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Tall Trees; High Vines

08 Wednesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in health, politics, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

disease, empathy, ethics, fables, leadership, legends, myths, pandemic, tracking, Veritas

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It only made sense for Eagle Eyes to go first. Still, it made Shadow Walker uneasy in some way he couldn’t — or wouldn’t — define. It was true enough that Eagle Eyes could spot a trail from farther away than — than anyone Shadow Walker could think of. But this trail…! It was just as easy to follow as the first one laid down by The People Who Steal Children. Shadow Walker, and the rest of the party had excused the obviousness of the first trail as being due to the difficulty of trying to hide horse tracks, but this time, the foursome they were tracking were all on foot. 

Shadow Walker had been worried about waiting a day before beginning their tracking, but he was grateful that he had had that last day — and night — with Many Paths. He began to cast his mind back to those delicious moments…

Ahead of him, Shadow Walker saw Eagle Eyes put up her hand and crouch down. Shadow Walker dropped to his hands and knees and silently crawled up behind her. Then, she stood up and turned around. 

“Look at these tracks, Shadow.” 

Shadow Walker felt annoyed. First, she acted like there was danger. Now, she’s just talking out loud. But mainly, he realized, he was annoyed because she broke his pleasant revelry. He followed her pointing figure though.

“What is going on, Eagle Eyes?” 

Eagle Eyes shook her head. “I’m not sure. The only thing … it reminds me of … one time, Stone Chipper smoked some Jimsonweed and … after awhile, he staggered about talking nonsense. I haven’t seen any Jimsonweed along this path. Did you happen to notice any?” 

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“No, but … that’s a handprint. What…?” They followed the tracks down a steep hill. At the bottom, they found one of the Z-Lotz who had visited them lying face down on the ground, motionless. Shadow Walker knelt down and felt the neck. Cool, but not stone cold. Pulseless. He flipped the body over. Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker both stared. The face was covered with red sores. 

Eagle Eyes pointed to a dry creek bed at the bottom of the hill. Shadow Walker nodded and they each took one leg and pulled the body to the bottom of the hill. In silence, they looked at each other. At last, Shadow Walker said, “What happened to his face?” 

Eagle Eyes answered, “I have no idea. But it isn’t just his face. Look at his ankles and hands.” 

Shadow Walker put down the two large rocks he had brought and he knelt down and explored the body more carefully. “You’re right Eagle Eyes. These red spots are everywhere. Is that what killed him? Was he poisoned?” 

Eagle Eyes shook her head slowly. “I don’t have any idea.” After a pause she added, “I can’t think of anything even in a story that’s like this. Should we go back and tell the others?” 

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Shadow Walker imagined that. They could make it back by nightfall, but then, the three they were still trailing would be two more days ahead. It was important information but… “Eagle  Eyes, I think it takes too much time. And, we don’t really know anything. Not for sure. We don’t know what happened to him. What is there to tell that is a known truth?” 

Eagle Eyes stared down at the body of a man she didn’t know, but still — the body of a man who was alive two days ago, now motionless. “Maybe we should search him for other clues as to what caused his death.” 

“Like what? What are we looking for, Eagle Eyes?” 

She slowly began to take the clothes off the man. “Come to think of it, these clothes might come in handy. We look like Veritas. Hopefully, we won’t be seen, but if we are seen, people will tend to ignore us if we look like Z-Lotz.” 

“Right. If only we could sound like them.” Eagle Eyes chuckled. “These will do for you. I will stay unseen.” 

After they had been piling rocks on the naked body for long enough that their arms began to tire, Eagle Eyes said, “I wonder whether they would have done the same if they came upon one of us dead upon the trail.” 

“I don’t really know. I don’t really know any Z-Lotz. The closest to it is NUT-PI and he may well be the worst. It seems as though the Z-Lotz, just like the Cupiditas choose the worst among them as leader.” 

Eagle Eyes mused, “It’s hard to imagine how they can be very effective at anything.” 

“And yet, you described a very large — many large buildings — and they have the killing sticks. So… and those things with the marks. And, they trained horses.”

Eagle Eyes thought about that for awhile. As they put the finishing touches on the burial cairn, she mused, “We learned how to train horses too. And I think the training was at the ROI. Why didn’t these visitors come on horses? Why would they have horses and yet not travel a fair distance on foot instead?” 

They finished respecting the dead man. Even if they seemed to be enemies and even if these four lied about several things during the gift exchange, neither Eagle Eyes nor Shadow Walker felt it right to dishonor the dead. They thanked the animals and plants they used for food, or must needs kill. Could they do less for a human cousin? After, they walked on in silence for a time along a broad path through the tall grass. 

Eagle Eyes pointed to some woods off to their right. Shadow Walker stared off in that direction but he couldn’t see what she was pointing to until they had gone many more paces. Along the topmost branches of a stand of tulip trees, there grew a vine with many trumpet-shaped flowers glowing with pink and gold. 

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Shadow Walker smiled, “You really earn your name. Those are beautiful.” 

“Those flowers are really high up, Shadow Walker.”

Shadow Walker nodded. “Yes. So they are.” 

Eagle Eyes grew more excited as they walked. “It occurs to my mind that they did not get that high on their own.”

Shadow Walker said, “What do you mean?” 

“Those colorful flowers grow on vines. They vines do not have the strength to grow more than a few inches. Yet we see them so high in the air. They are using the tulip tree. That’s how they get so high.” 

Shadow Walker nodded. “I never thought about it before, but I think you’re right.” 

On they walked. Shadow Walker stopped suddenly. “Are you saying — are you saying that’s what you think is going on with the Z-Lotz? They are using some — some other — the fruits of some other peoples — in order to have all these things. Maybe they didn’t really develop these killing sticks but stole them from someone else. That would explain how they could — “

Eagle Eyes stopped and stared at Shadow Walker, “No, that’s not what I was saying, but it does make sense. I think you may be right. As Many Paths would say, ‘it’s one possibility.’” 

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Shadow Walker laughed, “That’s exactly what she’d say. And if that tall tulip tree were to be hit by lightning or die of disease…”

Eagle Eyes nodded, “The vine would fall too. It’s only showing its flowers so high right now because of using the height of the tree. Shh!!” Eagle Eyes dropped down and Shadow Walker did the same. He came up close behind her and whispered in her ear. 

“What do you see, Eagle Eyes?” The warm breath felt nice on her neck. Eagle Eyes turned back and whispered into the ears of Shadow Walker.

“Not what I see. What I hear!. Don’t you hear it?” 

Shadow Walker put his hands up behind his ears and turned his head until he heard humans talking … or singing … or … what were they saying? He nodded to Eagle Eyes. 

They crawled on their bellies very slowly toward the sound, being careful to move only when the wind moved the tall grass. As they drew closer, it became clear that what they were listening to was neither song nor reasoned dialogue. Two people were … talking at the same time but not reacting to each other. They came to the edge of a clearing. Within it, two men — the ones who had recently visited the Center Place of the Veritas — were thrashing about uselessly on the ground. 

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes looked at each other. They wanted to help, but where was the fourth of their late visitors? They drew very close and hastily made a plan. He would try to help the men and Eagle Eyes would stay hidden in case the fourth Z-Lotz emissary returned in a bad mood. 

Shadow Walker reached the nearest man who was barely moving. He also seemed covered in red dots. He tried to communicate using sign language, but the man’s eyes were rolling around in his head and he seemed completely unaware of Shadow Walker’s presence. He said aloud “He is burning with fever.” He said it loudly but seemingly to himself. The other man was in a similar state. He went back into the grass and crawled back to Eagle Eyes. 

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Still concerned that there was an unaccounted-for Z-Lotz somewhere, he whispered to Eagle Eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with them. They are very hot. And they seem not to have their minds with them. I don’t know of a medicine for them. Should we take them to a creek to cool them off? And they are both covered with those red spots.” 

“I have been searching my memories but I haven’t heard of anything like this either. There’s no sign of the last Z-Lotz. Let’s see whether we can find his trail.” 

Eagle Eyes stood cautiously and scanned the immediate surroundings. “Let’s at least move them out of the sun and under the shade of that oak.” The two sick men made no real protest as they were dragged to sit up against the shady side of the tree. Eagle Eyes pointed to a thick branch. “Give me a boost. I’ll climb the tree while you check the periphery of the clearing.” 

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Shadow Walker stood with his back against the tree and knelt down while Eagle Eyes slid her pack and outer layer of clothing off. She put her left foot in his interlocked hands. She put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the corded muscles beneath the odd Z-Lotz tunic. Working as a team, she shifted her weight upwards so that she now towered over him. She reached her hands up farther onto the tree trunk and stepped up onto his shoulders. From there, she could touch the lowest branch, but not reach around it. Shadow Walker looked up and noticed many things, among them that he would have to boost her still farther. He put both hands next to the right side of his neck and instructed her to step on. She put her foot on his two hands and he pushed her up. At last, she hooked her arms over the tree branch and pulled herself up. He nodded, and noticed that he was breathing heavily. He watched Eagle Eyes continue climbing the tree. 

Shadow Walker sighed and stepped to the edge of the clearing and soon found evidence that all three Z-Lotz had entered the clearing; two of them had been staggering. At last, he found the trail of the remaining Z-Lotz. He stared up at the distant figure of Eagle Eyes. She had climbed up near the crown of the tree and was shading her eyes. He tried to catch her eye, but her attention was elsewhere. They had known each other all their lives and he genuinely liked her as a friend. He had never been so struck by her beauty as he was now. His face reddened slightly and he looked down at the Ring of Empathy and wondered how things were going with Many Paths and She Who Saves Many Lives and Tu-Swift.

He followed the trail of the missing Z-Lotz until he came upon a creek. He could see that the one they tracked had stopped here for a drink but then continued onward back toward the camp — or — what had Cat Eyes called it? A city. Toward the city of the Z-Lotz. Perhaps as Eagle Eyes had suggested, it wasn’t really their city but one that they had found or won over with fighting. Perhaps they would learn more when they arrived at that city. 

Shadow Walker went back to the clearing intending to offer to help Eagle Eyes down, but when he arrived, she was already on the ground. He gestured toward the nearby creek. “He went to the creek and got a drink, but didn’t bring any back for his sick companions. I did though. I didn’t bring any for you, but I think we will need to pass by the creek to follow the trail. And you?” 

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Eagle Eyes said, “I saw an indentation path in the grass beyond the creek. I don’t think we are far behind him. They must have been slowed down by the illness. I saw something very strange though. In that direction, there is a broad area with no bushes, grass, or trees. It is like a desert. But… not sandy really. I am not sure, but it looks shiny and dead and … disordered … and … evil. I am glad we don’t have to go in that direction.” 

As Shadow Walker listened, he managed to get one of the sick men to sip a little water. He went to give water to the other and discovered that he was dead though his body was still hot. 

“This one is dead, Eagle Eyes. What shall we do with the other one? We can hardly take him with us. He can’t really care for himself. But I don’t want to stay here and try to heal him because — for one thing, I have no idea how to do that. Or, even what is wrong with him. There is something else. It’s odd but I feel … dirty. I don’t know. It’s weird.” 

“No, I don’t think it’s odd. I feel as though … somehow I want to get away from them both. Maybe we should both wash while we are down at the creek. I don’t think we can help this man. We could stay and comfort him and that may be help in a way.” 

Shadow Walker nodded. “I’m not sure he really knows that we’re even here. I cannot get him to focus on my sign language and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t understand my speech. Yet, can we really just leave him here to die on his own?” 

Eagle Eyes walked over to the man. She squatted before him and tapped her chest. “Eagle Eyes. I am Eagle Eyes. We are Veritas. You visited.” He said nothing, his eyes were still glazed over. For a moment, he reached his hand toward her and moved his mouth, but no sound emerged. He tilted his head slightly, then he slid sideways as thought to sleep upon the ground. She leaned forward a bit more and put his hand on his neck. She glanced up at Shadow Walker and shook her head. 

Eagle Eyes stood and gathered her outer clothes and pack together. “Can we drag these two down by the creek and cover them with nearby stones? Then, I have a feeling, though I cannot explain why, that we should bathe. I’m not sure I want to wear his clothes either. I think you should go back to your own clothes as well.” 

“Why not disguise ourselves?” 

Eagle Eyes frowned. “I’m not sure. But what came to mind. You know, if your garden starts to have those little white bugs that eat the leaves, it spreads to all of the plants if you don’t wash them off. And, it is the same with the black mold. And that disease that curls the leaves. And, when ALT-R — he — corrupted — POND MUD and then the two of them together seemed to corrupt KAVA-NUT. I don’t want to have those red spots all over me. It feels wrong to wear their clothes. It makes my skin feel itchy.” 

Shadow Walker considered. He nodded. “I agree. I already feel — I don’t feel good in these clothes. Let us go bury them in their burial cairns, bathe, and then be on our way. We’ll just have to stay hidden when we get to the village.” 

Eagle Eyes nodded, and began walking toward the nearest Z-Lotz. Shadow Walker watched her and found himself looking forward to the prospect of shedding these Z-Lotz clothes and then bathing thoroughly in the creek. Watching Eagle Eyes would not be unpleasant either.

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

 

Donnie Plays Soldier Man

05 Sunday Apr 2020

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

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

crime, criminal, ethics, fiction, liar, sociopath, soldiers, story

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“Take me! Take me! I wanna play soldier man too!”

Junior sighed. “No, Donnie. It’s big boys and they — nobody likes it when I bring along my kid brother. It’s big boy play. Understand?”

Donnie screamed, “I am a big boy! I’m bigger than you!” In an attempt to illustrate the point, Donnie jumped as high as he could and managed to touch the shoulder of his older brother.

“Donnie, we’ll play another time. I’m just going to go play with the big boys for a while. We can play something when I get home.” 

Donnie screamed even louder, “I am a big boy! I’m bigger than you.” In an attempt to prove his point, he leapt onto the bed and bounced up and tapped his teeny fingers on the top of his brother’s head. 

“Look, Donnie, the answer’s no. Later.” Fred Junior began lacing his Keds. 

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“MOMMY! MOMMY!” Donnie screamed. 

Mom, who was downstairs doing dishes, sighed, dried her hands and yelled up the stairs, “What’s all the commotion about?”

“Fred says I cannot go out and play! He won’t let me! It’s a free country, Mommy!” 

Mom shook her head and trundled up the stairs. “OK, look, I’ve got work to do. Junior, Donnie’s allowed to play outside too. Why don’t you just watch him for a little while so I can get my work done, okay?” 

Junior closed his eyes and hung his head, “Ma, he just — he always causes trouble when he plays with my friends. He’s just — a pain.” 

“He’s also your little brother. Now take him with you. And make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” She could see that Junior was about to protest, “No, no. I don’t want another word. Come back in time for dinner.” She turned and left the room. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Donnie yelled after her, “Thanks Mommy!” Then, he turned to his bigger brother, stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry. He snatched his sneakers out of his closet and began tying them. 

Junior sighed and shook his head. Maybe it would be safer to walk along the creek. The two of them could look for dragonflies. Junior liked dragonflies. But then, the memory of their last walk flooded his mind — Donnie had taken great delight in catching dragonflies in his butterfly net and then pulling the wings off. What the hell was wrong with that kid, he wondered.

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Fine, he thought, I’ll let him play soldiers. Maybe I can convince him to stay put and follow orders. 

When they reached the vacant lot where the boys often played baseball, there was already a good-sized crowd. With — Fred counted quickly — 15 boys, they could’ve had a decent baseball game, but they hadn’t brought equipment for that. Each boy had a “sword” instead — a kind of pointed stick — not so thick as a club, but thicker than a whip. If you got hit by someone’s sword, it stung and sometimes left a bruise. Parents had occasionally seen this kind of battle and had warned the boys that “someone will get their eye poked out.” 

When the parents uttered that dire warning, the boys always stopped — until the parents were out of sight — and then resumed their games. They chose up teams after deciding that today, they would be Robin Hood’s band versus The Sheriff of Nottingham’s men. Donnie, being the smallest, was naturally the last to be chosen. Donnie was on Junior’s team — one of the Sheriff’s men. 

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Mainly the boys enjoyed clacking their wooden “swords” against that of their opponent, making a nice “THWACK!” sound when two swords clashed. They didn’t really try to “hurt” each other but they occasionally stabbed someone (carefully) who would either fall down while groaning in agony or slash someone across the back or shoulder. Of course, the swords sometimes landed a little harder than intended. 

One of “Robin Hood’s Merry Men,” Joe, tended to be a bit rough. Almost none of the older boys liked Fred’s little brother. They considered him too much of a cry-baby. But, they all cut each other a break when it came to following parents’ orders. So, they tolerated Donnie once Junior had explained that his mom had ordered him to let Donnie play too. Joe kept faking to one side and then side-stepping Donnie’s thrust in order to whack Donnie on his butt. 

“STOP IT!” yelled Donnie. “Let me hit you! It isn’t fair! Make him stop, Fred!” Donnie gritted his teeth and promised himself that Joe would pay for this humiliation. 

Fred put a little of his attention on blocking the blows that were aimed at Donnie as well as defending himself. This was pretty effective. Joe only managed to get one more good hit on Donnie before a “truce” was called.

The boys could see a summer storm coming. One half of the sky was blue and the other side was a foreboding blackish gray. The boys lay down on the nearby baseball diamond to watch the storm. The game now was to see which boy was brave enough to keep laying there even after the rain started. Who would be first to jump up and run home? Who would be last? The boys began to taunt each other and scream that the storm was about to hit. Everyone was fascinated by the wall of air that was moving toward them. 

No-one noticed that Donnie still held his “sword” in his teeny hands and that he had snuck up behind Joe. Just then, the storm front hit one side of the baseball field and began screaming across it. The boys could hardly stay still. Suddenly, far too close for comfort, a huge lightning streak hit the metal backstop. Everyone yelled, including Joe who felt an excruciating pain in his eye. 

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Donnie dropped his stick and began running home. He ran just as fast as his legs could carry him and ran up the front steps and flung open the door. He looked around wildly. Mommy was in the living room listening to the radio and ironing. He ran into the room screaming, “Mommy! Mommy! Freddie put somebody’s eye out! It was terrible! I told them not to play swords!” 

Mom turned and stared at Donnie. “What? What are you talking about?” 

Donnie pretended to sob uncontrollably, blurting out words senselessly. “I told them. I thought we were going to play baseball, but the boys were all poking sticks at each other. There were about fifty-jillion kids there. I’m not even sure Junior did it on purpose. Maybe it was accident. Oh, it was bloody! Will Joe see? Will he be blind? Don’t hurt Freddy, Mommy. He didn’t mean to do it. I’m sure he didn’t. I’m pretty sure. He was mad at Joe. But I don’t think he’d poke his eye out on purpose, do you?” 

“Slow down, Donnie. Who did what? Where’s your brother? He was supposed to watch you!” 

“I ran home to tell you. I think he must have run away from home. He must feel bad about poking out Joe’s eye, don’t you think, Mommy?” Donnie rocked his head in his teeny hands and snuck looks at his mom to make sure that she was swallowing this, hook, line, and sinker. She was! He mentally patted himself on his own back. God, I’m good! he thought to himself.

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“Mommy, Mommy, do you think Joe will be okay? Maybe his eye is just scratched, right Mommy?” 

Mom was sure Donnie was exaggerating but she could “see” that he was genuinely upset.

Joe wasn’t the only half-blind person in the neighborhood. “I’m sure Joe will be fine. Now, Donnie, I know you’re upset but sit down and tell me what happened. Slowly. Step by step.” 

Donnie almost began skipping happily to the nearby ottoman but caught himself in time. He made himself shudder and shuffle and he continued to hide his face so Mom wouldn’t see the huge grin. 

“I — I — I don’t know. It all happened so fast. They wanted to play soldier. With big sticks. Junior wanted me to play but I remembered that the grown-ups had said people could get their eyes poked out. So — I didn’t want to play. Fred told me I was chicken. So, I almost joined them, then it began to rain. Hard. I think that made the sticks slippery. And, then, Joe was bleeding and Fred said, ‘Serves you right!’ And I got scared and ran home and I wanted — maybe you should call and ambulance.”

Mom shook her head. “Boys!” she muttered under her breath. Crap. How could she keep this from Fred Senior who would likely beat his son half to death. The phone rang. I can’t answer that. I have to think. She didn’t know that a lot of research had gone into designing the ringing drone of a phone so annoying that people generally felt compelled to answer it. 

She strode over, patting Donnie on the shoulder as she did so. 

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“Hello?” she said tentatively. 

Donnie could hear a woman screaming on the other end. He smiled so broadly, he had to bury his face in his hands so Mommy wouldn’t see. 

And she didn’t see. Of course, she didn’t. Joe, it turned out, was only partially blinded in one eye. He never was able to play baseball very well after that. 

For many years, on a boring rainy afternoon, Donnie would entertain himself by watching two raindrops race down the window pane. He would call one of them, “Fred gets beaten up by Daddy” and the other one “Joe can’t play baseball” and he would try to decide which one he liked better. It was really a tough choice. 

But his favorite raindrop was probably the one he called, “No-one believes Junior when he tells the truth, but Mommy and Daddy believe me no matter what.” 

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Author Page on Amazon. 

Citizen Soldiers: Part one. 

Citizen Soldiers: Part two. 

Citizen Soldiers: Part three.

A Difficult Journey

11 Wednesday Mar 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

empathy, ethics, legends, life, myths, stories, tales, truth, Veritas

nature forest trees fog

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Trunk of Tree awoke just as the morning sun dispersed the fog. He sat up and then regretted it. Dizziness overcame him along with a pounding headache. He lay back down and the pain in his head doubled. His comrades began to notice that he had awakened. 

Easy Tears asked, “How is the head of Trunk of Tree this morning?” 

Soon the others had gathered around. “I’m fine. It’s late. We should leave soon. Where are we? Where’s the river?” 

Glances were exchanged and in a single minute of silence, Fleet of Foot was nominated and unanimously chosen as the one to take charge of telling Trunk of Tree what had happened and when exactly which truths should be told. 

“Last sunset, we were camped by the river and ready to settle down for the night when Jaccim noticed the horses were terribly nervous so indicating danger. There was lightening on the mountains and later we could hear water rushing toward us. Things got very confused then. You might have reminded us then about how Eagle Eyes used rushing water to destroy Cupiditas warriors. You might have led us to higher ground. You might have fallen at some point or been kicked by a horse, but you fell to the ground senseless at some point. Jaccim hoisted you onto a horse. He must be very strong, or perhaps you helped him a bit. Anyway, you lay senseless but safe all night. We tried to wake you up, but we couldn’t make anything like the roar of the water when the flood tore through here. Do you recall all the trees that were down there?” 

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Trunk of Tree squinted his eyes. He took his head in his hands. “I don’t remember anything except we found water. And we need to find the Veritas. But we are Veritas. Aren’t we? But who is he? I don’t know you,” he said, pointing to Jaccim. “Why are there horses here?”

“Trunk of Tree,” said Fleet of Foot, “Listen to me. Look at me. I know for sure that you were bumped on the head hard. Hard enough to knock you out for hours. Your memory is … you need to take it easy for a few days till you remember what’s happening. We are Veritas. Yes. But this woman, Cat Eyes, told us of cousins over the Twin Peaks. And, this man, Jaccim, confirmed it. We are headed there now to learn what we can learn from these people. You are leading us. But for now, you should rest and let your head —- your head is like a bird nest that’s been scattered by the storm. Like the bird, you must now rebuild it from those broken pieces. Do you see?” 

Fleet of Foot looked first at Easy Tears and she nodded to him. He had done well, but her eyes shifted back to Trunk of Tree. He was going to go along with it. Easy Tears thought perhaps he had somehow learned a lesson to listen to those who know more. Or, perhaps feeling weakened put him in a more receptive mood. We will see whether this is a cool breeze or winter coming, thought Easy Tears. She looked back to Fleet of Foot and nodded again. Message received. 

For the next few days as they took it easy till Trunk of Tree seemed to have recovered his full strength, if not his full memory. After three such days of slow walking to accommodate the recovering Veritas, they reached the foot of the first of Twin Peaks. At first, the path was fairly clear and open. Cat Eyes began to have a tingling on the nape of her neck. I am going home, she thought. I am at last going home. Will I remember anyone though? Or, will I be like Trunk of Tree and only remember my new friends? She shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to go through this whole sequence yet again. There’s no point, she told herself firmly. I will see soon enough, at least I will if this fool Trunk of Tree doesn’t get us killed by his stubbornness. He was still groggy, she thought. Maybe I could just pretend to like him, lie with him, and then in his sleep, while everyone else is asleep, I could… end him. 

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Cat Eyes was somewhat startled to see Easy Tears and Fleet of Foot standing before her. Easy Tears spoke and the revenge fantasy dissipated like fog. “Does any of this seem familiar to you yet?”

“Oh. Oh, no. But I don’t expect it would. People stayed in our settlement for the most part. Venturing outside was … unnecessary … and also dangerous. We knew there were evil people out there. I mean who else would steal children away from their parents?”

They all considered this for a moment. 

Easy Tears said, “Suppose you met someone, fell in love and had a baby. And suppose you raised this baby for years. And then, someone stole your baby away. Wouldn’t you try to steal their baby away and trade it for getting your own back?”

Cat Eyes nodded. “I might indeed. I might get my revenge. But it has to be the right person. I can’t take it out on Trunk of Tree. It’s not his fault.”

Easy Tears and Fleet of Foot looked at each other. Easy Tears said, “Trunk of Tree? What does he have to do with this?”

Cat Eyes stared at the two of them. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else. Back to your story. Why couldn’t I just tell them that I would take their child unless they gave mine back?” 

Fleet of Foot nodded. “That might work. But the other person might simply keep your child but be more on guard about their own children. They might take your threat as a warning and they would prevent you from actually doing it.” 

“Especially,” added Easy Tears, “if they had Killing Sticks.” She paused for a moment. “So, I might. If that were the only way to get my own child back. Strike without warning.” 

After a fair pause, Fleet of Foot said, “What if that’s what the reason the Z-Lotz have the ROI steal children?” 

Easy Tears was taken aback. “What? What are you talking about? They stole Tu-Swift. They stole Dah-Nah. They stole Cat Eyes, too. No-one stole their children. At least, not yet.” 

Fleet of Foot continued, “But how do we know that? If we had stolen children, or our grandparents’ grandparents had, would we have sung songs about it? Even if it never happened, the Z-Lotz might think it had happened. Most of them may think they are somehow protecting their own children. Or trying to get their own kids back. I don’t know.” 

They sat, for a time, in silence. It was time to break camp. As Cat Eyes stood, she looked the two of them intently. “I know. I know how to tell.” 

“How is that?” asked Easy Tears. 

She answered in a quiet, venomous voice, “If you stole a child in order to get your own back, would you make it perform sexual favors for you in the meantime?” 

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“No,” answered Easy Tears, “of course not. That’s disgusting.” 

“Nor I, of course. Horrible,” said Fleet of Foot and he grimaced.

“I thought not,” said Cat Eyes. “That’s how you know they are evil. There is no excuse for raping a child no matter how many lies they tell about it.”  

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

The Pie of Life

24 Monday Feb 2020

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

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Business, capitalism, Democracy, ethics, fairness, life, marketing, socialism

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There isn’t just the one pie, of course. A decent bakery will have quite a variety. Pecan pie, warm, with some vanilla ice cream — the warmth and richness of the pie while the creaminess of the melting ice cream! Key Lime pie — sweet, sour, and a hint of exotic bitterness. Chocolate cream pie — is it really more of a candy or a pie? On occasion, I’ve made pies from scratch that are filled with freshly picked blackberries or raspberries. If you’ve never had one fresh out of the oven — barely cool enough to eat — you should really treat yourself. The same goes for apple and cherry pie!

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Most people in their daily lives are generous. They find it’s more fun to share a wonderful pie than secretly steal every piece for themselves. Most people you know and most people I know realize that in order to get anything significant done, they have to work with other people. And, while I, like many people, love to play competitive games and sports, all of life is not a competitive sport. It isn’t about taking the most pie you can regardless of consequences.  

In a zero-sum game, we imagine that there is only one pie. We have to split it and if you get more, I get less. 

But is everything in life like that? Is anything in life really like that? Even competitive sports like tennis where one person or team wins and the other loses is not truly a zero sum game. There is the benefit of fitness and improving your game and the sheer joy of playing. And most of life is like that — including pies. When we think about how to split the pie, we may want to consider other things such as: 

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How did the pie get there? What is the proper share for the people who grew the wheat? The miller who ground the flour? The truck driver who drove the flour truck to the store? How about the grocery clerk? The bagger? The person who cooked the pie? How about the person who tinkered around until she or he developed an excellent recipe? How about the people who had lived for thousands of years with the cinnamon trees and then had their villages and way of life destroyed so that the cinnamon trees could all be cut down? How about the people who cut the sugar cane? How about the policeman who protects the pie and the fireman who comes to save the bakery if it catches fire? How much should they all get? 

Trying to “determine the fair share” by measuring everything and “calculating” it by formula would be endlessly tedious. The inefficiency and waste and lack of innovation in the former Soviet Union demonstrated the futility of detailed central planning. In many places, society has developed a system of exchange based on money. The idea is to let the market “decide.” 

That system only works when people have approximately equal power and when they have equal justice under the law. When capitalism is combined with unequal justice, it quickly devolves into tyranny. Owners of corporations can get almost all of the pie for themselves and leave only enough crumbs for the workers to barely stay alive and eke out a living. To the extent that workers can be replaced by robots, it isn’t even necessary to give workers crumbs. 

Suppose your young child is deathly ill with pneumonia and needs penicillin. Suppose I am the only pharmacy in town and the roads are closed so that the only way for you to get the necessary penicillin is through me. As the pharmacist, I may have paid all of one thin dime for the medicine you need. But, assuming you love your child as much as most parents do, I can charge virtually any price. Any price. Think of that. I can not only gain your car, your house, and every dime you own. I can also make you an indebted servant. 

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Imagine a world in which there are many employers and many workers. Each worker has many possible jobs they could do and every company has a choice among many workers. In such a system, there is some balance of power. An employer who pays low wages or who provides bad working conditions will find themselves without enough workers to get the work done and go out of business. Similarly, a worker who goofs off or insists on very high wages will not be hired. But do we have a balance like that? In a land of many small companies and many small family farms, there is some balance. But today? In many cases, there are a small number of very large corporations who together hold almost all the power. 

If, in addition to the imbalance of workers versus owners, the rich owners have now bought much of the government. Legislation to protect workers and consumers is not even being brought to a vote in the Senate. The Trumputin administration is rolling back food safety regulations, air pollution regulations, water pollution regulations, and healthcare. The justice department and the US intelligence agencies — who used to be filled with nonpartisan experts — are being destroyed from within. Ultimately, it means that every penny of wealth created by workers can be stolen by the richest and most powerful people in the country. Even now, some of the richest corporations and people pay zero taxes.

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Many of the corporations don’t really have competitors. They spend money on lobbying and advertising. They don’t want to spend money on innovation and invention because that changes the nature of the game and so — they could potentially lose their monopoly power. In other words, none of these people are spending much resource on inventing new types of pies. They are protecting the rules that give most of the pie to them. Similarly, companies buy start-ups of potentially disruptive innovations, not in order to integrate inventions into their product lines but to prevent those start-ups from becoming competitors. 

Since most of us in America will soon be paying our tax bill, it might be time to consider this:

If you work two full time jobs in America, you can barely make ends meet and you will pay taxes on your earned income — not a lot — but more than some billionaires. If you are a highly talented writer, actor, consultant, scientist, and you work 80 hours a week, you might earn $200,000 a year and you will pay a lot of taxes on that money. On the other hand, let’s suppose that you inherited $10,000,000 and you invest $4,000,000 in the stock market. You will easily make $200,000 a year on that money while doing nothing for the whole year. You can spend your time watching TV, playing golf, or dressing up lizards. But your tax rate on the $200,000 you got for nothing except being born rich will be less than the talented person who works full time. 

How we divide up the pie makes a big difference. And we are becoming less and less fair about that and — perhaps even worse — we are no longer putting as much resource into growing the pie and inventing new types of pies. Meritocracy is being replaced with cronyism and a “might makes right” mentality. 

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While competition is a part of life, it is not the whole of life. Life cooperates with other life all the time and at every level. In our bodies, if we are healthy, the cells of every organ work together to promote life for the whole. In cancer, a few cells decide to suck all the resources into themselves. And — that’s what happening here in America. 

How’s it going where you are?  

Do you invent new kinds of pies? Do you help improve the recipes? Do you get a fair share? Or, do you find yourself fighting all day just to get a very little bit of a very large pie? 

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Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

Jaccim Fails to Explain

30 Thursday Jan 2020

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

≈ 2 Comments

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empathy, ethics, leadership, learning, legend, myth, relationships, story, tale

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Many Paths awoke early. The fragments of a dark dream hung about her. Tu-Swift! “Tu-Swift!” she called loudly. 

Her urgency startled Tu-Swift who jumped up suddenly saying, “What? What? What’s wrong?” 

Many Paths blinked and saw Tu-Swift standing and staring at her. “Sorry. I must have had a bad dream that you were gone again.” 

Tu-Swift shook his head. “No, I’m still here. You scared me.” 

Many Paths took in a deep calming breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I … I am glad you’re back, brother. It takes my mind a time to really believe it.” 

Tu-Swift nodded. “Yes. Sometimes I wake up and imagine I’m back in that wooden shack again in the village of the ROI. But I am here. I am safe. At least for now.” 

“For now. Yes, for now. I worry about the Killing Sticks though.” Many Paths took another large breath and added, “If there were no Killing Sticks, I would be spending all my energy trying to understand your discovery — and trying to connect with our brothers and sisters near the Twin Peaks. It seems that Jaccim may be able to lead us to the Veritas. But what do you think of him? Is the to be trusted?” 

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“Shadow Walker was also concerned. I don’t know. I remember ALT-R and POND MUD. ALT-R in particular spoke very smoothly and I would have believed him. Yet, he was corrupt. He even betrayed us to NUT-PI, the man with the Killing Stick. Perhaps I am not such a good judge of character.”

“ALT-R fooled many people of more summers that you, Tu-Swift. There’s no shame in that. Even She Who Saves Many Lives did not see the full evil of his heart. Nor I. But what of Jaccim? He is the only one among us who claims to know how to reach the tribe of the Veritas who live beyond the Twin Peaks.” 

“I trust him. I should say that I trust him here among us. And I trust him to lead the search party as he is best able. I don’t know what he would do if the ROI came here though. Maybe he would join them. You should talk with him yourself, Many Paths. You’re good at seeing the heart in someone.” 

“Thank you and I shall. I’m not so sure how good I am though. ALT-R and POND MUD — I failed to see that treachery. But you claim he was kind to you?”

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“I wouldn’t put it that way. I was essentially a slave. He was the least unkind. His two companions were sometimes cruel for no reason. To me, to Day-Nah and to the horses. Jaccim seemed cold but not actually cruel.” A frown crept across his face. “I am much happier to be back here with you and with my own people. The thing is…despite his injuries, it seems to me that Jaccim is actually happier here too. Don’t you find that odd? You might ask some of his companions. But that’s my impression.” 

“That would be odd indeed. I think I shall take your suggestion, despite the inconvenience of having to use Cat Eyes as a translator. Speaking of whom…?” She looked at Tu-Swift. 

Tu-Swift nodded. He had that slightly warm and slightly disturbing feeling that Many Paths looked at him in a way that made him say more than he meant to. 

“I know what you’re getting at. I like her. You have to admit that she’s quite remarkable. But Sooz is still my special friend. I would love to go with Cat Eyes to find her village. It would be an adventure. But I understand. I might just slow things down. Anyway, use your gift of looking into someone’s soul on him. You talk with him. See what you think.” 

Many Paths chuckled. “I cannot really look into someone’s soul. But I do try to see things from their perspective.” She took out a small vine on which she had strung her Seven Rings of Empathy and held them aloft and shook her hand playfully. “And, of course, with these Magic Rings, I can see through walls!” 

Tu-Swift smiled. “Very funny. Shadow Walker told me about the joke you played on Trunk of Tree.” 

“Yes. I suppose after what you two went through, you’re closer than ever. But don’t make fun of Trunk of Tree. He seems … for a time I was worried he might be on the path of ALT-R and POND MUD, but I think he’s going to be all right. It would not be helpful for him — please don’t tell anyone else. Honestly, I feel a little — I may have gone too far. He was really starting to annoy me. I was so worried about you and about Shadow Walker and he kept bugging me to just accept that you were both dead and that I should marry him.” 

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Many Paths shook her head. “Perhaps after breakfast, you could find Cat Eyes and Jaccim and the four of us could walk along the Rocky Ridge up to the Old Place and have a little lunch there while I question him. I still do not really understand him. He seems like a nice enough person. Yet, he lived among the ROI, and not only dealt with stolen children but he was apparently one of those who did the actual stealing. Such a heart, I cannot understand.” 

Tu-Swift took his leave and eagerly gobbled down his breakfast before searching out Cat Eyes and Jaccim. The two of them sat together, slightly apart from the main throng of the Veritas, sipping tea. As Tu-Swift approached them, he noted they were talking in ROI. Tu-Swift frowned. He did not like the sound of ROI. It reminded him of his time there, time when he did not know whether he would ever see any of his friends again. He took a deep, cleansing breath and continued to approach them. 

Cat Eyes spied him first. “Well met, Tu-Swift! Would you like some sassafras tea?” 

“Sassafras? Really, Cat Eyes? I didn’t know you could make good tea from sassafras. Jaccim. How are you feeling these days?” Tu-Swift spoke slowly and gestured so that he hoped Jaccim understood his greeting.” 

Cat Eyes judged from Jaccim’s puzzled look that he did not have any understanding. She quickly translated into ROI and Jaccim smiled at Tu-Swift. “Good. Good,” he said in highly accented Veritas. 

Tu-Swift nodded to Jaccim and said, “Good.” Then, he turned to Cat Eyes. “Many Paths asked me to arrange a walk with you after breakfast if you are amenable. We could go up to the Old Place and chat. Is that all right? I will probably ride slowly on Clip-Clop so I don’t slow you down too much. It’s a nice view from there.”

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Tu-Swift watched Jaccim closely judging whether he had understood any of his words. 

Cat Eyes spoke to Jaccim in ROI. Only then, did any light appear in Jaccim’s eyes. Jaccim nodded and spoke back in ROI. Cat Eyes smiled and turned to Tu-Swift. 

“We’re both fine with it, Tu-Swift. And, this tea,” she added as she handed a cup to Tu-Swift, “is not from the leaves of the Sassafras. It’s from the inner bark of the roots. Should we meet at the entrance to your cabin after you finish your tea?” 

On the trip up to the Old Place, Many Paths sang some songs. Although Jaccim struggled to understand Veritas, he could repeat some of the songs so everyone joined in. Most of the time, they had to travel single file. Many Paths remarked on the beautiful vista that opened up as they emerged from the forest. Others followed suit. Even Jaccim pointed to an unusually striking lone cedar tree, twisted by winds and weather. He said, “Good” in his odd accent. 

When they came to the Old Place, they sat in a circle and Many Paths passed around some pemmican for them to share. 

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Many Paths looked at Jaccim as she spoke but also held his eye as Cat Eyes translated her words into ROI. “How do you think of the ROI and the Veritas now that you have lived both places?” The question proved too abstract and vague for Jaccim, though because of the necessity to translate, it took awhile to realize this. Many Paths tried a different and more direct tact.

“Jaccim, do you prefer living with the ROI or the Veritas?” Many Paths could see that Jaccim remained puzzled by this as well, even after Cat Eyes not only translated the question but then tried to explain it in various ways. At last, she said to Many Paths, “He does not understand this question. So far as I can tell, he was — let me tell you how it was for me. I wanted to escape. I wanted to go home. Always. But I knew that I had to find some happiness where I was to stay alive long enough to have any chance of that happening. I could not spend my whole life wishing for something that might or might not happen and thereby not experience my actual life as it was. To be clear, this is not what he said. This is how I felt. But I think it’s akin. He was born into the ROI and now he is here. That’s that. He was never really given a “choice.” He cannot return to the ROI. He says he has no desire to go to live in a large cage which I guess is how he thinks of the city of the Z-Lotz.” 

Many Paths considered. She had hoped to come to the topic slowly and subtly but was making no progress. She decided to chance a more direct approach. 

“Jaccim, how could you steal children? I mean, how could you steal someone else’s child from them?” Many Paths had asked her question with a good deal of sign language and thought that perhaps Jaccim understood her question but she continued to look at his face as Cat Eyes translated. Once again, Cat Eyes and Jaccim spoke back and forth many times before Cat Eyes answered back to Many Paths. 

“I’m sorry,” Many Paths, “but I don’t think he understands the question. He says that he was told to do that by the people he had to obey. His assigned job was to steal as many as possible quickly; not to permanently disable the children; and not to be captured. It wasn’t his job, so he says, to understand why they stole children.” 

Many Paths frowned. Tu-Swift said, “I think that’s probably right. They viewed us, so far as I could tell, as another kind of horse. We are just tools, to them.”

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Drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths shook her head in sadness. She wondered whether a people could be so … disconnected from the Great Tree of Life — so out of touch with their own heart — that they would not even notice how … hateful it was to steal someone’s child. Many Paths felt tempted to turn her hate onto Jaccim, but she intentionally slowed her breathing and tried to think what it might be like for her if she had been brought up among the ROI — doing things without question — whatever you were told — not thinking for yourself about right and wrong. Sometimes, that kind of discipline was required. But always? Even in hunting the Large Ones or in war, sometimes warriors see that plans must be changed in the moment. 

Many Paths sat silently, looking at Jaccim. He has spent his entire life not thinking about such questions. He just does what he is told to do by those he sees as his superiors. He has never thought about what it’s like from the child’s viewpoint or the parent whose child was stolen. Chiding him would accomplish nothing. He would have to be shown over a long period of time. For now, she decided, he clearly views me, and even Tu-Swift, as “superiors” so he can be trusted to fulfill his role. 

“Jaccim, do you notice how the horses gallop?” 

At last, a question he understood, thought Many Paths, because the answer came back quickly. Jaccim spoke with enthusiasm.

“Oh, they are so fast! And so … musical … in how they run.” 

“Yes,” replied Many Paths, as she began Jaccim’s first lesson in empathy; one taught to the Veritas in toddlerhood. 

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———————————————

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration 

 

Shadow Walker’s Walk

19 Sunday Jan 2020

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

emathy, ethics, jealousy, leadership, legend, myth, story, tale, teamwork

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A few days after Cat Eyes and the others told their tales, Shadow Walker’s ankle felt good enough to allow him to accompany Trunk of Tree as he checked on the Northern guard postings. He had taken to asking someone from the tribe each time he made a check. Although all the Veritas possessed detailed mental maps of the entire area, Trunk of Tree needed to see the entire area through new eyes that came from the knowledge that there are such things as Killing Sticks. 

As they ascended the area known as White Pine Hill where the path could easily accommodate two abreast, Trunk of Tree, began to speak, “I’m glad you made it back okay. And, bringing back Tu-Swift as well. That’s something! Honestly, when you didn’t come back right away, I thought you would never find him. I mean, they were on horses. It’s just amazing that you ever found them.” 

“As I said in my recounting, they were terrible at hiding their trail. It struck all of us as odd. Even the Nomads of the South. I thought they were just careless. Perhaps riding horses made them always impatient. I didn’t know about Killing Sticks at the time, but now, I am thinking that perhaps they had some so they did not feel threatened.” 

“Perhaps, but our guards that were killed were surprised. I don’t think … wait. The only witness who was there was knocked out and doesn’t not recall much.”

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“In any case, Trunk of Tree, they did not use them when they attacked us with the fire arrows. So, I am not convinced the ROI had any. Perhaps only the Z-Lotz have them. Perhaps, indeed, only Nut-Pi has one. He may feel that it gives him power and he doesn’t want others, even his own warriors, to have such a weapon.” 

On they trod for a time in silence before Trunk of Tree resumed, “With so many of them and such fierce weapons, you can see why I thought you dead.” 

“I suppose,” said Shadow Walker, after a pause. “I never really gave it much thought. Finding Tu-Swift and staying alive dominated my mind.” 

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Trunk of Tree continued, “So, yes. Of course. Staying alive. But we did not know you were alive. I thought not and so, of course, I thought of the tribe and supporting Many Paths so…I just thought you should know. So now you do.” 

Shadow Walker grinned, “So now I know what, exactly?”

Trunk of Tree seemed surprised. “What? Oh, you know. I thought it might be that the tribe would need to think about re-arrangements and things. And, now, oh — Congratulations! by the way. But back then, you were not officially betrothed. That’s what I mean.” 

Shadow Walker laughed. “Trunk of Tree! Oh, Trunk of Tree! Where are you?! Where is the brave warrior from the Battle of the Three Paths? I hope when are in the next battle, you keep your words clear and sharp and pointing straight to the conclusion. That way, we can react on the same day as the battle.” 

Trunk of Tree reddened visibly. “What do you mean?”

Shadow Walker stopped and turned toward Trunk of Tree in such a way as to stop him in his path. When he had caught his eye, Shadow Walker said, “Many Paths told me about your various attempts to woo her.” 

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“I wouldn’t put it that way. I was thinking about the tribe.” 

“OK, Trunk of Tree but now Many Paths and I are betrothed. And, if you want to think of the tribe, we need to keep our unity now more than ever. Don’t ask her again. Not while I’m alive.” 

“Absolutely! I’m … I mean Many Paths is too … Honestly, who is stronger? Me or Many Paths?” 

An image flashed into Shadow Walker’s mind. He saw Many Paths skipping stones along the river not far from the Center Place. 

Shadow Walker said, “When it comes to who can heft a larger rock, you are stronger. In fact, you’re probably the strongest of the tribe. Though perhaps some day we should test that. I think I might be able to best you. When it comes to balancing many factors in coming to a good decision, she’s the strongest of all the tribe.”

Trunk of Tree nodded and they resumed walking. After a few paces, he asked, “Well, what about throwing stones?”

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“Throwing stones? Well, not all stones are the same, but I would guess you can throw similar stones farther than Many Paths.” 

Trunk of Tree nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes! I should be able to throw stones farther. Yet, she bested me just a few days ago.” 

Shadow Walker chuckled. “Tell me what happened. Exactly.”

Trunk of Tree stopped again and closed his eyes. “She challenged me to see who could skip a stone farther. I picked one up and threw it. Hard. And with some skill. Then, she did the same thing and skipped it twice as far! I swear she did.” 

Shadow Walker laughed gently. “Oh, she’s done the same to me. But let’s go back to your description. Tell me again. You picked up a rock. Tell me about the rock.”

Trunk of Tree frowned. “The rock? A flat one.” 

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Shadow Walker prompted, “What else?” 

Trunk of Tree shook his head. “What else? There is nothing else. I looked down, saw a flat rock and skipped it.” 

Shadow Walker nodded. “Right and what did Many Paths do?”

“She did the same. She stooped down, picked up a rock. Then, she … Hold on. She picked up another one. And another. What was that about? She picked up several and then…she lifted them and swung them and examined them. I remember thinking that she should hurry up and throw. But she picked one and then … well, actually, she still didn’t throw. She … felt the ground with her feet. What was that about? Anyway, she found a spot she liked and then…well, she still didn’t throw it. She twisted her body and her arm a few times. That’s like… that’s what we do with our legs before a race. I see. That’s what she meant by saying that preparation was important.” 

“Right, Trunk of Tree. And that’s not all. She loves skipping stones. She’s done it many times. And though she never said so, I imagine she tried many variations of stone to find out the very best size for her, the best way to throw it, and even where to skip in the stream.” 

Trunk of Tree slowed his pace again and asked, “What do you mean where? Surely, you can’t tell where a rock will skip!” 

Shadow Walker replied, “I can to some extent. But I’m sure Many Paths can do it even better. If you hit the rapids, it’s more likely you get a bad skip.” 

Trunk of Tree shook his head. “How do you … how can anyone get along with her? She’s so … she thinks so much!”

“We get along just fine. To me, it’s a joy that she’s always thinking of something I never would have thought of. But what about you? Eagle Eyes is the same way! She comes up with amazing ideas!” 

“She does. But lately…since she returned. Things are different. I’m not sure she likes me any more.” 

Shadow Walker gestured to a spot in the cliffs that rose steeply on either side of the path at this point. “That would be a great lookout point. And, these cliffs would be a good spot for a potential ambush. But why not ask Eagle Eyes to help you find good battle spots for us?”

Trunk of Tree sighed. “Many Paths made a similar suggestion. But what if she doesn’t like me?” 

“You’re guessing what is in her mind and how she feels! Ask her! Or, just ask her to come with you and see how she acts. But do something! Don’t just imagine how she feels.” 

Trunk of Tree & Shadow Walker came to a broad field. After a time, he spoke again, “Do you believe what Cat Eyes told in her tale?”

“Yes. I was very suspicious when I first met the ROI. But Tu-Swift pointed out something odd about them. It seemed they only would fight when they were ordered to. Anyway, I have many reasons, but I believe her story about the other part of the Veritas.” 

Trunk of Tree said, “Yes. I believe that part. I think we should try to connect. Maybe they would help us fight off the Z-Lotz and their Killing Sticks. But I still feel that Cat Eyes knows something she is not sharing.”

“I agree, but I think I know what it is. She was taken at a very young age. They trained her for sex. That’s what I think. She’s never said that, but whenever anyone asks her about the time shortly after she was captured, a darkness comes over her, she stiffens, and her jaw becomes rigid and she says she doesn’t remember anything or remember much or she changes the subject.” 

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Trunk of Tree made a face of disgust. “But she was only a child! Surely…That’s … why would anyone do that? That’s not natural!” 

“No, it isn’t natural. It’s evil. But you see how it is with some people who will do anything for power. To them, being cruel to a child is even better because the child has no way whatever to fight back. And you can bend them to your will from an early age. Cat Eyes herself said as much though she doesn’t want to say anything about the horrible things that were done to her. I am afraid, Trunk of Tree, that these people who use Killing Sticks and Steal Children will show no honor whatever. We must train our people, even our children, how to kill without being caught — in case any such as Tu-Swift are taken at an early age ever again.”

Trunk of Tree nodded. He led Shadow Walker off the main path on to a small deer path that doubled back toward the cliff. They followed it as it zig-zagged its way up around the side of the cliff and up to the potential lookout that Shadow Walker had spied. It was a vigorous climb that often stabbed Shadow Walker’s ankle. The view from atop the cliff was worth it, however. 

Somehow, it seemed to Shadow Walker, that high places like this allowed him to see everything in his life with perspective. He realized that he valued Trunk of Tree’s friendship and forgave him for seeking to replace him. Shadow Walker momentarily contemplated Many Paths with Trunk of Tree. Far from feeling jealous, he now felt a certainty that she would think circles around him. Shadow Walker smiled. She did the same to him, but he didn’t mind. She always showed him the paths of her thinking and he could follow them up to a high place where he could see the world more clearly. 

He smiled more broadly as he felt deep in his heart that this was a great and beautiful land he looked upon. There were many wonderful people and he knew that though these Killing Sticks posed a great danger to the Veritas, his tribe would defend it to the death, he felt sure — each and every one of them. 

One way or another, he thought, life and truth will survive and thrive. And so will we. So will we.

scenic view of lake in forest

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————————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

  

Essays on America: The Temperature Gauge

09 Thursday Jan 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, driverless cars, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

AI, America, cancer, Democracy, driverless cars, ethics, government

green leafed trees

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The sun is shining! Spring is here at last, and the trees are in bloom. You’re driving down the road and you see … 

That your “Engine over-heating” light goes on! 

You think: My engine’s over-heating! 

Or,  you think, it isn’t over-heating at all; I just have a bad sensor. 

Over the next few months, the red light goes on several other times, and each time, you pull over and try to judge whether the engine is really over-heated. No easy task. But you get back in and turn the car on and lo and behold, the light’s no longer on. Aloud, you mutter: “I’ve got to get that damned sensor fixed. Maybe next week.”

In the olden days of driving cars, I had a continuous gauge of the temperature. It was more obvious if it was acting oddly because I had more information. I could track it day to day. If I went on a long trip I could see whether the behavior of the gauge “made sense.” I might go up a long mountain road on a hot sunny day, and I expect to see the temperature gauge climb. On the other hand, if I went back down that same mountain at night and the temperature gauge climbed, I would know to get it checked. 

aerial view of road in the middle of trees

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Suppose instead of a gauge, you or I only get is one bit of information: “Temperature sensor says overheated,”  it’s much harder judge the veracity of the source. But, if we cannot even trust the reliability of the sensor, then we don’t even get one bit of information. Before the light comes on, there are four possible states (not equally likely, by the way, but that’s not important for the following argument). 

Engine OK, Sensor OK; 

Engine OK, Sensor ~OK; 

Engine ~OK, Sensor OK; 

Engine ~OK, Sensor ~OK. 

When the red light comes on, you have some information because the state of:

Engine OK, Sensor OK is eliminated. 

But is it? 

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It certainly is — under a certain set of assumptions — but let’s try to tease apart what those assumptions are and see whether they necessarily hold in today’s world, or in tomorrow’s world. 

Let’s imagine for a moment that your automobile is bewitched and inhabited by an evil demon with limited magical powers, mainly to do with the car itself. If you’ve seen the movie Christine you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t seen it, please buy the book instead. It’s so much better. But let’s get back to our own evil-spirited car. This car, let’s call him “URUMPUT” because it sounds a bit like a car engine and because — you know, just because. Let’s imagine the car has a lot of mileage and is painted a kind of sickly orange color. The tires are bald, and it’s a real gas guzzler. It’s actually more of a jalopy than a car. Your friends would have assumed you could have done much better, but it is apparently what you’re stuck with for now. 

URUMPUT, unbeknownst to you, is actually out to kill you, but his powers are limited. He cannot simply lock the doors and reroute the exhaust till you pass out from the fumes. So, what it does is to over-ride the sensor so that you get out to take a look at your car so you open the hood and you look inside and BLAM! Down comes the hood on your head with enough force to snap your neck. When your neck is snapped, you don’t die instantaneously. You are aware that something is terribly wrong. Your brain sends signals for you to move; to get the damned hood off; but you can’t move. And, worse, you can’t breathe. Soon, but much too late, you realize something has gone terribly wrong.

You. 

Are. 

Dead! 

That blasted URUMPUT got you. Why?  Just because he could. He paid you no more mind than had you been an ant on the road. He gave you misinformation. That is information that you thought you had because you assumed you were dealing with a system that, although imperfect, had some degree of transparency. You certainly did not think you were dealing with an actively evil agent. But you were. And, now you’re dead. (But go ahead and read the rest as though you were still alive.) 

Of course, in real life, there are no bewitched cars. We all know that. 

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Do we? 

Let’s consider how much electronics and “smarts” already exists in cars. The amount will skyrocket with driverless cars. For one thing, the human “occupants” will be able to have much more engaging entertainment. Perhaps more importantly, the “brain” of the car will be able to react to a much wider array of data more quickly than most human drivers could. 

With all the extra sensors, communications, components, functions, protocols, etc. there will be greatly enhanced functionality. 

There will also be all sorts of places where a “bad actor” might intentionally harm the vehicle or even harm the occupants. Your insurance company, for instance, might fake some of the data in the black box of your car to indicate that you drove a lot during nighttime hours. It doesn’t seem to match your recollection, but how would you double check? You grudgingly pay the increased premium. 

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Behind on your loan shark payments? Oops? Your driverless car just steered itself off a cliff and all the occupants were killed. 

Oh, but how, you ask, would loan sharks get hold of the software in your car? 

Then, I have to ask you a question right back. Have you been watching the news the last couple of years? People who owe a great deal of money to the wrong people will do anything to avoid the promised punishments that follow non-payment. 

Our government at this point is definitely not much like old time cars that allowed you to see what was going on and make judgments for yourself. This government just sends out signals that say, “Everything’s Fine!” and “Do as I say!” and “Those people NOT like you? They are the cause of all your troubles.” 

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That is not transparency. 

That is not even informational. 

That is misinformation. 

But it is not misinformation of the sort where a student says: “Akron is the capital of Ohio.” That’s wrong, but it’s not maliciously wrong. 

When people lose a limb as a result of an accident, cancer, or war, they often experience something called the “Phantom Limb Experience.” They have distinct sensations, including pain, “in” the limb that is no longer there. The engine’s not working but the sensor is also bad. 

That’s where we are. 

The engine’s not working. The feedback to us about whether it’s working is also malicious misinformation. 

We have the Phantom Limb Experience of having a government that is working for American interests. 

We need to regrow the missing limb or get a really good prosthetic. 

We need straight information from the government which is supposed to take input from all of us and then make decisions for all of us. It’s never been perfect, but this is the first time it is not even trying or pretending to be fair or even accurate. People in top level positions in our government think that their oath of office is a joke. 

We live in a monster car — and not the fun kind — the Christine kind. 

The engine’s not working. And the sensor light means nothing. If you look under the hood to find out what’s really going on, you’d better have a partner ready to grab the hood and prevent it from being slammed down on your head. Because URUMPUT would do it with as little regard for you as he would have to out and destroy any other whistleblower. 

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The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

Author Page on Amazon

Story about Driverless Cars (from Turing’s Nightmares). 

Table of Contents: Myths of the Veritas (2)

04 Saturday Jan 2020

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

≈ 46 Comments

Tags

empathy, ethics, leadership, legend, mercy, myth, peace, story, tale, war

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Happy New Year!

Book Two of The Myths of the Veritas began on February 27th, 2019 and ended with the last post on December 31, 2019. Below is an index to all the chapters of Book Two.

Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire (At a feast, the Veritas are attacked by the ROI who used fire arrows.)

On Horses?   (The Veritas discover that Tu-Swift,  the younger brother of Many Paths, is kidnapped by “The People who Stand on Horses” – that is, the ROI Tribe.)

horse near trees

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Myths of the Veritas: The ROI (Introduction to the ROI Tribe).

Myths of the Veritas: The Z-Lotz  (Introduction to the Z-Lotz tribe).

Tu-Swift in a Cage (This chapter depicts the imprisonment of Tu-Swift.

Many Paths Constructs her Way (Many Paths struggles with her duties as a leader of all the Veritas and her duties as the older brother of Tu–Swift).

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths Becomes Clear (Many Paths, in consultation with others, determines to send a search party).

The Horse Whisperer (Tu-Swift is pressed into service training horses).

Search Party. (The adventures of the small search party sent to find Tu-Swift).

Dialogue and Discovery. (Many Paths leads a dialogue of discovery to reflect on what everyone collectively knows and what more they have yet to know).

Sun with face rising on the horizon.

Original art by Pierce Morgan

The Bonds of Horses and Humans. (Tu-Swift learns more about horses).

The No-Rock Rock and the No-Door Door. (Shadow Walker & the Search Party are Stymied by a seemingly impossible door).

The Alliance of the ROI & the Z-Lotz. (Background on the relation of the ROI & Z-Lotz tribes).

Trees Die at the Edges. (Tu-Swift reconnoiters his surroundings).

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

The Drums of Hooves, Humans, & Hearts. (The Search Party Follows the Easy-to-Track Trail of the ROI).

The Path not Taken. (Many Paths Receives an Unwelcome Offer).

Tu-Swift’s Dream (Tu-Swift’s Dream)

Unstrung Bow (Tu-Swift Manages to Disable some of the Bows of the ROI).

Fire Arrows (The Search Party is Attacked by the ROI using Fire Arrows).

Finger-Pointing (The ROI Ask themselves who is to Blame).

Post-Fire Blues (The ROI React to their Situation).

Too Many Tu-Swifts (Another Dream of Tu-Swift’s)

BRA-BRILL’s Audience (BRA-BRILL finds trouble with NUT-PI).

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Drawing by Pierce Morgan

Slow Tu-Swift (Tu-Swift is injured)

The Ashes of ROI 

Shadow Walker’s Shadow Walking (Shadow Walker returns to the Camp of the ROI alone)

Eagle Eyes Eyes an Eagle (After the Search Party becomes Separated, Eagle Eyes Spots one of the Eagles she Trained).

Tu-Swift’s Vengeance (Tu-Swift has the Opportunity for Vengeance on his Captors).

The Doors of Mystery (Some of the Search Party Return to the Odd Door Encountered Earlier).

Many Pains for Many Paths (Further Attempts to Undermine the Leadership of Many Paths)

Myths of the Veritas: Killing Sticks (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Witness Killings at the Great City of the Z-Lotz)

The Eyes of the Cat (Shadow Walker & Tu-Swift Meet some of the ROI)

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Cats Eyes Shows her Gift (Cats Eyes Shares a Gift).

Tu-Swift Dreams of Drums (… and the Dream is Real!)

A Wild Ride (In a Log Flume)

Is there Honor in Killing Sticks? (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Dialog about what they have seen).

The Illness that’s Everywhere (She Who Saves Many Lives shares with Many Paths).

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When Eagles Return (Many Paths Receives a Message from Eagle Eyes)

A Small Snippet of Cloth  (Many Paths Learns much from a Small Snippet of Cloth)

The Truth about Clouds and Gods (Eagle Eyes & Lion Slayer Continue their Homeward Journey)

Lion Slayer & Eagle Eyes Return (They continue their journey to the Center Place of the Veritas)

Mapping Out the Road Home (Shadow Walker, Tu-Swift and others Seek the Veritas)

Solomon’s Seal (Cat Eyes Prepares a Meal on the Journey)

Eagle Eyes Returns (At last, Many Path’s friend Eagle Eyes, along with Lion Slayer, return)

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Eagle Eyes Tells her Tale (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Recount their Witness of Killing Sticks).

Killing Sticks Dialogue (The Veritas Dialogue about Killing Sticks)

Skipping Stones (Trunk of Tree Confronts Many Paths; Shadow Walker & Tu-Swift Return; End of Book Two).

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Author Page on Amazon

Essays on America: Rejecting Adulthood

19 Thursday Dec 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

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

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

baby in white onesie

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

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

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

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

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

toddler with red adidas sweat shirt

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But there’s worse. 

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

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

blue jeans

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

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

But wait! There’s hope! 

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

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

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

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

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


 

Author Page on Amazon. 

Eagle Eyes Returns

16 Monday Dec 2019

Posted by petersironwood in apocalypse, politics, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

empathy, ethics, leadership, legend, myth, parable, story, truth

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The news of the return of Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer spread through the tribe quickly. When Hudah Salah first heard the news, she feared to believe it. She feared she might have misunderstood the language of the Veritas. As she scanned the faces around her and saw them all looking at her expectantly, she realized that she had heard correctly. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks and once she determined which way her husband would be coming she began to walk toward him in a quick but dignified fashion. As she spied the familiar figure of the man she had been promised to as hardly more than a child, she forgot her studied decorum and trotted and then sprinted toward him calling his name. A grin consumed him and he ran toward her as well falling into a long, tight embrace. 

The trio of berry pickers had just arrived in the Center Place of the Veritas when Eagle Eyes swung into the view as well. Trunk of Tree approached her awkwardly. She noticed something amiss in his bearing or she would have run into his arms as well. But perhaps, she thought, he has found another in my absence. For his part, Trunk of Tree saw her hesitation and considered that she was entering camp after a long absence in the company of another man, one for whom she obviously felt some affection. He frowned, not sure what to do in such a public forum. But Lion Slayer seemed to have eyes only for his own wife.  

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Many Paths embraced them both and suggested that rather than answering a thousand questions, they should all prepare a feast while their newly returned friends would have a chance to reconnect with their loved ones. After the feast, Many Paths suggested, the tribe should hear their tale from beginning to end, without interruption. After that, everyone could ask whatever questions they wished. Nods and assents as to the wisdom of this plan spread and the preparations were made. Many Paths saw that Lion Slayer took his wife by her hands and they made their way to their small tent. She also noted that Trunk of Tree spoke awkwardly with Eagle Eyes. After a few moments, Eagle Eyes walked over to Many Paths and the two of them embraced warmly. Eagles Eyes whispered to Many Paths during the embrace, “Many Paths, you can’t imagine how happy I am to see this place again. I look forward to sharing our adventures, but there is something I feel I must share with you immediately.” 

Many Paths glanced at Trunk of Tree who stood awkwardly nearby. She whispered back to Eagle Eyes. “Certainly, though Trunk of Tree needs your assurance soon.” 

Eagle Eyes stepped back a half pace. “I’m not sure he wants my assurances — or me. He seems much more distant than I pictured. Do you have any idea why?” 

“Yes, I think he was — it’s a long story, truly, but what is your urgent news? You and I — we can catch up later and I will say what I know about Trunk of Tree and what I surmise. Anyway, you should prepare yourself for the feast. First, what is your news?”  

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“I will say more later, to the whole tribe, if you deem it wise. Everyone got separated in a fire and Lion Slayer and I looked for our companions but found no-one. A large caravan left the village of the ROI, which burned down, by the way, to a very large place such as I have never seen. It had many walls and there we saw … we saw someone — perhaps, the leader of this City torture and kill someone.” 

“I am sorry you had to see that, Eagle Eyes.” 

“No, you don’t understand. It was the way he did it. He pointed a kind of magic spear at the man but did not touch him at all! Yet, it caused great damage and pain nonetheless. Three times he pointed this — we came to call it a ‘killing stick’ — and each time he pointed it, it made the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning. And, three times, blood flowed from another wound. We argued about whether we should try to steal this but if we were captured….”

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“No, you did the right thing. This is disturbing. But go now and rest for the feast. Talk with Trunk of Tree. You each thought you might be lost from the other. Some awkwardness is understandable. While you were gone — please don’t — never mind. Talk with him first, and we can talk later. I want to consult with She Who Saves Many Lives about your important news. You and I must talk more later.” 

They held each other’s hands and looked deeply into each others eyes. They nodded and parted, each to consult now with another. Eagle Eyes walked back to Trunk of Tree with her hands out. Many Paths, turned to seek She Who Saves Many Lives, but the minute she turned, there was the elder walking toward her. Her gait was graceful and purposeful, though it lacked the springiness of youth. 

Many Paths quickly related the observations of Eagle Eyes about the killing sticks. 

She Who Saves Many Lives staggered upon hearing the news and grabbed hold of a nearby wood stack for support. She bowed her head and shook it slowly side to side and muttered, “I should have told everyone. Or, at least told you.”

“Whatever do you mean? Told me what?” 

She Who Saves Many Lives sighed. “I had a dream, a prophesy dream, about such things. I should have told the tribe, or at least you, but I did not.” 

“Why?” 

“Indeed, Many Paths, now I think it a mistake. But the reason I did not tell the tribe. If they all knew that such a powerful weapon existed in the hands of our enemies and that we do not have such weapons, would it not panic them?” 

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“I don’t — I don’t know for certain, Revered One. But Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer witnessed it first hand. And they did not panic. They made their way back despite such a weapon. They lived to tell the tale. Have you not always said that decisions are best when based on what is actually true — that we cannot pretend wishes are facts.” 

“I have said that. And I believe it. Yet, it is also true that moods can be contagious. I wouldn’t want to have everyone give up without a fight because of all this killing stick or a prophesy dream about such killing sticks. A dark mood of hopelessness can be every bit as deadly as these killing sticks.”

Many Paths nodded. “Shadow Walker was just now saying the same thing.” 

The Older Shaman frowned. “Shadow Walker? Is he back? Are you okay?”

Many Paths looked at She Who Saves Many Lives and said, “What? Oh, no, he’s not back. I miss him. But sometimes…he feels so close to me. I took out one of the rings of empathy while I was walking back with Easy Tears and Trunk of Tree. I felt such longing for Shadow Walker and that I mindlessly fingered the Sixth Ring of Empathy, I imagined that he was so close. I could hear him talking and saying the same thing about moods being contagious and about not knowing whether to share some truth with someone else. I miss him. But somehow, I am sure he is okay. First, let us feast and then let us hear the tale of Eagle Eyes. Then, if it comes to you, you might share your prophesy dream about the killing stick.”

“Yes. It was more than just the killing stick, though that itself is worthy of thought. Everything was dying. But, I should share something else with you. It wasn’t only that I was afraid of spreading a dark and hopeless mood. There was one very odd thing about this prophesy dream. It disturbs me.” 

Silence. Many Paths began to wonder whether such a wise one as She Who Saves Many Lives had also the difficulty of choosing among so many ways to proceed, or whether there was one clear path but it was a difficult one to follow, or even begin. Many Paths imagined herself at the edge of a cliff overlooking water a roiling far below. A hundred enemies she knew would torture and kill her ran screaming toward her. She would jump. But it wouldn’t be easy. What to say? What to say, Many Paths wondered. Then, she simply smiled, moved forward a step and took the hands of She Who Saves Many Lives in her own, letting the warmth of their hands flow through each other and making a circle with their arms.

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In this way, each of them really felt, as well as knew, that they were both close cousins, leaves on the same twig of the great tree of life. There was no need for secrecy. It’s all about all of us learning for all of us. All of us realize that it would be easier to leap off that cliff with someone else.

She Who Saves Many Lives continued, “Whenever I have had a prophesy dream before, I feel a strong wind in my face. I feel as though I am walking…not really walking…but floating forward, being drawn toward what I am about to see of the future.”

Many Paths nodded as she looked intently into She Who Saves Many Lives. 

“But in that dream…in that dream I felt wind at my back, yet I was sucked backwards. I don’t know what this means. I have always heard in the tales handed down to me of dreaming in the former way. Is it thus with you as well?”

Many Paths said, “Oh, I hardly think my dreams really qualify as prophesy dreams…” 

She Who Saves Many Lives tilted her head back and forth and clicked. “Many Paths. Come on. No need for false modesty. We’re trying to solve a problem here. Have your prophesy dreams had you going backwards or forwards or both?” 

Many Paths nodded. “All my prophesy dreams save one have been as the first one you described, being drawn forward. But I also heard about prophesy dreams always in the terms you described long before I ever had one myself, so I suppose that could influence how it appeared to me, or indeed, how I remembered it.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives nodded, “Or even how you describe it to me since you would still like to be in my good graces. Which you always will be, incidentally. But let’s get back to the one that was not like that. In that one you were going backwards?”

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Artwork by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths shook her head. “No, I wasn’t going backwards. I stood there and watched things happening all around me. It was as though I could see every direction at once. It was like…when you are in a dance and everyone is singing around you and all the voices go together, but if you try, you can pick out the singing of each person because each person’s voice is slightly different. You can hear where everyone is all around you. It was like that but I could see as well as hear all around me. All my senses were everywhere! And, there were patterns. There were patterns sliding across patterns. But in my dream, there was not past. Nor future. There was only present. And present extended everywhere — everywhere at once. The past, the present, and the future were simply different ways to look at the patterns and only from one angle. The dream seemed to be telling me that past, present and future are all one. It makes no sense, but that is what it seemed.” 

A long silence fell between them: the old leader and the new leader. Each considered the words of the other. At last, Many Paths realized that though she loved to gain the wise counsel of She Who Saves Many Lives, Many Paths herself was now leader. In her judgement, once the tale of the killing sticks was told, everyone should dialogue about these killing sticks. At that point, she guessed She Who Saves Many Lives would volunteer her dream as well. The tribe as a whole must decide what this meant for them. For her part, Many Paths found it hard to believe the tribe would ‘panic.’ No, there were many ways to kill. Even if there were many killing sticks among the people who steal children, even such as those must drink, they must sleep, they must breathe, they must eat. But this was something for the whole tribe to think on. She felt again a deep longing for Shadow Walker. Without thinking, she began to tumble the Rings of Empathy in her hands.

IMG_5044

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Author Page on Amazon. 

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports including tennis, golf, softball, ping pong, basketball, etc. 

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

Fit in Bits shows how to work more exercise into daily activities. 

Turing’s Nightmares contains 23 short stories to explore the practical & ethical implications of AI & robotics. 

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