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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: Democracy

Seed, Ground, Water, Light, Love

10 Thursday Mar 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cooperation, council, Democracy, legend, myth, peace, politics, story, Veritas, war

——————

After some delicate and delicious love-making with Shadow Walker, Many Paths decided to check on She Who Saved Many Lives. If she seemed well enough, it might also be good to see whether her mentor had any further wisdom to share about Many Path’s plan to gather all the tribes. Her goal was to bring about peace but she realized that in trying to accomplish that, she might trigger the very things she hoped to avoid. Her tentative plan was therefore to gather as much wisdom as she might from many sources — but not to wait overlong. As the story goes, she thought to herself, if you waste the entire warm season deciding where to plant, you will starve in the season of great ice and snow.

Many Paths called out to her friend and mentor and received a surprisingly strong and cheery response. “Come in, Many Paths. Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask your advice about something. Do sit down. I will get you a cup of tea this time.” 

Not for the first time, Many Paths wondered whether it was actually possible for She Who Saved Many Lives to see into her heart and mind. After serving them both a cup of spicebush tea, ever so slightly flavored with mint, She Who Saved Many Lives went to her work area and brought over two patches of weaving. She placed one on each knee of Many Paths. The older woman smiled and said, “It never fails to amaze me how strong a weave of reeds is! It’s so wonderful. Just as I hope our community is.”

“I have had that exact same though,” Many Paths replied. Then, she laughed and added, “Likely because you pointed that out to me before I was even old enough to remember.”

The Elder Shaman tilted her head and nodded ever so slightly. “Perhaps. But you have made so many wonderful discoveries. And, not only you but the entire tribe. That’s because you have been open to learning and seeing what is there. But enough of that. I did have a question for you. Which of these two do you think is better?”

Many Paths frowned. “Better for what? What are you making?”

She Who Saved Many Lives considered, “A basket to carry things.” 

Many Paths nodded, “What things and how many? This weave has these stiffer switches to help support the weight. If you’re making a small bag to collect mint, for example, you wouldn’t have any need. If you’re making a large bag to collect apples, however, you would want the extra structuring support.”

Photo by Pierpaolo Riondato on Pexels.com

She Who Saved Many Lives nodded. “Yes, yes. That sounds obvious when you say it. I guess the fever must have addled my brain a bit. Anyway, thank you for reminding me. Soon, I will have to decide on what I want to use the bag for; then I will know which one is likely correct. Now, what did you want to ask my advice on?”

Many Paths took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I am quite sure I didn’t say anything about asking your advice.” 

She Who Saved Many Lives nodded. “I think you’re right. Sometimes I confuse us.” She laughed. “I know it sounds crazy but any way, I will get back to my weaving — or at least deciding why I’m weaving and let you go about your business — unless, of course, there was something else you wanted to talk about.” 

Many Paths chuckled. “As it turns out, I did want to ask your advice about something. You know I want to convene a  — Let me ask you another question first. Are you going to teach me how to see into another person’s mind?”

She Who Saved Many Lives laughed surprisingly long. At last, she caught her breath and said, “Many Paths! You won all seven rings of empathy! Of course, you can see into others. Of course, you can never be perfect at it. But you already do it. I knew you were busy. Yet you came to see me. You probably wanted to see whether I was dead or not, but even your footsteps and the way you called out told me you had something else on your mind. In fact, whether you knew it or not, you assumed I was alive. There was no edge of anxious worry in your voice. It was friendly — but also a bit — plaintive. I knew you wanted something from me. Now, you can see I have very few possessions. I find too many to be intolerably distracting. I am not going to help you with any arduous physical task. What is left? You want to offer me the opportunity to share my experiences; that is a great gift. For once we die, what else is left? So, naturally, I am more than willing to try to see what grows from our discussion.” 

Many Paths looked down and slowly shook her head. She realized that she could read people. She simply forgot sometimes to do it. If you really take the time to put yourself in their sandals, of course, you can make a good guess at what they’re thinking, she thought. Aloud, she said, “Yes. You’re right. So, I want to convene the tribes and I am wondering how, exactly, to go about it. How can I make sure it helps bring greater peace and doesn’t somehow spark off violence. Maybe it’s better not to try?” 

She Who Saved Many Lives replied, “I can say that no-one has attempted to bring all the tribes we know about together — not in my lifetime or the lifetime of my mother or the lifetime of my mother’s mother. During that time, there have been many wars and other atrocities. People stealing other people’s children? Even in our own tribe, we had some who forgot they were not the Tree of Life but a small and temporary part of the Tree of Life. I judge it’s worth the attempt.”

Many Paths. “As to how…?” 

She Who Saved Many Lives said, “What comes to mind for what you are trying to do is more akin to growing things than it is to making things. I am making a basket, and I will use it for a time. I don’t ever imagine that it will live forever any more than that I will or you, my dear. But if I know your heart correctly, you don’t want to make a thing, which will at some time break or dissolve. You want to make something grow for a hundred years, like a giant oak. Ideally, it would be an oak that would seed still more oaks when old mother oak also died.” 

Many Paths nodded. She realized that her mentor had described her desires precisely even though she herself could not have articulated so succinctly. “Yes, that’s exactly right.”

She Who Saved Many Lives nodded. “Let’s suppose then that you want to plant something so that it’s likely to grow. What do you need?” 

“A seed. Fertile ground. Water. Sun. That’s it. Is there more? Love! It’s all more likely to grow with love.” 

She Who Saved Many Lives nodded. “Yes. That’s it. I would start with the love. You already have that. Then, you need to know what seed. The seed determines what will grow though not exactly how. But you will need the ground, water, and sun so it can grow at all.” 

Many Paths continued the thought stream. “If you know what the seed is, then, you know what kind of place to look for. You know whether you need to plant it in bright sunlight or in shade. You know whether it needs very fertile ground or if it can grow in dirt and rocks. And, you know whether it needs to be in very wet ground or if arid ground will do.”

“Yes,” Many Paths, “and it occurs to me, that you might choose a place with enough light first, because, you can make the ground more fertile and bring more water, if need be. But brining light is more difficult.” She Who Saved Many Paths sighed. “Once, apparently, we knew how to bring light as those which lit the tunnel that leads to the Veritas on the … on the other side of the mountain.” 

“I do wonder, Old Mother, whether such light would is strong enough to grow plants. And then, Shadow Walker used reflections of the sun, along with other captives, to escape from the City of the Z-Lotz. It seems too contrived and elaborate for growing plants, but … perhaps writing is a little like that when it comes to providing enough truth so that peace can grow. It allows you to bring the light of wisdom to places that are many days walk from where they started. More importantly, you can place the light in a different time as well. We have all learned so much from the books uncovered in the great library. But, as usual, you are right. We must determine what type of thing we want to grow. That decision will determine the type of seed. The type of seed will determine the proper material, sunshine, and water.”



Many Paths arose and began pacing around in the Old Leader’s shelter. “Of course, since the outcome could impact everyone, I need to know how everyone believes it should be. Or, at least, find out as much as they know about how they want it to be.”

“Yes.” She Who Saved Many Lives considered for a moment before answering. “I suspect some will have many ideas about that while others may not care that much. Nearly everyone wants peace. On other matters, there may be great differences.” 

Many Paths sat back down. The two sat in a comfortable silence for a time. Many Paths rose at last and said, “Thank you for sharing your wisdom. I will look for some to walk with me a bit and contemplate the plants and their nature and try to see among them what it is that the people may be seeking. I’m glad you seem so much better.” 

“As am I, Many Paths. You know, you give me much to live for.” She Who Saved Many Lives smiled and added, “But I do think I will lie down for a nap now. Though some time in the near future, I might accompany you on such a walk.”

Many Paths left and saw Shadow Walker coming toward her. From the look on his face, Many Paths judged he had some news. His smile broadened as he approached and he said, “Hello my love! Can we go for a bit of a walk?” 

———————

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Sonnet of Vlademort

06 Sunday Mar 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Democracy, poem, poetry, politics, Putin, sonnet, Ukraine

Photo by BROTE studio on Pexels.com

I lie!  I cheat! And then, I win! Makes ME
The best and baddest Putin-tate of all!
I kill my people who tell truth, you see,
I have to do it or I’ll seem so small. 

Photo by NEOSiAM 2020 on Pexels.com

I’m such a chicken and a rat,

I cannot fight myself, of course, so then

I send young men to kill and die and that?

It makes me feel most powerful! And, when

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The blood of babies, moms, and elderly

Flows through the streets that are not mine. 

My heart leaps up in joyous revelry.

It is my substitute for having spine.

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com



I steal the wealth of Russians in my thrall.
That’s not enough for me! I want it all!

Photo by Samira on Pexels.com

————————-

Absolute is not just a vodka (poem about dictatorship)

Overheard Conversations of Fiction (Between Putin & TFG)

Voter Suppression is Life Suppression (Essay showing why this is so)

Essays on America: Wednesday (How we can “paint ourselves into a corner” psychologically).

The Stopping Rule (The *lack* of stopping rule for Dictators is a problem; for any procedure, algorithm, or machine, there needs to be a stopping rule).

The Update Problem (Essay about how when things change, we don’t always update all the relevant attitudes & beliefs we have).

The Ailing King of Agitate (Poem about whomever comes to mind at the Title).

The Truth Train (Poem about TFG’s disastrous misleadership on COVID)

The Pandemic Anti-academic (Poem about how anti-intellectualism aided the COVID virus).

Poppa Goes the Weasel (Thoughts about Vlademort).

Life will Find a Way (More hopeful reflection on how life will find a way.)

Cancer always Loses in the End (Essay about how cancer is absurdly stupid. It kills wantonly and ensures its own death. Hmm. Sounds like someone in the news lately.)

At Least he’s Our Monster (Story illustrating the absurdity of people who think if they just kow-tow low enough to people like TFG & Vlademort, that they will show them loyalty back.)

Captain Donny Boy Steers the Titanic (Story with a pretty self-explanetory title).

The Con-Con-Man’s Special Friend (Reflections on the irony that while TFG uses people and never has true loyalty, he has apparently convinced himself that Putin who also uses people and never had true loyalty *does* have loyalty to TFG! That is a symptom of the disease of narcissistic personality disorder.)

Small Steps (So, in the midst of all the types of chaos that we face, what can we do? Here are some things).

Stoned Soup (A story that riffs on the folk story of Stone Soup — a community works together to make a wonderful soup through cooperation).

The Orange Man (Part of the lore of the Veritas, this tale shows how greed and lying together may result in disaster for many).

The Three Blind Mice (Another tale from the Veritas. This is a parable about how the powerful and greedy divide the people so as to stay in power).

All for One and None for Most (Poem with a self-explanatory title — what happens in dictatorships).

Lying to Your Kids (Why would you ever do that? And, yet people may be trying to trick you into that very thing)

My Cousin Bobby (My cousin Bobby conned me when we were young. More than once! How can we minimize the chances of being conned?)

Happy Talk Lies (This essay explores how people can continue to believe the incredible panoply of lies told by TFG over the past decade. He’s lied about virtually everything; yet some believe only him. It’s an addition, basically).

Where does your loyalty lie? (A good question to ask yourself. Here’s some of my reflection.)

Come back to the Light Side (It’s never too late to help our civilization survive and thrive).

Dick-Taters

05 Saturday Mar 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 81 Comments

Tags

Democracy, Dictatorship, politics, Putin, Ukraine, USA, Vote, war

Putting a dick-tater* [see below*] in charge of things has always been a very very bad idea. 

But in today’s world, this bad idea is worse than ever! 

There is still the problem that such a position appeals mainly to cruel and cowardly people. That results in the person who is in that position surrounding themselves, not with the best experts in the country, nor the most diverse range of opinions, but with people they can cow. 

Hence, you end up with someone predisposed to greed, cruelty, and cowardliness surrounding themselves with others who are cruel, greedy, and cowardly. The entire government decision making process ends up narrow, uncreative, and stupid. It was that way in ancient times and in the Middle Ages.

In those days, however, the whole of accurate human knowledge was much more limited than it is today. Today, even an actual genius (not a self-declared one) will know only a small fraction of the knowledge relevant to a given problem. That’s a bit of an issue for democratically elected leaders as well, but at least there is some chance that elected leaders will listen to a range of experts and make a decent decision. But in a dick-tater-$hit**, that almost never happens. 

Although a dick-tater is supposed to have infinite power, it’s actually just a public fiction. Of course, the people as a whole are way more powerful than the dick-tater. But the dick-tater tries to put everyone in fear of each other. They divide in order to conquer. If the people would all stop obeying stupid orders, the dick-tater-$hit would crumble. But it takes a lot of bravery to be the first one to disobey their orders. The first one will be killed. 

It takes even more bravery to be the second one. Because the second one to defy the Putintate (or whatever it’s called) has already seen the effects of radiation poisoning (or whatever other cowardly action was taken to silence the first). And, perhaps it takes even more courage to be the third person to work for the people rather than just please the dictator.

I enjoy playing chess myself. But it’s not that fun to simply stare at an empty chessboard. (I have actually done that to see how I can allocate my attention to various squares in the matrix, but that’s the subject of a different essay.) It gets old though. It’s certainly more fun to play chess. If you have no pieces however, it’s basically a boring game. It only works because you have pieces to move. If the pieces move on their own and express their basic nature as separate human beings, it’s disconcerting. But it’s even more disconcerting if there are no pieces whatsoever because you’ve murdered them all. 

NOTES:
* I use the term “dick-tater” because I think it shows a better derivation. Latin for “Say often or prescribe” is where “dictator” comes from. And although some dictators and would-be dictators are mouthy or whiney, they don’t really *say* things at all in the way most of us do. Most people, most of the time, say things so as to better communicate and to coordinate our work for the community. The purpose of a dick-tater is to control, not to share truths. So, I don’t like relating what a dick-tater does with words like “diction” or “predict.”

When we think about toxic masculinity, however, we often refer to someone who only has his own interests at heart with the answer to this question: “What do you call it when a needle when stabs into your skin?” Or, we sometimes use a person’s name — one that rhymes with “ick”. And the use of this word “dick” in that way is not at all inclusive of the many characteristics of male anatomy. When we say someone is a “dick”, we’re not saying he’s shaped like one, or that he changes size a lot, or that he’s used for urination. We refer quite specifically to someone being a dick as acting, perceiving, and actually being a certain way. It doesn’t really even have anything to do with sex, per se, although certainly a “dick” is likely to approach sex, like everything else in a selfish, dickish way. He might be prone to “grab women by the pu$$y” or rape them or pay for sex. But that has nothing to do with, e.g., the actual miniscuality of the mushroom in question. True, microsize might be part of the motivation for someone to “become a dick” (since they don’t really have much of one), but it need not go that way. 

The essence of the term refers only to the psychology behind what is being done. What is behind every perception, action, and decision is being an absolute coward. This is basically why the dick-tater seeks absolute power. He or she is too chicken to face a fair contest of any kind. They might lose. That is also why they are prone to pay for sex or sexually assault or molest someone younger. In all cases, they don’t have to face whether or not they will be accepted by their desired partner. It’s too scary for them. They might be rejected. But not if they can be bullied or forced or paid off. The slime invades every aspect of the dick-tater’s life.

No-one really knows exactly what causes people to be extremely (or sightly) sociopathic. It seems correlated with a lack of unconditional love given on the part of the parents. Criminality does tend to run in families but it’s unclear how much of that is due to which sorts of factors. In some ways, maybe it’s a lot like learning any other family business. This family tends to have good cooks. That family tends to have good crooks. In each case, the people in the family learn from each. Within this family there is an innately determined ability to imagine the result of combining tastes, while in that family people seem to have the natural talent to cause great wastes. 

Photo by Leonid Danilov on Pexels.com

Let’s move on to the “tater” part. When I think of a “tater” I think of “tater tot” and that too seems wildly appropriate. The “tater tot” is very appealing. And, it’s also very bad for you compared with most other foods; it’s high in fat, in calories, and in fast-absorbing carbs. And, typically, it comes with added heart-unhealthy sodium. So, in terms of what it means for a society, few things could be more appropriate metaphors. It looks attractive and yummy but what it really does it tend to kill you while it makes you feel good for a moment. But your kids and grandkids and great-grandkids won’t feel that moment that you’ll relish. All they’ll feel is endless frustration and despair of the situation you put them in. And utter hate.

Can you really blame them? 

The word “tater-tot” also has within in the two words, “tater” and “tot” and again both of these seem appropriate. A “tater” is a slang word for “potato” — a food which is something we can almost all relate to. I can’t think of anyone I know who doesn’t really like potatoes. Some only like French Fries while other prefer a Baked Potato. I like potatoes every way made that I’ve ever had: Baked, Fried, Scalloped, Potato Salad, German Potato Salad, boiled, mashed. The only “problem” with potatoes is that they don’t really solve the hunger problem very permanently. They are high calorie and the energy is quickly absorbed. This means your pancreas secretes insulin to drive your blood sugar level back down. And, since our biochemistry mainly evolved before French Fries, our pancreas thinks we are having a huge meal and sends way more than enough insulin. And, that drops your blood sugar level again.
So fifteen minutes after eating the French Fries with salt & ketchup (Yes, of course, I love them!) You feel wonderful! Yum! But an hour and a half after eating them you may feel hungrier than you did before you started! 

Photo by Robin Stickel on Pexels.com

That seems totally appropriate as a metaphor.

At last, we come to “tot.” It’s almost too easy and obvious, isn’t it? Many of us go through a phase as a toddler where we try this “I am the dictator of the world” and everyone must cater to me.” It doesn’t happen to everyone, but to far more than actually become dicks. It takes time and experience to understand how to be kind to people in all its complexity, but the basics are pretty easy, actually. So, most kids are “nice” to others most of the time. But there are a few who are not. And, then almost everyone has a bad day now and again. Now, personally, I was much more of a dick at age 13 than I was at 7, 8, 9, 10, or 11. Hormones? I don’t know. I just know it was so. Your mileage may differ. But, I think generally speaking, we would agree that dick-titorial behavior is childish behavior. It’s childish to be so self-centered that you care more about your own ego than about the fact that you’re killing women and children who have done nothing to hurt you. Nothing. 

So, where were we? Ah, yes, a dick-tater-$hit is a balancing act. Everyone around the dick-tater is afraid of that dick-tater. But at the same time, the dick-tater is scared of everyone around them! This means, among other things, that the dick-tater is always looking for external enemies in order to keep his inner ring from turning their gaze toward him and thinking how much better a job of it they could do. To avoid internal division, the dick-tater is always fomenting discord to outside enemies or to the “undesirables” within their own society. 

Good luck with that one! Because there is absolutely no way anyone can tell with certainty who or what is going to be called a deadly evil in a dictatorship ten years down the line. Just because a dictatorship begins by forbidding gay marriage in year one doesn’t mean they won’t require it next decade. “No, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t.”  Well, don’t be so sure. TFG, would-be tater-tot, was a liberal (gasp!) On many issues such as abortion, before getting into politics. Of course, he needs the support of his fans in order to gain absolute power, but not to keep it. Once the machinery of a dictatorship is well in place, it is very easy to target different groups at different times. If someone thinks they’re safe because the current dick-tater pretends to be a lot like them, they’re simply fooling themselves. First of all, they’re a lot less like the dick-tater than he would have you believe. Second, even if he were your identical twin, he’s out to steal from the people and if he can do that better by throwing you under the bus, he would sacrifice that twin brother. That’s what it means to be a dick-tater: No-one else really matters; you sizzle them with flashy illusion but there’s nothing lasting or substantive; you appeal to the selfish child that lives in everyone. That child was formed before you learned about logic and evidence and facts versus opinions. Why appeal to the rational mind who might (in fact, likely would) see right through your web of lies? Instead, promise them something wonderful and undefined. Whenever you need a bump in popularity, tell them you’ve achieved one of those wonderful things. 

You don’t actually have to achieve anything. You simply have to direct newspapers and social media what to say about your wonderful achievement. Oh, and let’s not forget to jail or poison any journalist who reports on the truth. Eventually, people will begin to catch on despite the dick-tater’s insistence on the web of lies. Eventually, everyone knows the emperor has no clothes. But he simply makes it known that anyone who mentions it will be decapitated which is ironic in that it’s actually the state that needs to be decapitated. 

[Notes: (cont.) ** The suffix “$hit” is appended dick-tater in order to form the word for the type of government. I find the suffix: “ship” leaves me adrift. Maybe running a country is like running a ship? I think the most we can say about “ship” is that it is used to make a collective out of individuals. Partners form a partnership. Towns form a township. But…? Dick-taters make a dick-tater-ship? I guess to some extent that is true. The people closes to the Dick-Tater also have to be pretty cowardly. And so on. The further away you get from the dick-tater, the braver people tend to be. They almost have to because they have far less power. The dick-tater rules because he has power. But what is that power? He doesn’t physically have control over very many.

There are agreements throughout the society that enforce the power. On any given day, everyone could wake up and simply stop enforcing them. After all, they might ask themselves, “Why should the dick-tater be the only one in the country allowed to break his promises? Anyway, I promised I would protect Mother Russia from attack, not that I would attack my neighbors who pose no threat to me.” Those are uncomfortable questions for a dick-tater to answer. So he won’t. To survive in a dick-tater-$hit you need to bribe people. Hence, the dollar sign. Because the rule of law means nothing and the truth means nothing and fair play means nothing and raw power means everything, you and me and everyone we care about will be in something and believe me that thing we will be in is not a ship. 

Destroying the idea of democracy is like trying to chain a cloud, Vlademort. Give it up.

Absolute is not just a vodka

The Siren Song

Poppa Goes the Weasel

All for One & None for Most

The Orange Man

Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

Thrumperdome

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

Essays on America: The Game

Donnie Plays Bull Dazzle Man

Donnie Plays Doctor Man

Donnie Learns Golf

Donnie Plays Soldier Man

Donnie Visits Granny

Donnie Gets a Hamster

Donnie Takes a Blue Ribbon for Spelilng

Donnie Gets his Name on a Tennis Trophy

Donnie Lets his Brother Take the Fall

Donnie Watches a Veterans Day Parade

Ramming Your Head into a Brick Wall does not Make you a Hero

“There is always light if only we are brave enough to be it.” — Amanda Gorman

Poppa Goes the Weasel

28 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

bully, coward, Democracy, Dictatorship, Ukraine, USA

The mulberry bush isn’t much to look at right now – the vertical bare mini-trunks near the red leaves on the left are the mulberry bush’s.

“All around the truthberry bush 

The monkey chased the weasel.”

All dictators are bullies.
All bullies are cowards.
Therefore, all dictators are cowards. 

In case you don’t already know that. 

Dictators secretly believe, like Voldemort, that if only they are cruel enough and destroy enough “enemies” they will live forever. 

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

They won’t. 

In the attempt to kill off all their enemies, they will make more enemies. Therefore they will stay afraid all their lives. They are not just running from enemies; they are running from life. To embrace life, whether you are dancing, loving, creating, building — there is always some degree of danger.

If you dance, you may fall.

If you love, you may lose your love.

If you create, you might fail. 

If you build, things might fall on you. 

But what is the alternative? 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The alternative chosen by dictators is to surround himself (or, rarely, herself) with sycophants. Sycophants, in case you don’t know, are even more cowardly than the dictator. In return for small favors, they tell the dictator whatever the dictator wants to hear. As a result, the dictator becomes more and more unhinged from reality. This makes them ever less effective. As they grow less effective, they realize that they must lie even more to keep their power. As they do so, it becomes more and more obvious to everyone that they are ineffective. At first, people who are distant from the dictator realize the ineffectiveness of the dictator. But over time, as the ineffectiveness increases, even people close to the web of lies see that how absurd the whole thing is. Yet, if they are close to the dictator, they’re in a bad position. If they do tell the truth, they’ll be the first to go. 

This behavior is nicely portrayed in the movie, The Deathly Hallows: Part Two. The destruction of one of Voldemort’s horcruxes staggers him. One of his minions asks whether he’s okay. What does Voldemort do? Does he say, “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.”

Oh, no. He performs the killing curse on his own follower; in this case, the follower wasn’t betraying his master or even questioning him explicitly. But implicitly, his comment questioned whether Voldemort was perfect, immortal, invincible. And, to a deranged Voldemort, that is the very issue he is destroying the world in order to keep himself from realizing: that he is vulnerable. Of course he is. Everyone is. The only things that are invulnerable are dead things.
But in the extreme case, precisely because vulnerability so obviously is part of all life, Voldemort fights more desperately to deny the truth. As it turns out, it’s precisely the bullies and the cruel dictators of this world who are the actual snowflakes “who can’t handle the truth.” 

In honor of Ukraine and Ukrainians. May we all be so brave when we are tested.

“All around the lie-berry bush, 

The monkey chased the weasel.”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

———————

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

It’s not your fault; send me money

Plans for us; some GRUesome

All for one and none for most

Life is a dance

Take a glance join the dance

Essays on America: The Game

Create Peace

Small Steps

27 Sunday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Democracy, hope, Humankind, Kindness, life, Resist, Resistance, Ukraine

Small Steps.

Take small steps. 

Be kind to those around you. 

The ruthless dictators of the world stand poised to take their last stand against democracy; against decency; against a world of enough for everyone.

They need inequality. You don’t. 

They need lies. You don’t.

They need wars. You don’t. 

They pretend they have great power. They don’t. 

If Putin’s army decided to do it, they could turn back and liberate their own people.
If Putin’s inner circle decided he was too unstable to rule, they could put in a new “leader.” If he’s a dictator, he too will eventually become unstable. It’s an occupational “hazard” that is a certainty.  By surrounding themselves with “yes-men” and cowardly sycophants afraid to tell the truth, dictators virtually guarantee that they will overestimate their own power and capabilities over time. The same thing happens to drug lords, autocratic bosses, and abusive spouses. 

Human beings are fundamentally social animals. 

Be kind to those around you.

No matter how strong, or smart, or creative a person is, if they really disconnect from their society and their world, they will accomplish little. They can destroy. Just like cancer, they can kill. But they cannot actually accomplish much. 

No-one has infinite energy and attention. A dictator spends so much energy on protecting themselves and consolidating their power, that they have almost nothing left over for actual governance. In addition, since they surround themselves with feckless chickens, they never even get the information that they would need in order to improve their governance.

Dictators destroy the free press. That helps them mislead the people they enslave. At the same time, in ensures that they lose touch with reality.

How can we help save democracy half a world away? 

Photo by RF._.studio on Pexels.com

Be kind to those around you.

Be vigorous in pursuing the truth.

Be kind to those around you.

Get involved in your local politics. Make sure your own elections are fair. Make democracy strong where you are. 

Be kind to those around you. 

Photo by Eileen lamb on Pexels.com

Dictators and would-be dictators seek to divide the people so they hate each other rather than the one who actually wants to enslave them. 

Be kind to those around you.

Dictators not only know no true love themselves; they hate love. They will seek to destroy it. They need a society where mothers inform on their daughters and sons inform on their fathers; where wives inform on their husbands; where brothers inform on their sisters. The dictator wants all loyalty to accrue to them — though they have zero true loyalty to anyone else.

Be kind to those around you. 

If you feel dislike or hatred for another group, ask yourself who benefits from that. Hint: It won’t be you. It won’t be the person(s) you dislike. So who does benefit? While you’re trying to figure that out, you may as well take small steps toward a better world — small steps that hurt no-one. 

Be kind to those around you. 

Any step in that direction is a step in the right direction. 

——-

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Stoned Soup

The Tale of the Three Blind Mice

Siren Song

If you’re so smart, why aren’t you rich? 

Dictatorships: All for one and none for most

We’re all in this together

The “All for me!” Bee 

Life will find a way

Fish have no word for water

Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

Come together right now

The Mud Pit

Lying to your kids

Happy Darwin Day

The Power of the Unbrella 

P is for Politics

Essays on America: The Game

Take Me For A Ride in the Car Car!

26 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

collaboration, cooperation, Democracy, Dictatorship, essay, problem solving, Ukraine, USA

Do you remember the song, “Take me for a ride in the car car”? Here’s a link to one popular version. Peter, Paul, & Mary also sang it. Nice song. But you may have experienced it being repeated too often. At a certain age, some kids seem to discover that they can be really annoying simply by singing a song over and over and over and over. 

When I was in my early teens, I took a car trip with my Uncle Paul and his wife and three kids out to see his brother Bob who headed up a psychiatric hospital in Pennsylvania. It was a long drive. At some point, to pass the time, we sang some songs. When the last song was over, Paul’s youngest son began to make up new verses for one of the songs. At first, it was rather cute to watch him try to build a story, rhyme, and keep in tune, none of which he actually succeeded in. But after about a quarter hour, he began to annoy people with his off-key, non-rhyming, senseless continuations of the song. After about a half hour he was annoying everyone. After an hour, we began to discuss leaving him by the side of the road and returning in another ten years to see whether he was still there. 

On car trips, we used to play a number of games to pass the time; e.g., seeing how many different states license plates we found find. Later, I learned to play “The Alphabet Game.” There are several versions, but basically, you must find, in order, the letters of the alphabet from passing cars, signs, etc. Stuff inside your own car cannot be used. (You could easily find all the letters in a book or magazine). I’ve learned to know where to look for J, Q, and Z. I’ve been in cars where we played twenty questions, Botticelli, Buzz, and Ghost. When I was a kid, I also simply looked out the window to entertain myself. Sometimes, I would imagine that the dotted lines that divide the lanes were like tracer bullets shot from our car. Then, I would watch to see whether another car got “blown up” because they crossed our fire. I would also imagine myself “flying” alongside the car, having to bob and weave to avoid telephone poles, trees, signposts, etc. 

Traveling in a car with a family or with a group of friends or your car pool is potentially a social opportunity as well as an opportunity to save money. Since you’re in the same car, you need to agree on destination. To some extent, you need to agree on temperature & what to do about the windows. As a kid, everyone also lived in the same “sonic space.” We would have to “agree” on a game or on a radio station. This is no longer the case. Now, often times, everyone in the family may have their own individual entertainment. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? 

Even in the modern day, driving in a car with others is different from driving in a car on your own. If you’re by yourself, you can decide on the temperature and entertainment without having to take into account anyone else’s wishes. If others are in the car, some kind of negotiations have to take place. 

At least, that’s what most people do. You could decide: “Hey! It’s my car so I’m going to drive and I get to determine everything about our common space — temperature, entertainment, windows, whether we stop, etc.” This is what is known in academic circles as the “A$$hole theory of cooperation”: Get everything you possibly can for yourself and to hell with everyone else. And after all, they’re doing the same exact thing. 

Notice too that to some degree, the amount of accommodation you have to do depends on how much humanity is in the car besides yourself. It also depends on how “luxurious” your vehicle is. If you have a tour bus or a camper, six people might be relatively comfortable. If it’s a VW bug, you won’t be. You’ll not only be crowded; you’ll have to be careful every time you move not to accidentally elbow someone in the eye. Have you ever been in that crowded of a situation for hours at a time or even days at a time? 

Photo by Life Matters on Pexels.com

It isn’t just cars. In general, the more people occupy a given space, the more they are going to have to cooperate in order to survive and thrive. You can provide individuality support with technology, up to a point. In a way, clothing is like that. We can peacefully co-exist in a car without either of us compromising out comfort because I can wear a sweater and you can wear a thin shirt. You can provide everyone an iPhone and everyone can play their own game without having to agree on a common game. Of course, there’s a downside to that. First, we don’t have practice getting along with others. Second, we don’t share a common experience. 

Even if the “typical” family of four interrupts their car trip and stops for lunch and agrees to talk, they are likely coming from very different places. Dad has been listening to Mozart and was in good mood until he suddenly remembered he was supposed to have sent out a memo to everyone in the department about last month’s sales figures. Damn. Maybe he can do it from the Motel but it will take longer than it would have at work. His son Sam, meanwhile, was trying to use sexting to convince his girlfriend to “take their relationship to the next level.” As a result, they just broke up. Dad doesn’t know a thing about that; nor does Sam know anything about why Dad suddenly seems put out. Mom meanwhile, was listening to Fox “News” where she “learned” that it’s Biden’s fault Putin “had to” attack the Ukraine because Biden was too tough on Russia and also too easy. Her daughter Sally, on the other hand, has spent the last 45 minutes on twitter learning about the Putin invasion. She is wondering whether atomic war might start. 

Now, they stop for lunch. That’s nice. And, maybe they’ll talk about something common; perhaps the weather, or the scenery or the food. But they might just revert to what they were doing before they got together at the restaurant. Even if they all have the willpower to put away their personal devices, they are still coming from very different places emotionally and experientially. Dad might make a comment about how he forgot to write an important e-mail and he’ll have to do it from the Motel. Sam just shakes his head and says, “Important e-mail? My life is ruined! What do you care?” 

Dad might say, “What do you mean by saying that your life is ruined?”

Sam might even share, “Jackie broke up with me!” 

Dad, meaning well, and wanting to offer a solution before he starts reminiscing about his own high school days, blurts out: “Oh, Sam, don’t worry about it! You’ll have another girlfriend in a week.” 

That may well be empirically true. But to Sam? He feels he has just lost the love of his life. His father’s comment seems to him to be dismissive of his feelings to the point of cruelty.  

Sally pipes up, “How can you be worried about such trivial things as e-mail and dates when we might be blown to smithereens at any moment? Do you ever pay any attention to the world outside yourself? Putin is a monster killing innocent civilians so he can slake the thirst of his pathetic ego!” 

Mom is taken aback. The only news she doesn’t dismiss as “lies that are out to get Trump” has been Fox “News” for the last few years. She says, “Don’t be saying bad things about Putin! He’s a nice man who just wants his Ukraine back.” 

Sally’s jaw drops. “Are you serious! He kills journalists who write the truth about him. He’s a corrupt crime lord. He played Trump like a fiddle … no … not that complicated … played him like a drum … no … still too complicated … played him like the triangle. You know. Bang it every once in awhile and it reverberates. Anyway, it isn’t “his” Ukraine. It belongs to the Ukrainian people!”

Some families are better at getting through all this than others. These four have not shared a common experience and are coming from very different places. If they have no practice playing a game according to a common set of rules, what chance to they have to settle deeper differences? 

Maybe avoiding little conflicts by giving everyone their own personal entertainment device means that when much bigger and more difficult conflicts arise, no-one remembers how to resolve things. Why shouldn’t everything by how I want it? Let others do the same! Let the best man win!

Except, of course, it isn’t the best man or woman who actually wins in a land where no-one plays by the rules. It’s the most corrupt. And the net result of everyone spending so much time competing and so little, if any, time cooperating is that nothing much is actually accomplished. It doesn’t even work very well in a small group. In a large nation, a dictatorship is almost invariably associated with less for everyone except the dictator and the immediate surround. Dictatorships do sometimes manage to steal from neighbors who are productive because they are cooperative. If all countries were dictatorships, they would all perish, probably in atomic war, but possibly in ecological collapse or just mass suicide. 

In 2018, I worked on a “Pattern Language” for collaboration and cooperation. Here’s a link to an index of the Patterns. One of them is called “Small Successes Early.” Should I be worried that we seem to be moving into a world where there are fewer and fewer opportunities for peacefully resolving small conflicts? Avoiding unnecessary conflict seems like a good thing. But … is the downside that people have no practice resolving conflicts? And, is the further downside, that people eventually end up with huge differences in their notions of reality when it really matters? It seems to be the very thing that Faux News has been counting on; that people would not only listen to them but not listen or dismiss any other views. As a result, people end up with very different models and explanations of the world. That is always a bad thing, but in a world where people are unpracticed at resolving conflicts, it’s even more problematic.

There is always a tradeoff between cooperating as a whole and letting each individual do as they wish. One thing seems crystal clear. As the number of people in your car increases, their individual freedom to do just as they please decreases. So, too, with the world. In my own lifetime, the population of the world has quadrupled. Of course, it’s not equally distributed. People are more concentrated in cities than ever before. Many of these cities are located on ocean coasts. What does the continuation of global warming mean to population migration and crowding?

I’m not sure how many people realize this, but we’re still in a pandemic. If people were very sparsely populated, we probably wouldn’t be. But as we continue to get more crowded, humanity will become more susceptible to pandemics. That in turn, means people will have to accommodate to each other’s needs. As a background rule, a person can choose to wear what they want. There are, of course, many exceptions to that. In many situations, you have to wear a shirt and shoes. In some situations, you have to wear a suit and tie or a uniform. If you might be spraying germs at other people, it seems totally reasonable to change your behavior or clothing to minimize that spread. But some people apparently think that they should be able to do exactly as they want regardless of the consequences to others.

Toddlerhood Nation

As the earth becomes more crowded, we need to be more cooperative, not less. The presence of a large number of deadly weapons also makes it more important to cooperate. The race to ensure survival by having ever larger numbers of ever more deadly weapons is not a path toward that greater cooperation. Dictators, for instance, tilt toward war to consolidate their power.



Create Peace

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Where does your loyalty lie? 

My Cousin Bobby

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem

Essays on America: Wednesday

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Myths of the Veritas: The Three Blind Mice

Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

All for One; and None for Most

21 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Democracy, Dictatorship, poem, poetry, politics, Putin, USA

His balls aren’t made of solid brass; 

He’s nothing but a pompous ass.

He crows as though he’s made of gold.

His con is simple and it’s old:

Divide the people so the few

Can rule the many just like you. 

The game is old; the outcome cold.

The dice are loaded ere they’re rolled.

The wealthy own the megaphones;

The poor must chew on meatless bones. 

It would not work except for lies.

The end result is corpse and flies. 

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

“It isn’t an apocalypse!”

He lies with sickly pouty lips. 

“It’s all for me; that much is true. 

But if you’re nice, there’s some for you!

If you’re not happy as my slave, 

You don’t accept my crazy rave!”

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

“It’s all your fault for having thought. 

My bald-faced lies you should’ve bought!” 

The King who now owns everything,

He wants to teach the mass to sing: 

“Oh, let me serve you all my life;

Please take my house, my soul, my wife.” 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

And for a time, the rich survive, 

And steal from all as they connive.  

Of course, at last, with poor too sick

To work the fields; to lay a brick; 

It all falls down as shredded dreams. 

Dictatorship is what it seems: 

Photo by Julius Silver on Pexels.com

It’s All for One and None for Most. 

Small scraps for you while king gets roast. 

This land of brown’s a fitting crown. 

Above his bloody toothless frown. 

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

The hate he feels for all of life

Now manifests as war and strife. 

The trees are gone; the crops have failed. 

The books are burned; the good are jailed. 

It seems as though a land of lies

Becomes a land of death and flies. 

Photo by Leonid Danilov on Pexels.com

When we look back it seems so clear. 

Embrace a lie — you’ll lose what’s dear. 

The world indeed has gone to seed. 

Dictatorship fills no-one’s need. 

The watery gruel; the rules are cruel. 

The victim’s blamed for losing the duel. 

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Unfair, one-sided, though it may be. 

The zombies dance the jubilee! 

They dance around; they love the sound!

Of flaming witches burned to ground!

It matters not their crimes aren’t real.

Cold cruelty to others is part of the deal! 

But Life is Love made manifest.

A hate that kills will kill the best. 

A hate that grows as everyone knows

Will lead to carcass-gnawing crows.

And in return — the sole bright spot:

Apotheosis for a snot. 

Photo by BROTE studio on Pexels.com

As other cultures waxed and waned.  

So too will this one once de-brained. 

And if this vision seems absurd

Then try your best to spread the word. 

Dictators always sue for war.

It’s never enough; they want still more. 

It’s death and dying that’s supplied

When steered by frauds who’ve always lied. 

It’s All for One and None for Most.

Dictators live on lies and boast. 

They slither into caverns deep.

And there, they dream that all will weep. 

Photo by icon0.com on Pexels.com

At last, of course, they die alone. 

To choose to kill; embrace the moan

Of death that’s dealt to innocence

Makes not a single ounce of sense. 

This Life sees nothing more obscene 

Than one who kills to steal the scene. 

Betraying all the lives before,

So he can die with a higher “score.” 

———— 

Author Page on Amazon

Plans for US; some GRUesome

Absolute is not just a vodka

Short stories to show how the mind of sociopath works:  Link to the first

The Ailing King of Agitate

Try the Truth

Why Dictators almost always choose war Link

Poker Chips

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Guernica

For those who seek cooperation rather than violence, these attempts to capture “best practices” in collaboration and teamwork might be useful. Here’s a link to the index.

Here’s a link to the first of two essays about creative negotiation.

These stories (with a link here) explore leadership and empathy.

“There is always light if only we are brave enough to see it; if only we are brave enough to be it.”

— Amanda Gorman

While not being naive about the real dangers of dictatorship, one way to push against that is actually to be more loving and kind and accepting than you already are. Think on that. And have a wonderful day.

— John

Lying to your Kids

13 Sunday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Democracy, essay, fiction, politics, Resistance, story, truth, USA

Lying to your Children: Lie for me

The squealing brakes startled Josh awake. He screamed. Only for a moment. Because he felt as much as heard, that something was wrong. Beside him, in the driver’s seat, Josh’s dad, Ron, cursed incoherently, though remarkably loudly & quickly. After a few moments of this, Ron turned to Josh like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Josh had no idea what he had done wrong, but he anticipated the usual slap. Only harder. He closed his eyes.

No slap came. Instead, Ron grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him while screaming: “Listen to me! Open your eyes! Look at me! Nothing happened! Got it? Nothing happened! Say it! Tell me nothing happened!” 

Josh was more than fully awake now. He was used to going from sleep to panic in one thunderous heartbeat ever since Mom had run off with that Jared guy. But what nothing was dad talking about…? Suddenly, Josh remembered … there was a heavy THUD! Someone had screamed. They must have hit someone. Now, Dad’s trying to cover it up. 

Running through the entire list of strategies in his communications playbook, Ron decided that if his son didn’t understand, it was now necessary to repeat what was said before but more loudly and with stronger shaking of the shoulders and with an even more menacing look. So, that’s what he did. 

But this time Josh had worked it out. He knew what was required.
“Daddy! Nothing happened!” 

Ron’s face melted back into one that looked vaguely human as he said, “That’s right! That’s right! And, now listen here! This is important! If anyone else asks you, you just say you don’t know nothing and nothing happened. You got that?” 

Josh nodded solemnly, pretending to be completely in awe of and compliant for Ron — something he had learned long ago as a survival strategy.  

The police interview went something like this: 

Police Officer: “So Josh. Tell me about where you were and what you did last evening.” 

Josh: “Sure, Officer. Nothing happened. I mean I went with my dad to see that new movie, The Raiders of the Lost Arc. It was great! And, then, nothing happened. I don’t remember. My dad drove home and I fell asleep. Nothing happened. I don’t remember. Any other questions?” 

Police Officer: “Josh, did your daddy tell you to say that nothing happened? Did he make you promise?” 

Josh: “I don’t remember! Nothing happened!”

Police Officer: “Okay, Josh. I think we get the picture. Thank you for your help.

Josh went out and saw his dad about to be taken into an interrogation room. As he passed by, Josh used a stage whisper to his dad: “I did just like you told me, Dad.” 

Photo by Cameron Casey on Pexels.com

Dad was put away for a good long time. 

Sadly, although Josh came out ahead in this particular snippet of his life, learning to become a more clever liar is not really a good long-term strategy. Josh discovered this for himself, on the way down. Oddly, people said, he was killed by the fall. Of course, in truth, very few people die from falls, per se. It is the landing that kills. 


Moral of the Story: Telling a lie to your kids is like giving them a poison. 

Sometimes, it’s fast acting poison.

Sometimes, it’s slow acting poison. 

But it’s always poison.

And, here’s the real magic of it. It’s poison for the lie teller as well! Yes, indeed! It is a double-edged sword extraordinaire because it cuts the sword wielder as well as the sword shielder. 

Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com

Can you ever imagine that you would intentionally tell your kid the wrong way to perform a skill so that they would get fewer hits, or throw more errors, or serve more double faults, or hurt themselves with tools? Of course not! If they were about to go into a road race, would you cut their brake lines? Of course not! But propagating a lie is exactly like that — handicapping one’s own children in their coming attempts to survive in this world.

Propagating a lie is a big deal. And propagating a Big Lie is an even bigger deal. Whatever the reason, it’s something whose harm is more like a plague or a cancer than a punch. The poison spreads often well beyond the liar and the original target of the lie. When more people lie in the society, there is less trust. When there is less trust, there is more need for regulation and coordination. That inevitably results in friction. So long as all parties play by the rules and tell the truth, it will eventually be resolved and there will be an increase in trust. However, if one side cheats and lies, no matter who wins, there will be a ripple of distrust all through society. 

Which is kind of the point, you see? 

Josh’s dad Ron may not have known how his actions would undermine his own life as well as his son’s. But the people trying to destroy American Democracy? They know exactly why they’re spreading lies and what it will mean. They are spreading the cancer of distrust and division intentionally. Why? Because dividing is how the few conquer the many. It’s a playbook that has been run over and over and over in human history.

Think about it. 

How can a relatively small group of criminals take over a country? They can do it by distracting everyone else into thinking the enemy is not the crime gang but the other victims of the theft of a nation. They cannot possibly do it by telling the truth. The truth is that only the ruling crime family will necessarily benefit by a dictatorship. Nor can the Crime Family take over by force. There are far too few of them. And, they are cowards to boot. They could co-opt the military. They tried that but it didn’t work. 

Telling poisonous lies is their major remaining option. 

It’s evil, but it’s understandable, given that all they care about is power. 

But ordinary people lying to their own children? 

There’s something deeply disturbing about that, most especially when the lie isn’t even for the benefit of anyone involved. 

The parent won’t benefit. 

The child won’t benefit. 

No-one who overhears the lie will benefit. 

The only person who benefits is the would-be Diktator of AmeriKKKa (let’s use “Dik” for short) because the lying parent is practicing giving away their own agency and putting it in the hands of the Dik. It’s no accident that some of the lies put their own life at risk along with the lives of their family & friends. They are being trained to put the Dik above the life and welfare of what they previously loved most dearly in the world. 

Photo by Izaac Elms on Pexels.com

—————————

Essays on America: Labelism 

Essays on America: The Game

Identity Theft

Absolute is not just a vodka 

A Lot is not a little 

Stories of a fictional child sociopath

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Author Page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior – Sports psychology book aimed to help you win more — whatever that means for you.

Turing’s Nightmares — SciFi scenarios about the possible future impacts of AI on our lives, our families, our society.

Fit in Bits — How to stay more fit by working more variety & fun into daily activities.

Tales from an American Childhood — A partial autobiography that examines incidents from the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues.

P is for Politics

08 Tuesday Feb 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Democracy, peace, poem, poetry, politics, Resistance, USA

Politics starts with P

Often politics stars with P

Political Posturing has twice as much P

The former Pee-Resident really put the Pee in Politics

Thank his Pal who got him Putin office. 

Photo by Julius Silver on Pexels.com

Pride begins with P

Prejudice begins with P

Petulance and Pestilence 

And Putrid and Pathetic

Did I mention Putin and Putin’s Puppet?

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

 

Perhaps, we the People ought to ban the letter P.

Phase out Paranoia and 

Purge Pathetic Pain and Pelf.

Purloin the letter P.

Proscribe it from the alphabet!


It seems the perfect plan!

But can we stand to ban the plum? 

Dare we deign to eat no peach?

Would we desire a pleasureless life? 

Would endless strife surpass our Peace? 

But then a thought occurs to me:

What if banning letter P

Doesn’t even impact what is real?

It’s just a game to make us squeal. 

Photo by Charlie Solorzano on Pexels.com

Imagine folks who lie

And ban the naming of that lie.

Imagine folks who beat

And steal your winter wheat. 

To get away with crime,

More than just one at a time.

Easier just to break all law.

Do it once & hide the flaw. 

Now your gang can really go to town!

Turn it all — all upside down! 

And if you are blind enough to think

Capitol attack is peachy pink.

Photo by Todd Trapani on Pexels.com

Could never come your way 

Well, guess again, I say.

There will be so many deaths

It will take away your breath

s.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

The label’s not the thing

Wherein we’ll catch the king. 

What happens in our life

Determines peace or strife. 

Here’s the path to paradise:

Garden, love and plant a pine.

Be sort of nice; not blind of mind;

Being kind works many a time.

We will paradize our place.
And love our human race.

—————————-

Essay on America: Labelism 

Identity Theft

Where does your loyalty lie? 

My Cousin Bobby

The Ailing King of Agitate

Guernica

The only “them” that matters is all of us

Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

Siren Song

The Mud Pit

We’re all in this together

Fire and Ice

The All for me Bee

Life Will Find a Way

Author Page on Amazon

“It is in our very nature 

To improve our very nature.” 

Siren Song

23 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 45 Comments

Tags

Con Game, Democracy, Dictatorship, poem, poetry, truth, USA

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

Listen to my siren song!

Everyone! Look over here! Look over here! 

I’ll say who makes your life so badly suck!

You need to know who takes your share.

No, no, NO! Don’t ever look over there! 

Don’t see the rich who pay no tax!

Don’t ever, ever look at facts!

Photo by Julius Silver on Pexels.com

Listen to my siren song!

Engage your rage!

I’ll build your cage!

I will help you cop a feel!

I will teach you how to steal!

I will tell you who is wrong!

Just listen to my siren song!

Photo by Mau00ebl BALLAND on Pexels.com

A pain in the ass to think it through!

And, there’s no need; believe my creed! 

I’ll show you now a real good time! 

What I do cannot be crime! 

See my flag of “FREEDOM!” red?

I must care a lot! Just like I said!

If it’s all just part of my rant

What more to do? You can’t! 

Photo by Denniz Futalan on Pexels.com

Just listen to my siren song!

Hate the people not like you.

Hate the folks of different hue.

Hate the folks who eat strange things.

Hate everyone I tell you to!

A different accent, different song, 

I’ll teach you that these things are wrong! 

Give me the power to fix it all.

Democracy’s no longer cool!

Once it’s gone we’ll have a ball!

(Oh, my God, you’re easy to fool!)

Photo by BROTE studio on Pexels.com

By twenty thirty, air’ll be dirty. 

By twenty forty, water too. 

But what care we

For ecology?!

A habitable world’s for liberal wussies! 

Caring for others is just for pussies! 

Just listen to my siren song!

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

I’ll get rich if you send me money!

If we kill the bees, eat plastic honey!

It’s just as good; I can’t be wrong!

Just listen to my siren song! 

Legitimate voters vote for me! 

That’s the way to victory!

We’ll have a country white as snow!

And if I steal, you’ll never know!

A perfect system for all who matter.

And that’s just me so I’ll get fatter!

Just listen to my siren song! 

You can’t go wrong; my lie’s so strong! 

Just listen to my siren song! 

Just listen to my siren song!

Just listen to my siren song. 

And when your freedom’s finally dead.

Don’t worry at all your pretty head. 

If you can’t eat or pay the rents

I might just let you live in tents. 

Just listen to my siren song! 

Just listen to my siren song!

Photo by David Cassolato on Pexels.com


You’ll never have to think again!

You’ll never have to right a wrong!

You need not care if sins are sin. 

You’ll become my little puppet.

I’ll open a tube; you’ll go up it.

Jump on command and drink what I say;

Don’t think at all beyond today. 

Just listen to my siren song. 

Such tasty Kool-aid can’t be wrong!

Don’t take a look at history! 

Just swallow my miracle mystery! 

Just follow my nice little siren song. 

Photo by Leonid Danilov on Pexels.com

Your life’s now mine! And, how divine!

You listened to my siren song. 

I own your brain; you’ll need no spine. 

That spark divine was such a pain; 

You had to take responsibility. 

So much easier when I own your brain.

No need to feed your creativity. 

You only need to sing my siren song. 

Every day from morn till night.

And if you ever come to see it’s wrong? 

My troops will come and douse your light. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Don’t go thinking far ahead.

You shouldn’t care if you’re live or dead.

So long as you can help me rule! 

You deserve to play the fool.

And keep on singing my siren song. 

Insisting that you’re never wrong.

Dwelling on the sound of every word. 

You play the clown; all thought abjured. 

Singing still my siren song. 

Just listen to my siren song. 

You’ll soon believe that right is wrong.

You’ll soon believe that weak is strong. 

Listen to my siren song.

—————

Trumpism is a new religion

Essays on America: Wednesday

Absolute is not just a vodka

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

The Ailing King of Agitate

Plans for us; some GRUesome

Where does your loyalty lie?

My cousin Bobby.

Come back to the light

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