog

No matter how stupid the rule

You lick it up like drool

Come back after just one year 

Oh, wait, that’s right

You can’t come near

People can’t leave dictatorship you see

Everyone would follow the light 

Eschew dictatorship 

Embrace democracy

Poor old cruel dictator would be all alone 

Unable to work, he’d soon be skinless bone

No slaves to heed his lie-filled drone

 

All would honor the two four five

Do well to honor the two four five

Keep the dream alive 

Help the nation thrive 

And honor the two four five

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

————-

Author Page

Where Does your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chip

The Truth Train

The Ailing Kind of Agitate

After All

All We Stand to Lose

It’s Just the Way we Were

Somewhere a Bird Cries

The Broken Times

Essays on America: The Game

D4

Dick-taters

The US Extreme Court

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

Three Blind Mice

What About the Butter Dish?

Wednesday

The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

Happy Talk Lies

An Open Sore from Hell

The Declaration of Interdependence

The Bill of Obligations

When GREED’S the only Creed

09 Friday Jan 2026

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

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

autocracy, Democracy, greed, life, oligarchy, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

When greedy Greeder GREED

Is a person’s unifying creed

Then a person’s life’s defined

By its aging shrinking skin

Nothing won is really win

You rape instead of mutual love

You’re touching with cold metal glove

And wormy parasitic mind

When greedy Greeder GREED

Is a nation’s unifying creed

Then killing of another’s fine

The country falls to ash and mud

It splashes with a thick’ning thud

Fear and hate destroy what’s great

Stupidity becomes its fate

And blood’s a favored flavored wine

When greedy, Greeder, GREED

Is the world’s unifying creed

When everyone’s so cowed by cash

That love and life itself are seen

As merely meeker forms of screen

And forests die there is no why

The cancer spreads and all must die

The ugliness and stench obscene

AI-generated image to: ugly clown

There’s nothing left but useless gold

An unheard wind and endless cold

Congratulate your ego’s need

You bowed your head and prayed to GREED

———

Author Page

The First Ring of Empathy

The Walkabout Diaries: Variation

Travels with Sadie Teamwork

After All

Guernica

Essays on America: The Game

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

D4

Dick-tater$hit

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

All we Stand to Lose

The Twilights Last Gleaming

The Crows and Me

The Isle of Right

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar



Happy New Year, 2026; Reviewing 2025

01 Thursday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, pets, poetry, politics, psychology, satire, Uncategorized, user experience

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

AI, Democracy, essays, fiction, life, poem, poetry, politics, Review, thinking, USA, writing

Here’s a hint for having a happy 2026–or, at least one happier than it would otherwise be.

Your happiness actually depends more on how much you love than on how much you are loved. That turns out to be a wonderful thing because you have much more control over how much you love than you do over how much you are loved by others. You need not limit your love to your immediate family. You can love all the fish in the sea; every bird in a tree; every living thing on earth–all of which are in our extended family.

I thought it might be useful for reviewing 2025 for readers to have an index in one place. For instance, something happens or you read something on-line and you think, “Oh, I read something relevant to this on the Peter S. Ironwood blog. Now, what was it called?” Well, this should help.

January 1, 2025 began with a blog post about one of our Golden Doodles named Sadie. I take her for a walk every morning and sometimes write about it. Here are some posts about Sadie.

Travels with Sadie 5: 2025 is here

Travels with Sadie 6: Find Waldo

Travels with Sadie 7: Tolerance

Travels with Sadie 8 – Singing of the Rain

Travels with Sadie 9: Joint Problem Solving

Travels with Sadie 10: The Best Laid Plans

Travels with Sadie 11: Teamwork

Travels with Sadie 12: Taking Turns

During 2025, I found myself writing a number of poems. Many, but not all, were in response to the destruction of America that’s being directed by Putin.

Metastasized

Exauguration Day

The Ides of February

Destroying Our Government’s Effectiveness

The Unread Red

Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Namble Mamble Jamble

Co-Travelers

Autocrat: Putin’s Evil Traitor

Just Desserts?

The Last Gleam of Twilight

Oh, Frabjous Day!

The “Not-See” Party

A Cancerous Weed

An Open Sore from Hell

Baddies often have Bad Daddies

Aside from poetry, I also wrote a number of satirical pieces.

FaceGook explores how the value of social media is mainly created by the participants. Of course, the participants don’t get paid. The companies that own the media do.

Tomorrow’s Dinner is a satire on how the media normalize what is not at all normal.

A Day at the HR Department satirizes the utter incompetence of the Misadministration

Putin’s Favorite DOGE is a satire about DOGE

Interview with Putrid’s DOG-E

E-Fishiness Comes to Mass General Hospital

But Mommy! I had a Reason! satirizes the absurdity of the excuses


Here are links to a number of essays about contemporary issues

Ohms Come in Many Flavors

Running with the Bulls in a China Shop

Increased E-Fishiness in Government

Destroying Natural Intelligence

The Irony Age

Frank Friend or Fawning Foe?

May You Live in Interesting Times

Waves or Particles?

President Mush? Just Flush

The Agony of the Feet

Plastics!

Cooperation is More Common than Disruption

Wordless Perfection


On the lighter side, I’ve been translating sections of “The Ninja Cat Manual” into English

The Ninja Cat Manual

The Ninja Cat Manual 2

The Ninja Cat Manual 3

The Ninja Car Manual 4

From September 20th to September 30th, I began revising & reposting earlier posts about User Experience. Here’s a link to the first:
Customer Experience does not equal Website Design

Turing’s Nightmares is a book of 23 Sci-Fi short stories that examine the future and the ethics of Artificial Intelligence. It’s available on Amazon, but you can also read the chapters in October, 2025 blog posts and commentary on the chapters in November blog posts.

November 28th, I began recounting a series of experiences illustrating the importance of problem formulation.

Problem Formulation Who Knows What?

Starting December 14th, there are a series of essays about various “Tools of Thought”

Tools of Thought


Have a *wonderful* 2026!

← 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...