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Myths of the Veritas: OLIE

16 Sunday Aug 2026

Posted by in Veritas

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Many Paths & Shadow Walker glanced at each other. Instantly, each saw that the other had also heard the shuffling. Shadow walker continued in the same tone of voice he had been using, being careful not to inflect his voice with any hint of worry or concern. “Perhaps the next persons with whom we should dialog are Tu-Swift, Cat Eyes and her parents, Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns. These are the people who best understand the Z-Lotz.” 

Many Paths nodded. “I believe that Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes are going to share their recent findings with us tonight or tomorrow and then, they will be headed back to the library that lies over the mountain. We can talk with them and perhaps accompany them to gather still more information from her parents.”

Shadow Walker replied, “Great. I’ve had enough blackberries anyway.” 

They began to stroll off. Once they judged to be far enough away, they split up and stalked back to the blackberry thicket from two sides, like the pincers of a crab or the jaws of a cougar. Weapons drawn, they moved only when the wind stirred.  

For his part, Shadow Walker was sure their “mystery guest” was human. At first, he considered that it might be a small child from the Veritas hiding among the old stems of the blackberry bush hoping to overhear some adult talk that could be shared with friends. It would be a secret kind of knowledge and the child would gain status but providing this little seed of truth. His friends would plant that seed in their play activity and eventually try to grow a story, or even a whole moon’s worth of inter-related stories. A smile flitted across his face as he recalled doing this himself. As he re-neared the blackberry bush however, the sounds seemed too loud to be caused by the movements of a child. Whether child or adult or someone in between, the sounds were far too unskilled to be anyone from among the Veritas. 

For her part, Many Paths considered a large, clumsy animal to be the most likely cause of the sound. She kept imagining various animals and dismissing them, one by one. At last, she was left with an odd sensation. What is this thing, she wondered. It’s clumsy, large, but … apparently wants to stay hidden. It can’t be a boar who would simply crash out. She noticed the teeny hairs on the back of her neck stood up as though a sudden chill wind stirred. 

In a single moment: a scrambling figure in a dark cloak; a trap sprung, the jaws snapped together; scrambling, strong but ineffective struggler; same figure pinned by Shadow Walker while Many Paths stood near with long knife close enough to the stranger’s face that he could not avoid seeing it. “Who are you?” Shadow Walker insisted but the stranger screamed something back that was completely unintelligible. Shadow Walker looked at his adversary more closely and realized that he seemed vaguely familiar. He glanced at Many Paths. “This man is Z-Lotz or at least is dressed as one. This is exactly how the priests dressed. I saw a few on execution day. Some “priests” making a sport out of killing innocent people.” He turned back to the priest. “So, why are you here?” Then, he realized speaking in Veritas would not reveal much. He tried to think back to his time in captivity — and as king — where he had learned a bit of Z-Lotz. At last, he said haltingly, “You Z-Lotz. This is Veritas. You Z-Lotz. Why? Why you are here? What do you desire? Blackberries? I don’t think so!” 

Many Paths glanced at Shadow Walker. His face: a storm front; his forearm ready for a deadly strike. “Shadow Walker, my dear heart. I do believe this man has some very useful information for us. I’m quite curious to hear his story, just like you. But let’s hear the story to see whether it satisfies us. If it does, we may chat still more. If and when his story gets woven into some web of lies, we will recreate this wonderful scene and you will be free to break his throat if you wish.” During this time, the arrow eyes of Many Paths connected completely with Shadow Walker. She did not even glance at the Z-Lotz. 

Shadow Walker nodded, “Well said Many Paths. That is the wiser course. Now, who are you?” Shadow Walker grimaced as he remembered the language barrier and he repeated his last question in that tongue. “You name is?” 

“OLIE” the subdued man replied. 

Many Paths drew near. Removed her dagger from the sightline of OLIE but kept it close at hand. “I am curious how you came to be here. You must have a good tale to tell. It isn’t at all common to see an individual Z-Lotz. So, go on. Earn your dinner with your tale. We have more to offer than blackberries.” 

Shadow Walker narrowed his eyes and stared at Many Paths. What is she doing, he asked himself. She’s being nice to him. Why? Another part of his brain was processing the reactions of the stranger. Many Paths is being nice on purpose. She thinks he may volunteer the truth. I should have thought of that as well. Then, once again, the thought struck him that he could be more effective in life, if he would sometimes ask himself, “What would Many Paths do?”

Shadow Walker’s attention now zoomed in on what the man OLIE was saying. Shadow Walker listened intently, but still couldn’t comprehend very well so he asked the man to supplement his telling with the more universal sign language. The stranger complied and Shadow Walker found he could apparently understand the basics of what was being said. Shadow Walker made it clear that he could get up and they would sit together but not to run. Here then, is OLIE’s tale. Shadow Walker translated to Many Paths.  


“I was born, of course, in Read-It, the chief and most populous home of the Z-Lotz. My family was in the priest class and I did well in my studies so that I became a priest as well. I’m here basically because there is nowhere else to go. Read-It is gone. Z-Lotz are gone. I mean, most are. Many died in a plague. Then, we — ?! You are he! You are the king who left! Never in history has someone volunteered to step down. There was much chaos about the line of succession. Finally, the priests stepped in and said, “Look. This is absurd. We’re killing each other off. We should all work together as one team. When he said, ‘all’ he meant men. Men. Not women. So, the priests took over, including me. But soon, women started rebelling. The priests had gone too far, and fighting and chaos broke out. Many wanted to kill the priests. I barely escaped with my life! I didn’t have time to even grab my robes. I only had a simple shirt. But I found this on a dead priest. I looked at him and thought how that could be me. I took his cloak. I was hungry. I ate some blackberries. Then I heard someone coming. You two. So, I hid among the blackberry stems.” 

To Shadow Walker the story seemed plausible, but he knew that plausibility did not make it true. It could just as well be that he’s really here to find out where our defenses are, how many of us are there, what are good places to attack from. Or, he could be bearing another sort of poison for us — different but equally effective as the last nasty stuff they left behind. He glanced at Many Paths. If she were having similar thoughts, nothing in her face gave such thoughts away. Shadow Walker realized that his own face was not so well trained as that of Many Paths. He replaced his angry face with an inscrutable one. Over the next few minutes, Shadow Walker noticed both that OLIE continued to become apparently more relaxed and that after he put a neutral face on, OLIE began to glance at him as well. 

At the same time, Shadow Walker decided he would test whether OLIE truly understood Veritas. He added this phrase to his translation to Many Paths: “I wonder whether we’d be better off torturing him for information. That’s what they do.” He carefully observed the face of the priest and saw no clue there that OLIE had understood. Many Paths frowned and then her eyes widened. Shadow Walker added quickly, “Sorry. I was just testing whether he knows Veritas.” Again, he looked carefully at OLIE and saw no sign that he did.

After a long silence, Many Paths spoke, using Shadow Walker as her interpreter. She said that she appreciated his story. She said that she would like to learn more about the Z-Lotz. She said that she would like to invite him to a dinner where he could feast on more than blackberries. But she explained that not everyone in her tribe would be immediately trusting of the Z-Lotz. She described the strange stuff that had been given as a “gift” but that destroyed the arms of Stone Chipper. She described the plague which had nearly killed one of the tribe elders, their former chief, She Who Saves Many Lives. She did not describe how her own brother T-Swift had been stolen by the ROI as part of their agreement with the Z-Lotz.

“I see. Yes.” OLIE’s reply seemed insightful, yet blind. Shadow Walker & Many Paths waited for him to elaborate; perhaps, even to apologize. OLIE made no move to flee, nor did he seem to show any interest in conversing. He glanced back at the blackberry bush. Despite the predations of at least the three of them, there were still plenty of berries left. 

Many Paths smiled. “Let us return to the Center Place of the Veritas. I will introduce you to a few people first and explain your circumstances so that you will be safe. In order to do that, and ensure your safety, it will necessary to know a little more. Do you believe you are being pursued by any of the Z-Lotz?”

OLIE made a quick, almost ritual, shake of his head. “No. No-one would bother. People are hungry and tired of fighting as well. For a short time, it seemed as though we might conquer the disease. Just as you said.” Here, the man looked directly at Shadow Walker. “But, you see, there was the matter of who was to be leader. After you left, fighting broke out. Many wanted to claim the throne. The fighting meant … everyone got close to everyone and there was little time for medicine or rest. Some few, including me, never got sick. We may have claimed…some may have claimed that it was because they followed God’s directives more fervently. At first, this sounded like a good plan. Many tried to be more pious, but they got sick anyway. And, then, they became quite angry with us. At first, they were angry at the priests who had given such useless advice, but the anger spread to all priests.”

OLIE paused and looked down. Shadow Walker & Many Paths glanced at each other. “The priests are perhaps responsible partly. But…” He glanced at Shadow Walker. “When you left so suddenly and unexpectedly….it made everything worse. We didn’t know what to do. We made up new rules and tried to give the men privileges. They were pleased, but eventually, it backfired. Too much violence. My faith…? I don’t know. I don’t know. But without the Book, without God, what is there? Once the people stopped doing what we said, how could they be in tune with God. Imagine what would happen to your people with no-one to tell them how to interpret the Book.” 

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Many Paths looked intently at OLIE’s face. She was astounded. Many Path saw no hint that OLIE was trying to deceive her. Yet, it seemed to her impossible that the Z-Lotz, or at least this one, would know so little about the people they made their enemy. She frowned. Could they possibly know that the Veritas had no real “Priest Class”? Could it be that the Z-Lotz hadn’t known that the Veritas were ignorant of books until a few months ago? Or, that everyone among the Veritas created or discovered their own relationship to the Great Tree of Life? She took a deep breath. She tried not to scoff at OLIE’s apparent ignorance but instead to use it as a guide to reflecting on her own ignorance:

What had I, or indeed, any of the Veritas, known even a few years ago about the Z-Lotz or the ROI or the Cupiditas? About the Fierce and Formidable warriors from the frigid north or the Nomads of the desert? We Veritas had not even known for certain that there were more Veritas on the other side of the mountain.

Many Paths thought back to the empathy test that required them to try to see the world through the eyes of various animals. Even before those tests for the Rings, every hunter learned the ways of those who would be prey or predator. How was it then that the Veritas as well as the Z-Lotz had learned so little of the ways of their neighbors? 

—————

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Second Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Third Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Fourth Ring of Empathy

Math Class: Who are you?

Dance of Billions

The Declaration of Interdependence

The Bill of Obligations

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Author Page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3

Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d

Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j

Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558

Myths of the Veritas: A Pattern Language

12 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by in politics, psychology, Veritas

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Many Paths rose. Shadow Walker enfolded her in his strong arms and she returned the gesture. He stepped back, still holding both her hands in his and smiled as he spoke. “Come with me! I’ve got something to show you!” 

Many Paths tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Can it wait? I’ve just been talking with She Who Saved Many Lives. I’ve got the work on setting up our meeting with the other tribes. So much needs to be done.” She sighed and bit her lip. “So much to do, but I’m not sure what comes next.” 

Shadow Walker could see that she was concerned. He frowned sympathetically. Suddenly, Shadow Walker chuckled. 

“What joke is this that brings laughter to your heart?” Asked Many Paths. “I’m serious. There’s much work to be done.”

“I never thought of this before, but — Many Tribes. Many Paths. You see? Just as you yourself think of many ways to do things — many more than most of us have patience for — so too do the various tribes try many paths of how to live.”



The eyes of Many Paths grew wide. “Yes! Of course! I never saw it before either! It’s just the same, in a way. Maybe that is a good way to explain it to the many tribes I hope to convene. It is in keeping with the wisdom of the tale of the Forgotten Field. We don’t necessarily have to agree on every path we take; we just have to be sure that we work together when we must.” 

Shadow Walker laughed again. “That’s what I was thinking. Just because of your name.” Many Paths and Shadow Walker gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment and he squeezed her hands. After a pause, he continued. “But that is not what I came to tell you. Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes have discovered a book that has many recipes for making the kind of meeting that you wish to convene with the many tribes. You should come see for yourself!” 

Many Paths frowned again. “How can that be?”

Shadow Walker smiled and now Many Paths smiled as well. She sensed that the sunny mood of Shadow Walker would not be clouded by her worry. But she looked at her mate askance. “I still don’t see how a book from long ago can be so well-suited to my current task at hand.” 

“Come with me, love, and judge for yourself. It appears that you may not be the first person to think about how best to cooperate, after all.” 

Many Paths snorted. “You will not be deterred I see, so yes, let’s go see this book you claim will help.” 

Shadow Walker smiled again. “Yes! And, if I am wrong, and the book is useless, you and I will have a pleasant walk on a beautiful day and we’ll have a chance to see your brother and his friend, Cat Eyes. 

Shadow Walker and Many Paths soon arrived at the hidden entryway that Trunk of Tree had accidentally discovered while stalking a deer. This hidden path connected the Veritas who had so long lived separately on the two sides of the snowy mountain. They arrived in the Village of the Veritas on the other side of the mountain. They were greeted warmly. Their kin on this side of the mountain felt fully committed to having a meeting with all the tribes. 

Many Paths happened to spy a group of elders chatting excitedly. As she guessed, this signaled that the presence of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes. Many of the Veritas on this side of the snowy mountain had now learned how to read the strange markings arranged in books. In the center of the group, she smiled to see her young brother, Tu-Swift. She called out his name and  he smiled broadly and waved for her to come join the group. She noticed that though the group included many elders, there were also people of every age, even children of no more than six or seven summers. Gradually, the people so gathered noticed Many Paths and Shadow Walker approaching. Tu-Swift & Cat Eyes came out to greet them. Tu-Swift smiled broadly as he greeted her. “I see Shadow Walker brought you already! Come! Look what we’ve begun to read!” He held out one of the hundreds of books that had been recently discovered. At first glance, the book looked just like the others, but then she noticed that it had an elaborate symmetrical drawing on the cover.

Tu-Swift & Cat Eyes had become proficient at reading. He could hardly constrain himself as Many Paths sounded out the markings on the cover as she read the title aloud, “A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation.” Tu-Swift could not wait any longer so he began showing her the various chapters. “Look! It’s a whole book to help you with your meeting with the other tribes! Here, look! It is a whole book of recipes or patterns for helping people to better collaborate! Here’s one called ‘Who Speaks for Wolf.’ Another one: ‘The Rule of Six’ and here. Look! Another: ‘Small Successes Early.’ 

He showed her the pages one after another. Many Paths barely had time to read the titles before Tu-Swift jumped to the next one. There were dozens! Tu-Swift laughed. “Can you believe our good fortune? This should help us with the meeting, right?” 

Many Paths hugged her brother and then smiled broadly at Shadow Walker as she assented.
“Yes. These — these Patterns — they seem that they would be a big help. But it will take me time to read these. I am not so swift at reading as you are brother. But thank you for finding these. Can I borrow this book until I have had time to read them all?” 

Cat Eyes said, “Of course. But we have come up with another plan. See what you think. Tu-Swift and I will take turns reading them to you. You and Shadow Walker can listen and then we — and some number of interested Veritas should discuss each one before we go on to the next. We have to see which ones might best work for the meeting, but also for before the meeting and after the meeting. It’s clear from the book of Patterns that an effective meeting depends on what you do before the meeting begins and after as well, not just what happens during a meeting. What do you say?” 

Many Paths let out a long slow breath. “I did not come prepared for such a thing. I thought we would go back this very day. That’s what Shadow Walker led me to believe.” She stared at her mate.

Shadow Walker’s good mood could not be dampened. He shook his head. “I had no inkling that Tu-Swift wanted us to stay for an extended discussion. I think it’s a good idea though. Here’s another. I will walk back and get whatever you need. We don’t both need to go.”

Tu-Swift interjected, “I have an even better idea. I’ve already read most of the book. Let Cat Eyes begin reading these Patterns to you and then you can discuss. Meanwhile, I’ll go back and get anything you really need although I can’t really imagine … we have everything you need right here, Many Paths.” 

Many Paths shook her head. “Is your leg that well heeled already? Why not send someone … someone unhurt?”

Tu-Swift laughed. “You mean someone faster. There is no-one faster.”

Shadow Walker’s face finally managed its own frown. “That can’t be true. You surely can’t be the fastest runner here yet. You’re still on the mend.”

Tu-Swift smiled, “Ah, yes. I am still on the mend. But who said I would be running back?” His eyes twinkled. 

Many Paths pursed her lips. “If you’re not running…. Ah! But you have continued to learn how to ride horses haven’t you?!”

Tu-Swift smiled at his sister and nodded vigorously. “Correct!” 

Many Paths sighed. “You are amazing, dear brother. But you are right. I don’t really need anything. But the people should know.”

Cat Eyes said, “Some of the people here, including my parents, were going to visit later this afternoon for trade. They can take a message to your people.”

All agreed. Many Paths gave her message to and they all found comfortable places to sit. Tu-Swift began reading the first Pattern. 

—————————

A Pattern Language for Cooperation and Collaboration

Author Page on Amazon

The Forgotten Field

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

The Three Blind Mice

Listen you can hear the Echoes of your Actions

The Declaration of Interdependence

The Only “Them” that counts is all of us

The Watershed Virus

Ghosts of Flowers Past

We’re all in this together

Myths of the Veritas: Love Notes

04 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by in fantasy, fiction, leadership, love, management, nature, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Shadow Walker awoke before dawn. He looked over at Many Paths, grateful for her, for the healing of life that had finally mended his leg, for the people he lived among. His imprisonment in the Great Walled City of the Z-Lotz had shown him that not all tribes are built on love and trust and truth. 

He smiled at Many Paths. He was sorely tempted to gently awaken her, but instead decided to treat her to some fresh blackberries. He had noticed some along the long, hidden path that now connected the Veritas here with those who lived on the other side of the mountain. He arose quietly and slipped out the front of their cabin when a thought occurred to him. The writing that Tu-Swift had discovered need not be limited to books. 

Shadow Walker softly stole back inside and wrote a simple note and put it beside Many Paths. He smiled as he imaged her awakening, not seeing Shadow Walker but then noticing that he had left a token of his love that could actually be read by his love. Every time he thought of it, he felt amazed all over again at this new world of writing and reading. 

He stopped by Tu-Swift’s cabin on the off chance Tu-Swift was also up early. Shadow Walker thought that perhaps he should really think of it now as the cabin of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes. They were obviously in love, but, perhaps more importantly, Shadow Walker could see that the two of them worked well as a team. He smiled and thought of Many Paths. He whispered to himself, “Yes, Many Paths. We also make a good team.” 

The cabin of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes was empty of people, but Shadow Walker immediately spied a piece of birchbark with writing symbols on it. The two of them had gotten up early and started on their translation work at a nearby overlook which caught the rays of the rising sun. Behind a natural rock table, what was nearly a perfect semi-circle of granite cliff reflected the rays making it a pleasant place where the dew lifted more quickly than other places. So, it was here they made their workshop for their most serious work. Sometimes, they did their work in the most public parts of the Veritas villages so that others could see what they were up to, ask questions, and learn. They didn’t mind having their work interrupted to answer questions. At the same time, to them, the quest for knowledge was a passion, not just because they of their thirst for knowledge, but multiplied by the overwhelming premonition they shared that just as terrible things had happened before, they would again — unless, perhaps — they might be able to piece things together so as to prevent making the same mistakes yet again. Some plants do well in full sunlight and much water. Others do better in shade with little water. Sometimes, Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift needed to focus on understanding in a deep way. Those deep roots would not grow with constant interruption; hence, the special area. 

Shadow Walker picked his blackberries that morning without human companionship. That hardly means he was alone. He picked early enough to hear a concert of his songful birdish cousins. Shadow Walker could see many of his smaller cousins as well {Translator’s Note: This is what we would call:} : ants, spiders, aphids, ladybugs, butterflies, a walking stick, several snails, and a cricket. When berry picking is a full time job, the experience is, no doubt, completely different. What Shadow Walker experienced, as an adult, was precisely the joy that any small child feels as they pick berries for the first time, marveling in the fresh, sweet, rich taste as the teeny bubbles burst syrupy goodness onto the tongue.

Shadow Walker also still felt the joy of the attention-demanding weave of hands so as to capture the berry but avoid the sharp prickers, and he still felt joy from the knowledge that he was doing his part; contributing something to family, community, and himself. In Shadow Walker’s experience of the moment, all of that was still fully there. In addition, he thought of it also as a present for the woman he loved with all his heart. 

Perhaps that is partly why, when he had plenty of berries to fulfill his contribution to the anticipated breakfast with Many Paths, he continued to pick berries until late morning. Plenty of other people in the village could share in the fruit and some might dry some of the berries for much later. 

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When Shadow Walker did arrive back, much later than he had originally intended, he heard soft crying from within. His mood slid from a bright yellow joy to a dark purple sadness because that is what he received from Many Paths. 

He knelt down beside her, took her hands gently into his and asked, “What on earth is wrong?”

She looked up, sighed, and looked into Shadow Walker’s face. She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her, not with the energy necessary to signal another person that you like them or even the energy of a hug that lingers because it feels good. This was more like the hug of someone holding onto a tree limb or an overhang — holding on for dear life.

Shadow Walker knew the difference. At last, Many Paths released her hold, sat back up and smiled at him. She began,  

“Thank you for leaving me the note!” 

—————————

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Tale of the Three Blind Mice

The Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

It was in his Nature

Is a Dream

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Fish Have no Word for Water

The Dance of Billions

Corn on the Cob

Doing the Dishes Pounding the Corn

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: The Tale of Three Blind Mice

29 Wednesday Jul 2026

Posted by in fiction, leadership, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Many Paths sighed. “What do you mean by saying that it has all happened before, brother of mine?” 

Tu-Swift glanced back at Cat Eyes. Surely, Cat Eyes would be able to explain better than he could. But he could see that her parents Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns smothered her with affection, so he resolved to try to explain. “Throughout time, people have been prosperous for a time and then ruined it through the actions of the few who wish to indulge their greed and lies. We all know the story of the Orange Man. But there are many such stories, apparently from many places. Lies and greed always end the same way — with misery for the many and eventually with misery for those few greedy as well. I recently read — well, Cat Eyes read me a story about another liar whom they called “The Wobbly Man” who went into a beautiful, peaceful village and tore apart the people, one from another. And, just before Trunk of Tree came — before he discovered a short cut to the Veritas on the Other Side of the Mountain, we were decoding a whole series of stories that were meant to caution people so that they wouldn’t fall for the lies of the greedy. But why are such stories necessary? Why can’t people seem to see what the greedy are up to? If the answer to that puzzle is in the books, we have not yet found it.” 

Many Paths nodded. “I wish to know about these books and the wisdom in them. I need to hold council with people here. I need everyone’s wisdom to help me try to bring peace among the tribes. It seems that I may also gain good counsel from those who have gone before us. If, as you — and She Who Saves Many Lives — both seem to claim, this has all happened before, we can learn from these books what wisdom they have. Can you read me one of these stories?” 

So, it came to pass that Tu-Swift read to Many Paths the story called “The Three Blind Mice.” As he read, many of the Veritas gathered round to listen.

The Story of the Three Blind Mice.

Once before our time, a field of goldenrod provided a lovely home for a very large and prosperous camp-land of field mice. The goldenrod attracted grasshoppers and the mice loved the tasty and nutritious grasshoppers. When, as happens to all, eventually each individual mouse died, and they then provided food for the roots of the goldenrod which grew ever taller and more attractive to the grasshoppers. All was well in the golden field.



As things became ever more prosperous for the mice, a thought occurred to two of the mice. Their names were Cheat and Lie.

Cheat said to Lie: “We have more than we used to have. And that feels good. So, we would feel even better if we had more than anyone else.” 

Lie said to Cheat: “I suppose you’re right. But so what? Why would everyone agree to give us more?” 

They darted their eyes at random for awhile, wriggling their whiskers and trying to think of an answer to that puzzle. 

Presently, Lie said to Cheat, “We will lie to them! We will tell the that they are not happy. We will tell them that they are in danger! We will tell them that they cannot trust each other. They can only trust us. We will keep them safe!”

Cheat said to Lie: “That’s a wonderful idea!” Then, a mousy frown appeared between Cheat’s eyes and he said, “But why would they believe it? I mean look at us. We’re not by any means the fastest mice or the strongest. We don’t have the best eyesight. Why would they believe that we can protect them better than they themselves can?” 

Lie said to Cheat: “We will recruit Chaos to our cause! He has a knack for disorder. He will make everything so confusing that everyone will want to believe that we’ll take care of everything for them.”

That very night, while all the other mice slept, Cheat and Lie crept over to the usual sleeping spot of Chaos who was not too happy about being awakened.

Lie and Cheat cautioned him to be quiet and the trio snuck off to a part of the field that all the other mice typically avoided. They explained their plot to Chaos who readily agreed to play his part. He loved to confuse other mice every chance he had. 

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The three were startled by the sudden appearance of a huge pair of eyes atop a gigantic maw of jaws. The Fox’s voice however, was surprisingly warm and smooth. “No need to run. I’m not interested in hurting you three. I overheard your plans. Very smart. Very smart. Still, I think I could improve upon your plans quite a bit. With my help, you three clever mice will get what you deserve! You deserve more than an equal share. Much more. And, I will help you.”

The three mice were feeling both reassured and proud. After all, they had been called “smart” by a fox! 

Cheat asked, “How can you help? And why would you, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

Fox nodded sagely. “You ask two excellent questions. You are indeed smart mice. First, let me just ask you a question so that I may answer your question in a way more tailored to your needs. Aren’t there among all you mice some that annoy you greatly or that you find unattractive?” 

Cheat answered first, “I really hate those mice that have to make up and follow rules.” 

Lie said, “And I hate the ones that always insist on the truth.”

Chaos answered, “I hate folks with pinkish toes. They just disgust me. For one thing, I’m highly attracted to them. But I don’t want to be. So, that makes me uncomfortable.” 

Fox nodded. “I can see exactly why you find those sorts annoying. I do too! You say you want to make everyone afraid even though things are going well. Now, imagine how much more fearful everyone will be when a fox shows up and eats some of the mice. Not just any mice of course, but just the icky ones. Mice with pink toes or who insist on the truth or follow rules. Of course, we will first have to make sure that lots of your fellow mice also hate those with pink toes and so forth. And, now, as you clever mice surely see, I have answered your original questions. Firstly, I can help by making your fellow mice so scared, they will literally come to believe anything you say and won’t mind giving some of their grasshoppers to you. Secondly, the why is simple. I get to eat the hateful ones among you. And that will make life better for you as well — no more hateful ones around.”

And, so, their deal was settled and, sure enough, thanks to helpful suggestions from Fox, over time, many of the mice came to hate those who played by the rules and came to hate mice with pink toes, and came to hate mice who insisted on the truth. 

Fox was happy to have his mice “delivered to him” ready to devour. He no longer had to chase after them. 

After some months, however, the supply of the hateful mice began to dwindle. Fox was no longer satisfied. He made it quite clear that he needed to speak to Chaos, Lie, and Cheat who had by now grown quite fat with the extra provisions they took from the other mice. 

Fox began: “Chaos, Lie, and Cheat, you have done quite well. Honestly, I’m quite amazed that things have gone as well as they have for all of us. You’re obviously all doing well. Let’s keep things going for both our sakes. You’ve run out of hateful mice, but that’s not a problem. We will simply need to expand the circle of hateful mice a little bit. No big deal. I can help you figure out how. Maybe mice with scraggly fur or mice with crooked teeth or mice that are unusually small. It’s totally up to you. I am really just a pawn in your plans.”



And, for a long while things went along much the same. Fox would get his fill of mice without having to chase them. The three mice — Chaos, Lie, and Cheat grew fatter and fatter. Some of the mice were rather shocked that Chaos, Lie, and Cheat were fomenting hate against certain mice and then ordering them to be rounded up to end up in the stomach of Fox. Some of the mice were rather glad it was happening. They were eager to help. They convinced themselves that they had always hated such and such a kind of mouse. Most of the mice were just glad that they weren’t the ones sacrificed to the Fox. After all, this was a world full of woe, just as Chaos, Lie, and Cheat kept saying.

At last, there came the day when Chaos, Lie, and Cheat had truly sad news to share with Fox. Cheat, Lie, and Chaos drew straws to see who would break the news to Fox. Lie lost and so he began: “I’m so sorry to break the bad news to you, Fox, but we seem to have run out of mice! We drew our circle tighter and tighter just as you suggested but you’ve now eaten up all of our hateful kin. But the good news is that you have been quite well fed for quite awhile and have plenty of fat to tide you over for a few months.”

Now, Cheat chimed in: “I suppose you’ll be moving on to other fields where there are still many mice?” 

Lie added, “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Fox.” 

Fox smiled in a foxy sort of way: “Indeed it has. And, I will be moving on to other fields as you suggest. But, our business is not yet over, and I won’t be leaving this field today. First, to show my gratitude to three such clever mice, I have gifts for you. For each of you, I have a tooth of solid gold. Here, walk right in and take your trophy tooth.”

Fox opened his mouth wide. In walked the three clever mice to claim their prize. 

And, never walked out.

When Tu-Swift finished, everyone sat silently for no-one wanted to be the first to speak. Each person who had heard felt a heaviness inside. Each recognized from their own experience how easy it is for greed to lead to blindness; for those who have more, to think that they will be cleverer than all the overly greedy people who went before. It had been so for the Orange Man. It had been so for NUT-PI. It had been so for ALT-R and POND MUD. Each wondered whether the Veritas were doomed to suffer the same dismal and inevitable fate. Or, whether this time, perhaps Many Paths could once again help them find a ray of hope.

———————————————

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Essays on America: My Cousin Bobby

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

When Greed’s the Only Creed

All We Have to Lose

After All

The Broken Times

Absolute is not just a vodka

Plans for us; some GRUesome

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: Stories, then Plans

28 Tuesday Jul 2026

Posted by in fiction, leadership, management, nature, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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There are some things whose memory we retain throughout our lifetime. Some remember their first look through a telescope or a microscope. Some remember their first taste of alcohol or coffee. Many remember their first kiss. All remember the first time they held their newborn baby and grandchild. So too, was it among the Veritas. 

Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns immediately recognized the voice of their daughter despite their many years apart. They began to run toward the sound, but when they came within sight of her, they stopped. The couple held hands, and stared at their daughter who had now blossomed into a young woman. 

Tree Vines thought of so many wasted years, also of so many stories to tell and listen to. He would make it up to her — make up for ever allowing her to be stolen in the first place. 

Gathers Acorns regretted never have had a chance to talk with her daughter about so many important things. And who had raised her daughter exactly? And, what kind of a person was she? But she’s my daughter, she thought.  I want to hold her at long last. 

Cat Eyes bit her lip. She thought: Could these be my parents? I have a family? Why did they let me get stolen? Of course, they had no choice. Tu-Swift doesn’t hate Many Paths for letting them steal him. I shouldn’t be mad at them but at the Z-Lotz and the ROI. That’s who I’m really mad at. But I am mad at my parents as well. It’s crazy. I wish I could have talked with Tu-Swift before I met them so suddenly. That didn’t happen so…I do feel like hugging them though.

All this flashed through each person’s mind in a split second of awkwardness and indecision. Then, the three of them melted into one six-legged, six-armed god-tree of love. There were tears of joy and there were tears of regret and there were tears of anger and frustration as well. 

Many Paths approached the reunited family holding hands with both Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker. Soon, Many Paths noticed that the gaze of Eagle Eyes had shifted away from Family Together at Last to Trunk of Tree. She ran toward him and flung her arms around him. Many Paths noticed that Trunk of Tree smiled with true happiness. She was happy for him. She let out a little chuckle. 

Shadow Walker then smiled as well and tilted his head at Many Paths in a clear sign of query. The smile upon the face of Many Paths broadened. She rested her head on the shoulder of Shadow Walker. She spoke quietly so only he could hear. “I love you so much. I missed you. Among other things….” She paused and looked up at his large, warm & smiling eyes. “Among other things, I missed your wise counsel. I was just thinking how desperate I was to talk with you or Eagle Eyes or Tu-Swift. And, you were all gone. She Who Saves Many Lives is still sick and she’s asleep, so I didn’t want to disturb her. And, I’m not sure…well, sometimes she seems delirious. The other night in her sleep, she sat upright suddenly and said something like:

“It’s all happened before! This has all happened before!” 

I was about to start a conversation with her but she fell back down into a deep sleep. I mean what does that mean? So, I’m not sure I can trust her judgement right now. And everyone I really wanted to talk with was gone. And, now, you’re all back. And I don’t know … I know what I want to do. But there’s so much to do with the tribe. Can you wait a few hours while we deliberate?” 

“Wait for what?” Shadow Walker pretended not to have any idea what she was talking about. 

Many Paths simply hugged him tighter and said, “I must ask you this though. Are you all right? Did they harm you?”



Shadow Walker winced. He didn’t want to think about how he and Eagle Eyes had been ambushed so easily when they thought they were sneaking in unseen. “Not really. It’s no fun being in prison, and they were going to torture all of us. If it hadn’t been for Eagle Eyes, I’d be dead. She’d be dead. The parents of Cat Eyes would be dead. We really cannot thank her enough.”

Many Paths laughed. “Let’s let Trunk of Tree thank her first.” She smiled at him coquettishly.

Shadow Walker laughed with her for a polite period and then said, “Well, if they are going to have a private thanking session, then we … and well met, Trunk of Tree. Well met.” 

Trunk of Tree went straight to the point. “There is much to discuss and many people to thank. But right now, we must prepare for war.” 

Many Paths took on a serious tone as well. “I agree. We need to prepare for war — but not in such a way that it makes war more likely. We don’t know what the Z-Lotz will do. First, let us delve into what we have learned. Then, we may prepare more completely and thoughtfully. We must hear all the relevant stories first and then make plans.” 

Eagle Eyes, who had accompanied Trunk of Tree, said, “Don’t wait too long. But I don’t think we are in immediate danger. They seem to have lost their horses. And, I think they will be preoccupied for a time choosing their leader. I can’t tell how long, but the very people who would argue that Shadow Walker wasn’t a “real” king because he hadn’t by himself slain NUT-PI now face a situation in which no-one can claim to have killed NUT-PI or Shadow Walker. So, to regain legitimacy, they may well try to kill Shadow Walker, but they must first fight amongst themselves about who should do it. I think it will delay their plans. You see, none of the would-be kings wants to share the killing with any of the others.”

Many Paths shook her head and muttered, “What a lovely system. And I suppose no-one else gets hurt in the process?” 

Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker exchanged glances. He spoke thus: “People — innocent people — do get hurt in the process. Of course. How could it be otherwise? NUT-PI, in his attempt to kill the eagles, instead killed several of the Z-Lotz. I’m sure he didn’t care, but I felt bad for them. That’s one reason — I hope I did the right thing — I destroyed the killing stick and then later, when I had a chance to take one or two, I took none. It may not have been … we have no idea how they work. I was afraid if we tried to take one apart to understand better how it works, we might have killed some of our own. Also, I remembered our “imagining exercise” where people pretended to have them to think about their uses. And two of our tribe were about to use the killing sticks over nothing. I mean over something so trivial that I cannot recall what it was. And, I guess that they don’t recall either. There is a reason that they are called “killing sticks.” Because that is what they do. Kill.”

Many Paths said, “I think we must continue to debate this, but not now. Now, we must focus on hearing the stories about the Z-Lotz and their likely tactics. And … but, Trunk of Tree, where did you come from? How did you get Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes?” 

“I discovered a very short path to the Veritas on the other side of the mountain. I was hunting deer and the deer led me to this place that was a narrow cleft and then, I was at their village and there also were Tu-Swift and Eagle Eyes. These two are … well, they know more about bawks than anyone else! You should see it.” 

Tu-Swift, who had also joined the small group, said, “He means ‘books’ — it’s ‘books’ Trunk of Tree. Anyway, there is so much in those books, so many stories, no much information … and so much we still don’t understand. But this much we do understand. I have to tell you something. It is amazing and wonderful, but also … difficult. But we must understand the true story of how we got here before we plan what to do next. Do you agree?”

Many Paths shrugged. “I cannot disagree, at least not until I know more about what it is you’ve learned. What is it?” 

Tu-Swift took a giant sigh. He looked down at the ground for a moment and then right into the eyes of his sister, Many Paths. 

“This has all happened before.” 

——————————————————

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

You Must Remember This

Ah Wilderness

The Forest 

The Broken Times

They Lost the Word for War

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

The Isle of Right

All We Stand to Lose

Life Will Find a Way

Imagine All the People

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: Homecoming

27 Monday Jul 2026

Posted by in creativity, essay, family, fiction, leadership, management, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Many Paths trotted over to the location specified by the drum rolls. Her eyes skimmed over the path ahead, skipping from one good landing spot to another. She gave a little chuckle as she reminded herself that there was no need for another sprain in the family. Images of her brother Tu-Swift and her lover Shadow Walker both loomed into her mind’s eye. She missed both of them so much. She believed it likely that Tu-Swift was fine but Shadow Walker was another matter. She felt he was okay, but being surrounded by ROI and Z-Lotz…? That was inherently dangerous and unstable. She really wanted both of them to be with her. 

Then she sighed and thought to herself, If I am really going to attempt to bring peace to the tribes — or bring the tribes to peace — I must be able to master my own feelings. Trunk of Tree is not the person whose counsel I most wish for, but still he does have a different perspective on things and I should tell him that I value that. But … 

She stopped in the path and listened to the drum signals. There were four people approaching. So far as Many Paths knew, Trunk of Tree had stomped off by himself. Who were the other three? She frowned and bit her lower lip, but she took a deep breath and waited for the drumbeats to signal who his companions might be. Soon, she knew, the signal drums would inform her of names for known people and transmit descriptions for unknown people. 

Her eyes widened. The drums did not speak of Trunk of Tree. No! It was Shadow Walker! She began sprinting toward the spot the drums indicated. And, Eagle Eyes! And two more Veritas! Her strong legs now propelled her forward even faster, fueled by a mixture of gratitude, longing, joy, and curiosity. At last, she came around a bend in the path, went up a slight rise and saw a party ahead on the path. Shadow Walker!

She screamed his name, “Shadow Walker!” 

Shadow Walker saw Many Paths and began running as well. They came together in a rib-bruising clasp. They closed their eyes and kissed each other wordlessly. Many Paths chided herself for forgetting how wonderful her partner smelled. And tasted. She pushed him away at arm’s length to allow herself a good long look at him and then hugged him to her again. “Shadow, Shadow, Shadow!” 

She again pushed him away and smiled at him. “You have no idea. What? We thought… Dear Eagle Eyes.” She embraced her as well. “Who —? I’m sorry. Forgive me, visitors. I am Many Paths of the Veritas tribe.” 

Shadow Walker’s smile of joy seemed to illuminate the nearby sheaves of grass. “Many Paths, allow me to introduce Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns. These are the parents of Cat Eyes! We — there is so much to tell, but we must save much for another time. We must — I am afraid that we suspect the Z-Lotz may come after us. I am sorry to say, we must be prepared for another attack.” 

Many Paths greeted Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns with a genuinely warm smile. “I am very happy to meet you. Come. Let us go to our Center Place where we may prepare guards so that we may tell each other our stories in peace and safety!” Many Paths took the hands of Eagle Eyes in her own and then hugged her. “I missed you too! I could really use your advice on so much. There is so much. But wait! Are you sick? Are any of you sick? You don’t look sick. But very recently we have had a plague here.” 

Shadow Walker quickly explained that he believed all four of them to be well though there were many among the Z-Lotz and ROI who were quite sick and many had died. As the small group proceeded toward the village, many other Veritas came out to greet them as well for all had heard the drum signals. By the time they came to the Center Place of the Veritas, a great crowd had assembled. 

Many Paths strode up to the speaking stone that stood at one end of the clear open space in the middle of the village. She called out in strong, happy voice: “As you can see, Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes have returned! And, these two companions are Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns and all have tales to tell. But first, we must make sure the guards are on alert. Although they do not believe they were followed, they have reason to think we must be ready for another attack by the Z-Lotz, the people who steal children.” 

When she had finished her short speech a thousand questions began to be whispered while the drummers pounded out their message of caution to the guards that had been posted at the outskirts of the Veritas lands. When the drumbeat signals stopped, Many Paths held her hand out to Eagle Eyes. Many Paths desperately wanted to hear what Shadow Walker had to say, but she felt that Eagle Eyes should likely tell her tale first. 

She ascended the rock and described how she and Shadow Walker had quite easily tracked the recent envoys from the Z-Lotz. She told how the men they tracked had all fallen quite ill with red dots and how they had buried their bodies in rocks. She began to describe how unclean she and Shadow Walker had felt after. As she thought back on that, she felt the color rising in her neck so she quickly skipped ahead. “In any case, we snuck into the city of the Z-Lotz and thought we were unseen. We were captured and held separately. We had all been on the verge of being murdered in public by the King of the Z-Lotz, NUT-PI. He had a killing stick which he was going to use to torture and kill us along with many other prisoners. As she looked out on her tribe, she could see that they were spellbound. She nodded briefly and went on. “I looked up into the sky and saw eagles. I closed my eyes and imagined their calls.” By now, Eagle Eyes animated every aspect of her story. When she closed her eyes, she saw eagles right here and now. So did most of her audience.

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She continued, “I called them to me. They began to circle and then swooped down in a flash to attack NUT-PI. He tried to kill them with his killing stick but he was too slow. And…we had another weapon!” 

She paused, enjoying the expectant looks on the faces before her. “Not so long ago, some of you may have seen that we were playing with reflections and found that enough reflections of the sun, concentrated on one place, could cause small sticks to catch fire. The Z-Lotz put a shiny collar on us. While we were imprisoned, Gathers Acorns and I hatched a plan that, if we had a chance, we would shine the sun into the eyes of our enemies. Shadow Walker and the other men prisoners had similar collars. He quickly caught on to what we were doing and added their reflections. Since NUT-PI was the immediate threat, we all reflected our little suns onto him and his head burst into flames!” 

The eyes of the Veritas widened as they pictured someone bursting into flames. She let this image sit for a moment in the collective imagination of her tribe. Then, she resumed.



“Different tribes choose their leaders in various ways. The Z-Lotz choose by assassination! Since Shadow Walker, so we claimed, had killed NUT-PI, he should become their leader. As you might imagine, many objected to this, but, at least initially, since it was their habit, and the people were afraid, most accepted him — us really — as rulers. I can tell you more about how that went later, but first, there were several attempts to overthrow Shadow Walker by assassination. Last night, Tree Vines came at night and told us there was going to be an attack by many in the morning so we had to leave immediately. We came here. Obviously, the Z-Lotz already know where we are. But we didn’t see any signs that we were being followed. Still, prudence would say that we need to be careful. From the Z-Lotz standpoint, Shadow Walker is actually still king…so long as he’s alive, that is. But even apart from that, it’s clear that they would not mind exploiting us and possibly even destroying us.”

Many Paths spoke next. “Did you bring NUT-PI’s killing stick back with you? Were there more?” 

Eagle Eyes glanced at Shadow Walker. Then, their eyes locked. It was clear that Eagle Eyes wanted him to explain why he had made the killing sticks inaccessible. He nodded, almost imperceptibly and ascended the rock, unafraid to take a helping hand from his friend. “By sheer accident, we discovered a stash of killing sticks. By the way, I destroyed the one NUT-PI had. It was a thing of much violence, clearly, but beyond that, I knew nothing about how to operate it. So, I destroyed it. If I had kept it, it might have been used against me. I could not picture myself killing a human being in such a way with such a thing.” He paused as though reliving how difficult the decision had been.

Then, Shadow Walker continued his narrative.”We found a stash of killing sticks. By accident. We don’t know who among the Z-Lotz knew of its existence. We had not yet decided what to do with them when Gathers Acorns and Tree Vines told us we must leave with as little as possible. I made it so the Z-Lotz could not easily get to these killing sticks. If they know about them, they will eventually get them but, Gathering Acorns also poured a combination of fermenting acorns and sewage atop the killing sticks. She believes this will render them useless, not to mention disgusting, but we are not really sure.” 

Many Paths regained the gray granite stage, and said, “Now, here is another thing. These helpers of Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes — Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns — are the parents of Cat Eyes. They have been apart for many years. And, as soon as these two are rested from their journey, we will have a group quickly take them to their village on the other side of the mountain so they can be re-united at last with their daughter.”

A clear voice rang out from the edge of clearing. 

“That won’t be necessary!”

——————————————

The Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire

The Broken Times

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

All We Stand to Lose

The Isle of Right

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

We Won the War! We Won the War!

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Imagine All the People

Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

—————————————-

Author page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: Many Paths Finds Many Keys

26 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in creativity, fiction, leadership, management, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Many Paths frowned. She looked down at the wrinkly old lady who had been — and still was — her mentor, her shaman, her friend. She Who Saves Many Lives was drifting off to sleep but with a smile on her face, despite the difficulties and discomfort of the Red Spider Plague. Many Paths herself smiled. Even in sleep, the old Shaman made her feel better.

She decided to let her mentor sleep. Many Paths had been about to ask for a hint about the puzzle she had just been given. Many Paths laughed to herself thinking, Just as well. Her “hints” are just as likely to lead the student astray as they are to bring sunlight to the right path. 

Many Paths left the old shaman’s cabin and walked about in the Center Place of the Veritas. She greeted various members of the tribe warmly, and she had made it a point to greet everyone in sight and to reassure them that she was cured and that The Old Grandmother was resting comfortably. She had discovered that greeting everyone and having a short conversation with them allowed the maximum chance for uninterrupted thought. So, she settled herself at the porch of her own cabin. She reviewed what the old shaman had said to see if there was a clue to this seemingly impossible problem. 

“There are two locked boxes. Each contains the other’s one and only key. Yet, I am able to use the keys to open both boxes. How is that possible?”  

First of all, why had she brought this up? Was it just something that bubbled up in her overheated brain because of her fever? Perhaps. But Many Paths reckoned it more likely that She Who Saves Many Lives had intentionally chosen this puzzle because it held something useful for the problem at hand.

Well, thought Many Paths, to be more precise — not the only problem at hand — there are so many. But the one I shared with my mentor was how to bring together all the nearby tribes and broker a peace deal amongst them. Fires. Wars. Killing Sticks. Stealing children. It is all madness. And the Z-Lotz? Bringing the Red Spiders Plague on purpose? Giving us a gift which was really meant to sicken us? How can there peace with such as that? And yet — and yet, somehow her lover Shadow Walker and one of her closest friends, Eagle Eyes had become the leaders of the Z-Lotz! If, she reminded herself, the note brought by the Eagle could be believed. 

Many Paths sighed. She wished she could talk it through with someone. Yet…she had a feeling that She Who Saved Many Lives didn’t give her the puzzle because she wanted the answer. The old shaman already knew the answer. It was specifically designed to move something within Many Paths. Many Paths laughed aloud at her own train of thought. She shook her head and muttered to herself, “Here I am. I can’t solve the puzzle she gave me so instead, I’ve given myself a still harder problem — trying to read the mind of She Who Saves Many Lives! Although, I suspect that if I learn why she gave me the puzzle, it could help me figure out the answer. The much more sensible approach is to solve the puzzle and then it will be much easier to solve why she gave it to me.” 

Many Paths closed her eyes and put her fingers to her temple. With her eyes closed, she became much more aware of the warmth of the sun on her face. She quite consciously relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing. 

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She thought: Inventory. What do I know? There are two boxes. There they are. Many Paths pictured two large wooden boxes side by side. They were identical. What are they made of? Are there holes? Is it still a box if there are holes? Maybe it’s still a box, but they are locked boxes. Locked boxes are not really locked boxes if there are large enough holes for me to slide my hand through and simply grab the keys. They are supposed to be locked boxes. But why are they made of pine wood? No-one said anything about pine or even wood. They could be carved out of stone, I suppose or even of ice. The boxes could melt! But she said ‘use the keys’ — well, I suppose you could take the keys and warm them in a fire and then, use that heat to melt the ice…but no, I wouldn’t yet have the keys. I could wait till they melt naturally. Then I could grab the keys, but I wouldn’t be using them to open the boxes. Is melting a box really opening it?

So, how do I know the boxes are identical? Suppose I am one of the boxes? I am in the tribe but I am also myself — my own person — even though I lead the tribe. Something is nearby. I can hear the answer rustling in the bushes but it is still too dark to see it clearly. Two boxes. Not necessarily the same. One could be the tribe. One could be me. If I had the key to the tribe … and the tribe had the key to me….they could be the key I need to open me and I could give them the key to open them.

In the mind of Many Paths, the two boxes began playing with each other. She made them mentally chase each other in circles. Then, when she grew tired of that game, she had them continue their roles to the end. One of the boxes opened its giant “mouth” — a hinged side — and then “ate” the other box. 

Many Paths stopped breathing. Her eyes snapped open. “Of course!” She said aloud. Her first inclination was to run back to continue her conversation with She Who Saves Many Lives. But she shook her head. She’s likely still asleep, thought Many Paths, and besides. There’s the other half of the problem. Why did she…? Ah, of course! 

Many Paths saw that the second puzzle — why she had been given this puzzle when she had been telling She Who Saves Many Lives how much she wanted to bring peace to the tribes but she couldn’t even control Trunk of Tree — that wasn’t a puzzle at all. It was obvious. If she wanted to change the external world to be more peaceful, she herself would have to be changed — perhaps more peaceful — perhaps not. The puzzle didn’t specify exactly what about herself she would have to change. A puzzle merely illustrates a principle. It never dictates real world action. All the Veritas were taught this early, including Many Paths. 

Her intuition led her to believe the two “keys” were different in her dilemma just as they had been in the puzzle. But —she also believed that they would be closely related. Many Paths wanted the tribes to be more peaceful, more truthful, kinder, more cooperative. She sighed and issued a short laugh.

Many Paths said to herself, I want all the tribes to be more like the Veritas. I want them all to be Veritas. But — I can’t bring six tribes together and explain that they should all be just like me … or even more like me. 

Again, Many Paths had a sudden impulse to run back to She Who Saves Many Lives to share her new insight. And, once again, she immediately suppressed that sudden urge. Instead, she sighed. She did wish that she could discuss this with one of her friends. It was clear that she needed to make a change, but it also seemed obvious to her that it was just the sort of change that friends could help with. 

She thought, My friends will see in the moment that I am assuming everyone wants to be a Veritas and point it out. Eventually, the new way will permeate my thinking. But which friends? My most trusted friends are all unavailable at the moment. I’m not ready to allow the spread of rumors about a meeting with all the tribes. It can’t be just anyone. Could I talk about it with Trunk of Tree?

Many Paths took a deep breath. She reckoned she could talk about it with Trunk of Tree, but first, she needed to really see and understand his point of view. 

She thought, Prior to seeing him, I need to make a guess at his perspective and then I need to check it out with him. I can’t just assume it’s right, but I might make a start. He’s always thought he should be the leader because he’s the strongest. In his mind being strongest is the most important thing. I need to make him see that we all do think it’s important. We value his strength and all wish we had more of your strength. We also believe that other things are also important. And, it may be the case, that in some instances, being the strongest is the very most important thing for a leader to have. And, it may be the case, that in some other instances, being able to see the best, or hear the best, or speak the most convincingly, or think the most creatively. Who knows? We have a way to choose a leader. And in that way, I was chosen. It doesn’t mean that you are not the strongest. It does not mean that we care nothing about you or your strength. It just means that for now, the shaman judges that the seven rings of empathy were the best trials. Of course, the people are the final judge and if everyone wants to change the way we choose leaders, so be it. Perhaps everyone will decide a wrestling match should determine the leader — or, as with the Z-Lotz and Cupiditas,  — a fight to the death. If the people decide that, then so be it, and I will support you. And so will Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes and Tu-Swift. But as it is, I am the chosen leader. That doesn’t make me your ruler. I come to you as a friend and I need your advice precisely because you and I don’t always see eye to eye. Here’s what I’m thinking….

Her thoughts continued: Of course, I must be open to many paths of conversation. Perhaps I should suggest that I speak uninterrupted for a time. Trunk of Tree could be a good confidant if he will hear me out first. It requires so much work though to work with him. Of course, the same can be said of getting the six tribes together. It’s like trying to weave…yes…it is like weaving! The tribes can all be different. We can do things differently. But the question is, what do we want to work on together. And let us move in different directions and make the whole basket stronger. 

Many Paths felt relieved somehow and looked forward to having an honest conversation with Trunk of Tree. She circled through the village looking for him but he was nowhere to be found. She wondered if he had gotten so made that he had injured himself or even left the tribe. She shook her head. She was having a bad day of fishing or hunting. She chuckled to herself and thought: I was actually looking forward to talking with Trunk of Tree and he’s not here. Oh, I miss Shadow Walker! 

Just then, the attention of Many Paths turned to the air. She heard a distinct drumbeat pattern that someone safe was approaching. She thought: It looks as though I will have my conversation with Trunk of Tree after all. 

————————-

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Wobbly Man

Essays on America: The Isle of Right

The whole is greater than the sum of the parts

The Broken Times

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

Author Page on Amazon

The Myths of the Veritas: Night Moves

26 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in creativity, fantasy, fiction, leadership, management, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Shadow Walker sat in silence at the edge of the dimly lit “Royal Chamber.” It was his turn to “stand watch” and though he had trained his mind to concentrate, his mind nonetheless wandered from time to time. He thought of many things, but mainly of Many Paths. Despite the myriad talents of Eagle Eyes, he wished Many Paths were there instead. The mind of Many Paths was well suited to thinking through the current dilemma. Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes had agreed to provisionally treat his three chosen ministers as confidants. He had hated to do it, but he fed each one of them different “confidential” information which he asked that they not share with anyone else. In this way, he could eventually suss out whom he could really trust. 

In the “Royal Bed”, as it was known, they had folded extra blankets to make it appear that two people were sleeping cuddled together. Meanwhile, he and Eagle Eyes had agreed to take turns watching to see whether any assassin would appear. This much, at least, seemed like a good plan for now, but they needed their sleep. It wasn’t sustainable to stay alert on short sleep indefinitely. And besides, it wasn’t only in their sleep they could be assassinated. Even if they managed to avoid death at night, could they be on their guard sufficiently to protect themselves the entire rest of the day? Day after Day?

At least being potentially beset on all sides helped Shadow Walker stay awake for his shift. He could see the form of Eagle Eyes lying asleep on the floor near the opposite wall. He cared for her. She had already saved his life at least twice since arriving at the City of the Z-Lotz. For now at least, the Z-Lotz as well as the remnants of the ROI treated him as king and bowed down deeply to him. This was a move which invariably sickened Shadow Walker inwardly, but he tried to portray the face of someone who would find such actions pleasant. For this image, he chose his memory of Trunk of Tree whom he imagined would like it if people bowed down to him. 

Trunk of Tree. There was another dilemma. Trying to convince Many Paths that I was dead? Trying to take her for his own mate though — what about Eagle Eyes? Trunk of Tree was good in a battle. That much was so. Perhaps, he … he takes actions that might lead to war because that is what he’s good at? This will not help me here though…although, it does relate to trust. Trust. 

Trust is hard! That much seems certain. Trunk of Tree and I have been friends our whole lives and yet…

Suddenly, Shadow Walker stopped breathing to listen better. He had thought he heard a commotion outside. This “City” as the Z-Lotz called it, was always noisy, even at night. But the noise was not a harmonious, peaceful song as given by the birds, bugs and bullfrogs of night. For a moment, it was too quiet and then … a disconcerting noise. So, maybe it was nothing. He heard nothing more and gradually relaxed his muscles. His mind turned back to trust. 

(Weaving in different directions makes it stronger.)

He did actually trust Tree Vines, and to some extent, Tree Vine’s wife, Gathers Acorns, as well. And, that degree of trust may have slowed his hand just enough as he leapt to his feet and nearly beheaded her. In an instant, Eagle Eyes was awake and on her feet as well, bow in hand and drawn. 

Shadow Walker was so taken aback by his nearly killing one of the few people they could trust, he stood speechless. Eagle Eyes hissed, “What are you doing here? You sneak into someone’s chamber in the middle of the night? You could have been killed! How would that be? How would we explain that to Cat Eyes? How … “

Gathers Acorns held up her hand and shook her head slowly. “Stop! Listen! You must hear my tale and then you can decide whether I acted stupidly.” 

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes looked at each other a moment and sighed. Shadow Walker calmed his breathing but his mind was still not totally convinced she wasn’t there to assassinate him. He tightened his jaw and nodded for her to speak. 

“No time for long explanations, but many, many Z-lotz are coming to kill you tonight just before dawn. You must leave now. Immediately. Tree Vines and I will accompany you if we may. We have provisions. Take whatever is close to hand. Your weapons. We must go quickly!” 

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes again looked to each other for guidance. Then, they realized they were both doing it and it struck both of them as funny. In different circumstances, they might have laughed. As it was, however, Eagle Eyes spoke, “We don’t have time to destroy — or take — all the killing sticks! Should we take a few?” 

In Shadow Walker’s mind a picture flashed: As a young brave, he had been looking over the edge of a deep well. His dad held him tight across his waist. Far below, he thought he could see a reflection of himself, but it was dim. He wasn’t sure. So, he waved to the reflection to see whether it would wave back. In his excitement, he had forgotten that his waving hand held his favorite rock — a gray crystal of galena — lead ore. The rock slid from his hand. He realized in an instant it was gone forever. Inaccessible.

Shadow Walker looked at Eagle Eyes and said, “We don’t need to destroy them. Let’s make them all inaccessible.” 

“How?” Eagle Eyes shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. 

For all we know, no-one but us actually knows how to move the partition or even that the weapons are there. It would be just like NUT-PI not to tell anyone about it. He would have that special lever made and then likely killed the carpenter who did it. Or, perhaps, the threat of death would be enough. In any case, we can likely destroy the link between the knob and the partition. We can’t count on no-one knowing. Or, breaking through the wall if necessary.” 

Gathers Acorns drew near and put one hand on each of their shoulders. “We can also make them inaccessible another way. It won’t take long. I’ll see to it while you pack up. Don’t make a disturbance and keep whatever you take to a minimum.”

Shadow Walker strode to the knob on the back of the bed. He thought it possible that yanking hard might break the connection. He didn’t feel it had actually broken, but a narrow wooden rod now stuck out a few inches. Shadow Walker drew his sword and hacked straight through the rod. He could hear a clattering down below the floor.

Eagle Eyes looked at Shadow Walker. “You realize, we can’t get them either.”

“I know. I know that I made a decision for the whole tribe.” 

Gathers Acorns reappeared with Tree Vines. She said breathlessly, “It is done! Let us go!” 

For a brief moment, it occurred to Shadow Walker that it could all be a trap. 

“Trust”, he whispered to himself, “a difficult puzzle. For another time and place.”

Out into the night, lit only by a few oil lamps, they sped to the edge of the city, whereupon they vanished into an even darker night lit only by stars. Traveling fast at night held its own dangers, but they wanted to put as much distance as possible between their party and, what they imagined would be, much larger search parties. 

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———————————-

Killing Sticks 

The Forgotten Field

A tale of greed: The Orange Man

Another tale of greed and division: Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

Rings of Empathy

Come to the Light Side

Try the Truth

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

We Won the War! We Won the War!

The Broken Times

Cedars Sighing in the Wind

23 Thursday Jul 2026

Posted by in apocalypse, fiction, leadership, nature, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Cedars Sighing in the Wind

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When Cat Eyes had finished reading aloud the story of The Wobby Man, she put aside what the ancients called a “book” and looked expectantly at Tu-Swift. He seemed lost in thought — tortured thoughts filled with thorns — by his visage. Cat Eyes stood and grabbed a nearby water pouch. Reading aloud made her thirsty. She sat back down across from him. She smiled. She was happy to see him again; happy to be reunited with her parents; happy at all the things that the tribe had learned from their discovery; happy that it had taken both of them working together, with their mutual friend Suze, in order to discover how to read. The joy of Cat Eyes felt a sharp edge though because Tu-Swift seemed anything but happy. 

“But, I don’t — .” Tu-Swift didn’t finish what he said to Cat Eyes because he didn’t know what he himself meant to say. Instead, he shook his head from side to side. “Why?” 

Cat Eyes took his hands into her own and looked at him with love in her eyes, a love that he did not see because his head bowed down and his eyes were only upon the ground. After a few moments she put one of her hands under his chin and lifted it up. They looked into each other’s eyes and she could see that his eyes were tearing up. “It’s okay. It’s to learn from, like all the stories here.” 

Tu-Swift shook his head from side to side and bit his lips. “But why?” His voice was plaintive as though he had a thorn stuck painfully under his fingernail and pled for her to remove it.

Cat Eyes sighed and asked gently, “Why what? What are you struggling with? Maybe we can work it out together. Often, life is a fight, but it doesn’t mean you have to be alone in every fight.”

Tu-Swift nodded. After a pause he said, “Why did The Wobbly Man do all that evil? And why did they let him?! Why couldn’t they see what he was up to?” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “There are people who do things — evil things — such as steal children. Perhaps there always will be. But I don’t think they think of it as evil. To them, it’s their way of … living … or of having fun. They like destroying life and love in others … I guess because they cannot experience it themselves. I don’t know.” 

Tu-Swift sighed. “You are right of course. Within the Veritas where I grew up, there was one such. The Wobbly Man sounds much like him. He manipulated others. He was cruel. Yet, he was such a good liar that he almost fooled our leader, the wise She Who Saves Many Lives. He actually betrayed the tribe to NUT-PI. And here’s the worst part. He got several other braves to go along with his schemes. Without ALT-R, I don’t think POND MUD or KAVANUT would have even been evil.”

“Yes.” After a pause, Cat Eyes added, “It’s much like that Red Spotted Death. It can spread from person to person. And, just as there are evil people even in societies based on truth and trust and love, so too there are people who act in good ways even among the Z-LOTZ and the ROI. It’s much like the story about the two wolves inside someone and which one you feed. The customs of the tribe can make it easy to feed the good wolf — or easy to feed the bad wolf.” 

Tu-Swift let out a long sigh. He stood up and held out his hand. Cat Eyes took it and, for a time, they walked in silence. Without intending to do so, they ended up at the entrance to the now dysfunctional tunnel. They stood for a time, holding hands in silence staring at the tunnel. At last, Tu-Swift voiced what both were thinking. 

“How could a people know so much as to build a tunnel through a mountain — and yet be so ignorant as to let a liar destroy their village?” 

Another long silence ensued until Cat Eyes sighed and spoke again. “We still have many books to read and understand. Many books are filled with words whose meanings we have yet to understand. It appears that it wasn’t just a village here and there. The plague of evil lies destroyed everything. I know you have struggled with whether to use the fire sticks….” 

Tu-Swift wondered why Cat Eyes stopped speaking. He looked at her and saw that silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. He squeezed her hand and asked gently, “What is it, Cat Eyes? Why are you so sad?” 

“Actually, I was just thinking a little while ago how happy I am about so many things. Yet … we as a people once had so much. We knew so much. But we destroyed it. If the books are true, and if our understanding is correct, weapons were developed that … weapons were created that were far worse than fire sticks. Far worse. Yet, there were also treatments for every disease. But the people forgot that they were part of the Tree of Life. People forgot that they were all One. People — not everyone — but enough — just began to grab everything they could for themselves. Lying became commonplace. Once the truth meant nothing, decisions were made by power alone. That is bad enough in the Z-Lotz or, from what you told me, among the Cupiditas. But imagine that they had — not just fire sticks — but horrible weapons that could destroy many villages and all the people in them. Of course, in doing so, these weapons killed birds and butterflies and trees and no-one even seems to have noticed! Maybe … perhaps, we are not really understanding. Maybe they are just stories to prevent people from becoming what the books say that they became. Maybe.” 

Tu-Swift bent down and plucked up a small flower that had grown in the cranny of the wall that held the now defunct controls for the tunnel door. He gently braided the stem into the silky hair of Cat Eyes. When he was done, he said, “Well, the tunnel is real. Yet, no-one really knows how it works. How could that be? I mean, unless there was some great loss of learning. I don’t know. Perhaps, we can learn from these stories, whether real or not, how to … how to ensure that we do not fall so far again. From what you said, it sounds…it sounds as though the people became sightless and witless. How can the people not see that they are a part of the Great Tree of Life? How can they not hear the song of the bird or the murmur of the stream? How can they not see the beauty of the trees and flowers all around them? How can they not taste the sweetness of honey?” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “That is one of the main question that we — those of us who are studying the books — keep asking ourselves. But when this question is asked, none of us answers. Not yet. Each of us is hoping someone else will explain. But what comes to our ears is only the silence and the cedars sighing in the wind.”  

—————————————

Roar, Ocean, Roar (A poem about the power of cooperation) 

The Only Them that Counts is All of Us

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy (Here begins the continuous trilogy of the Mythical Veritas who value truth, love, and cooperation).

Author Page on Amazon

An index to a proposed Pattern Language for Collaboration & Cooperation 

Life will find a way

Come to the light side

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Dance of Billions

Somewhere a Bird Cries

The Broken Times

Fish have no word for water

Imagine All the People

The Isle of Right

The Not-See Party

Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

22 Wednesday Jul 2026

Posted by in family, fantasy, fiction, leadership, management, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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“Tu-Swift, we are learning so much from the library we uncovered. Just as you came, I was putting the final touches on a translation of a story about Stoned Soup, Would you like to hear it?” 

“Yes! What’s it about, Cat Eyes?” 

Cat Eyes smiled. “Well, I’ll tell you the story and you tell me what you think it means. Here. Come sit beside me.” She patted the rough-hewn bench she sat upon. “You can watch the words as I tell them. How would that be?”

“That,” replied Tu-Swift, “would be wonderful. I love hearing your voice.” He sat beside her and took her hand in his and peered at the runes that he had helped decode. This is the story she read him: 

———————————-

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Stoned Soup

Once upon a time, long ago, there was a village blessed with enough for everyone. The village, named Acirema, was located near ancient beautiful forests of beech and oak. The forests abounded with plentiful game. Long ago, the people of Acirema had cut down part of the forests and turned it into rich farmland capable of producing abundant food. Beyond the forests lay snow-capped mountains. From the mountains, several clear beautiful rivers ran to the plains near the village of the Acirema. 

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These villagers, like most villagers, had developed many customs. Among them was their shared evening feast. Except when the weather was exceptionally bad, the villagers gathered in the evening to share a feast. They built a huge fire beneath a large cauldron. When the water finally began to boil, villagers began to contribute what they had to the community soup. Some brought potatoes and turnips; others brought large yellow squash, Jerusalem artichokes, and bright orange carrots; still others brought nettles, blackberry leaves, and hickory nuts. Others, who had been lucky at hunting or fishing or gathering eggs brought those contributions and added them to the soup. Each time the villagers made this soup, the first ingredient that they added was invariably a clean stone, though no-one knew exactly why. Many simply accepted that this was the proper way to make soup. Some theorized that the stone made it tastier. Others believed it helped the flavors circulate. Some thought it was a sacrifice to the god of the fresh mountain water, the sun, or the spirits of the forests. 

When the soup was ready, everyone partook and everyone was satisfied. After the meal, they would take turns telling stories or reflecting on the events of the day. Sometimes, they would dialogue about why they began their recipe with a stone. 

On occasion, strangers would wander by and they would join in the evening meal. Some of these strangers taught the Acirema new dances or songs or showed them new ways to make things. Some were strangely silent. All of them thanked them for the soup and most continued on their way after a day or two but some liked the village so much that they joined with the Acirema. Those who joined soon found a way to make their own contribution to the village and its soup. Although some harvests were sparse and some flush, the Acirema always had enough to feed everyone in the village. They worked in harmony and enjoyed life.

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One hot summer day, it so happened that a fat old man wobbled unsteadily into their village. Despite his obvious extra folds of fat, he demanded a very large portion of soup. His appetite seemed nearly insatiable. He didn’t say much at his first few evening meals, but he observed carefully.

The Wobbly Man noticed that some people ate more than others. The Wobbly Man noticed that some people were taller than others; that some had blue eyes and some had brown eyes. The Wobbly Man noticed that some villagers put a large quantity of carrots in the soup and others only put in a few nuts. The Wobbly Man noticed that some people were old and some were young. 

Although the Wobbly Man said little during the evening meal for the whole village, he spoke throughout the entire day, at first, only to one at a time. The Wobbly Man spoke to a strong young man thus:

“Well met, my strong young lad! You must be the strongest man I have ever seen! Surely, you are the strongest in the village! Am I right?”

The strong man answered modestly, “I may be.” He shrugged. 

“Of course you are. And, yet, I know that you could be much stronger still. You are not really getting your fair share of the evening soup. Your grandfather eats as much as you do! How is that fair? I’m sure you’re a much better hunter.” 

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“Grandfather? My grandfather no longer walks this earth. Perhaps you saw my father? He often sits next to me.” 

The Wobbly Man acted surprised. “Oh, that old man is your father. I wonder…he doesn’t seem nearly so strong as you do. Well…who knows? But anyway, he certainly eats a lot for his size. And, yet, he isn’t half the hunter you are, I imagine. I don’t really know. I’m just guessing from how little he adds to the soup.” The Wobbly Man smiled.

After a few moments of awkward silence, the strong young man said, “I’m going hunting. Do you know how to hunt? Do you wish to come too?”

The Wobbly Man replied, “Oh, no. I don’t hunt. You go ahead. And don’t pay any attention to what I said. It’s none of my concern. I like to joke a lot. That’s all. It means nothing. Sometimes a maple tree springs from an acorn, you know?” 

The strong man shook his head. “No, that never happens. What are you talking about?” 

The Wobbly Man replied, “No. Perhaps you are right. I’ve never actually seen that either. Well, you go hunting. Happy hunting!” 

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Next, the Wobbly Man spied one of the beautiful young maidens of the tribe. Long silky blond hair framed her smooth skin and her bright blue eyes. He followed her down to a nearby stream where she bathed herself. He watched with pleasure from behind some bushes. At last, she emerged, quite refreshed; she lay on a warm slab of shale to allow the sun to dry her front and back. When he judged she was about to re-robe herself, the Wobbly Man walked by casually placing himself between the young maiden and her robe. 

“Oh! Well met, young maiden. I didn’t realize anyone was here. Nor did I realize it was your custom to go naked in public. I shall join you then and learn more about your ways.” In a flash, he dropped his own clothes in a pile at his feet. 

The young maiden blushed and this excited the Wobbly Man even more; so much so, that his excitement was nearly visible. He strode up to her wondering whether his great weight would be sufficient to force her to do what he wanted regardless of her wishes. 

“Sir, put your own clothes back on and hand me mine! You are a guest here and it will not do well for people to see you naked. They may misunderstand your intentions.”

“Oh, me, oh, my,” said the Wobbly Man. “I’m just having a little fun. Is that such a bad thing? It’s of no concern to me if you prefer other women instead of a handsome guy like me. I’m sure another young lady will be along shortly. Maybe this is where you congregate? Ah, but I’m a stranger. What do I know?” 

As he spoke, the Wobbly Man reclothed himself and sauntered back toward the nearby village. Here, he spied a group of youth having a spear-throwing contest. After he spied a particularly long throw, he spoke up again.

“Nice throw! Back in my village a throw like that would earn you the right to a maiden such as the one lying naked by yon stream.” The Wobbly Man pointed in the direction he had just come. “Even now, she is quite — what is the right word? She is quite desirous of having pleasure with someone. She even begged me to have sex with her. She complained that none of the young men hereabouts were interested in wooing women. A shame really. But what do I know of your customs? But if I were younger and stronger, I wouldn’t wait so long to make my own desires known.” 

The young men looked at each other and left off their spear throwing contest and ran down the path toward the river, each hoping to win the young lady’s heart. 

The Wobbly Man smiled and chuckled to himself. He closed his eyes and imagined all of them forcing themselves on her. At least, he hoped that’s what would happen. If she were broken and exhausted, he would try his own luck again. 

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Now, a new opportunity presented itself and required his attention. The father of the young man he had spoken to earlier was sitting alone and cleaning fish. The Wobbly Man walked over and sat down on a nearby log. “Good afternoon, dear sir. I believe I spoke earlier today with your son. I’m still learning the names of the people here. What is your son’s name again?” 

“Rigel.” 

“Rigel! Rigel! That’s a fine name. And your son seems healthy and strong as well. I must tell you that my own son, named Junior, is every bit as ungrateful. More so. I’m sure they’ll grow out of it. That’s just the way youth are. I wouldn’t worry about it. Speaking of Rigel, where is he? Why isn’t he helping you clean the fish? That seems the least — I mean, it’s none of my business, of course, but it seems as though if he’s going to complain about you getting more of the soup than he gets, he would have a stronger argument if he did more to prepare the soup.”

The man stopped cleaning the fish and looked at the Wobbly Man. “What? Rigel said I eat more than my share?” 

“What? Oh, no! No, no, no, not at all. Not in so many words.” Here, the Wobbly Man paused, tilted his head, and pretended to be thoughtful. He clicked his tongue, leaned closer to the slender old man and whispered in a conspiratorial tone. 

“If you ask me, he should be very grateful that you agreed — you know — to act as his father. Not everyone I know is man enough to do that. Right?” 

The fish cleaner stopped his work again and looked at the Wobbly Man with a frown. “What do you mean, ‘to act as his father.’? I am his father.” 

The Wobbly Man nodded his head up and down vigorously. “Of course you are. Of course you are! You are the man who raised him. I’m sure beneath all that resentment, he has great respect for you. I’m sure he does. Right? You are sure too, right? All that resentment in his tone and so on — that’s just — he’s probably angry at his mother, really.” 

Every day, the villagers of Acirema hunted, fished, gathered food, or worked their farmland. Every day, the villagers made things, observed things, added to the general well-being, the food stores, or the knowledge of the Acirema. Everyone, that is, except for The Wobby Man, who never hunted, never fished, never built or crafted anything with his own two hands.

That is not to say that The Wobbly Man was not busy. He was very busy each and every day. He told the tall people that they should receive more soup because their tall bodies needed it more than short people did. He told short people that they were short because they had not received enough soup. He told blue-eyed people that the brown-eyed people thought blue eyes were a deformity and he told brown-eyed people that the blue-eyed people thought brown eyes was a deformity. The Wobbly Man set husband against wife; he set father against son; he set men against women; he set the elderly against youngsters and he set youngsters against the elderly.

At first, the Acirema remained peaceful and kept to their own ways. But gradually, just as the sand in a river bank eventually becomes sandstone or shale, the people began to mistrust each other. As the elderly began to mistrust the young people, that made the young people suspicious of the old people. 

Day after day, week upon week, month upon month, the Acirema tribe grew ever more suspicious of each other. When the autumn harvest came, many kept back a good proportion of their food for their private consumption. The community soup grew thinner in consistency and lesser in quantity. The fire needed not to be so large. People often ate in silence. Instead of sitting around the fire sharing songs and stories, the people retired to their own dwellings. When the cold winds of autumn turned icy, they stopped bothering to make soup at all, at least as a group.  

The Wobbly Man had left. No-one seemed to have noticed exactly when he left. He did not tell them that he was going, nor did he share why he was going, nor where. No-one noticed him walk away from the Acirema, turn back and look from afar upon the village of Acirema and smile a broad grin. His last words to the Acirema, he muttered far out of earshot of the Acirema. 

He simply said, “Fools!” 

———————————-

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Fields

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Essays on America: A lot is not a little

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Math Class: Who are you?

Author Page on Amazon