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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: learning

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

21 Wednesday Sep 2022

Posted by petersironwood in psychology

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Tags

dogs, games, instinct, learning, life, pets, psychology, Puppy, sports, story, truth

I’ve been playing a sort of “ball chase” +  soccer with our new puppy, Sadie. She’s extremely good at it, IMHO. She instinctively chases a ball & brings it back. I’ve reinforced it but it would be a stretch to say “I trained her to do that.” I sort of expect most dogs to view this as a game not completely unlike chasing a bird or rabbit & bringing it back. 

The more interesting part came when I combined it with soccer. She learned (?) to judge carom shots off the baseboard and half closed doors. She tries to stop a ball before it hits the wall but judges that if she can’t stop it directly, she can stop the rebound. That she even tries to stop it is interesting. That also seemed “natural.” I probably reinforced her differentially, but again, it would be giving me far too much credit to say I trained her to “defend” against having the ball go past her. 

I begin a few weeks ago to play with two balls at once. This makes it more challenging for me not to break my neck as well as Sadie. What I find interesting is that she immediately tries to hoard or herd; i.e., control, both balls. She has tried picking up two in her mouth at once, but she can’t manage it. So, she holds one ball in her mouth and “corrals” the other between her front paws. When she gets bored, she relents and lets me throw or roll or kick the balls. 

I now sometimes use three balls at once. (I’ll let you know which hospital for flowers). Actually, I’m careful, but Sadie is sudden in her movements. Anyway, once I put a ball “in play”, I usually control or kick it with my foot. Sadie imitates (!?) me in this. She “controls” a ball by putting one of her front paws on it and she also pushes the ball with her paw, though she did try “nosing it” once but I think she found it uncomfortable since she shook her head and reverted to using her front paws. 

On some occasions, I “grab” a ball with the bottom of my foot and move it slowly back and forth and feign kicking one way and then kick another way which routinely makes Sadie growl as she scampers after the ball. There’s something else. The slow movement followed by quick movement energizers her more in her quest for the ball than if I simply & directly hit it. 

These types of patterns are found in human sports around the globe. Did they co-evolve with dog play? I’ve seen videos of many species of mammal playing “soccer.” From the video alone though, I have no idea how spontaneous the play is. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s pretty spontaneous. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Soccer, American Football, hockey, rugby, field hockey, and basketball share this notion of trying to “make a goal” by getting past the defenders. In every one of these games, there is also the notion of “fake” or “feint.” It feels as though Sadie and I, if not reading from the same script exactly, both of us have the same “playbook” of things that are fun in sports. 

On a not completely unrelated topic, I am wondering whether any other new dog “owners” have noticed that their own sense of smell has been enhanced since sharing lives with a puppy. Perhaps it is not so much enhanced as that I pay more attention to it than I did a few short months ago. She goes sniffing and I go wondering for the most part, what it is she’s sniffing on about. 

To some extent, it’s the same with sounds. I’m typically a pretty visual person and when I walk alone outdoors, I mainly noticed what I see. When walking with Sadie, however, she reacts to many sounds that I would ignore. I know what it is and give it a name and then reassure her that it’s okay; that trucks and cars and airplanes and helicopters are okay, at least in the distance.



I sure hope I’m right.

The Walkabout Diaries 

The Walkabout Diaries

The Walkabout Diaries

The Walkabout Diaries

The Walkabout Diaries

The Walkabout Diaries

Sonnet for Sadie

Shadows Sadie

Sadie is a Thief!

A Cat’s a Cat That’s that

A suddenly springing something 

Math Class: Who are you?

Life is a Dance

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Dance of Billions 

Cedars Sighing in the Wind

14 Wednesday Jul 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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cooperation, ethics, fiction, leadership, learning, legend, myth, parable, Veritas

Cedars Sighing in the Wind

Photo by Tomas Balogh on Pexels.com

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 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 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 

Who’s Got a Loose Wire?

12 Wednesday May 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

fiction, insight, learning, psychology, story, stubbornness

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I was trained as a scientist. I believe in science. I believe that doing laboratory experiments about how we perceive, learn, decide, and solve problems has merit and applicability to the real world. One of the things I studied in the laboratory was perceptual adaptation. So, I had first-hand experience conducting experiments on perceptual adaptation. Please keep that in mind as you read this short story. 

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Many years ago, I drove to IBM Research five days of the week. It was a beautiful drive among Westchester reservoirs and at one point, my journey took me through an “erector set bridge” — you know the kind — they literally look to be made from a giant erector set. At the time, I was driving a sky blue Chevy with only an AM radio for entertainment. I typically listened to Imus in the morning on the way into work each day. AM radio being what it is, and steel erector set bridges being what they are, each time I drove through the metal bridge, the sound volume went down quite noticeably until I emerged on the other side. I did this for years. 

At some point, I decided I would treat myself to an entertainment upgrade. I had never bought anything like this and I was somewhat nervous that I might be “taken” or that the installation would be shoddy. 

I had a tape deck and AM/FM radio installed as well as stereo speakers. To me, it seemed marginally too luxurious, but I was really looking forward to some higher quality music and listening to books on tape. (I didn’t even know about NPR or WBAI at that point). I felt quite happy and contented as I drove to work that first day with my new tape deck. I had it playing some of my favorite and most spirited music. A perfect way to begin the workweek! 

Photo by Gabriel Santos Fotografia on Pexels.com

All at once, the sound volume went way up! And, then, a few moments later, it went back down again. My first thought was along these lines: “Damn! There must be a loose wire in the thing. Crap, now I’ve got to spend hours trying to straighten this out and argue about the bill. Yech. 

Wait a minute! That was the bridge! I just perceived the sound to be louder because I so strongly expected it to be softer!

OK. But why the delay? Why didn’t it immediately occur to me as my first explanation? I knew that I was using my ear brain system to perceive the sound. I knew that expectation impacts experience. I knew I had spent years driving through the bridge and having the sound level go down. I believe in science, I participated in the visual analogue of such a phenomenon myself. 

One explanation is age of learning. I learned about how people think and solve problems from watching my own family interact and listening to radio. Later, that was supplemented by watching television, and to a lesser extent movies. I had at least a decade of indoctrination of “finding who is at fault” and “if I perceive it, it must be true!” Before I ever heard of the “scientific method.” 

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Is it possible that those thought-patterns still influenced my initial takes on how to solve a problem? Is it feasible that they do not? In the instance related above, my “scientific and professional training” did come into play and overcome my initial impression. Indeed, the second hypothesis leap-frogged way ahead of the “loose wire” theory as the most plausible explanation.

Note too that not only did the “loose wire” theory initially come to the fore; it was embellished with a guilty party! Even if there were a loose wire, it wouldn’t necessarily mean that the person who installed it had done a bad job. 

I had a job for awhile as a projectionist, and I did make a few mistakes. But it also happened more than once that I was “blamed” for a film breaking when the real reason was not bad threading but the fact that the film had been spliced a hundred times! Or, I would be given a  rotary slide tray by the lecturer and one of the slides would be out of order. That’s my fault? Was I supposed to get an advanced copy of the presentation and critique it? No-one mentioned that as part of the job description. But there it is: the tendency to blame someone who may or may not be actually to blame. I have been on the receiving end. I suspect everyone has. Yet, my mind jumped to the same nonsense. 

Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

Even if you’ve never been trained in science, you’ve almost undoubtedly had many experiences that show that your perceptions of reality are not necessarily reality. You’ve likely jumped to conclusions and later found out you were wrong. A good way to remind us all of this is based on Native American wisdom called “The Iroquois Rule of Six.” 

In the case of the little vignette I shared above, I was driving to work. It took place before the invention of “smart phones” so even if I had been tempted to pull over and give that stereo installer a “piece of my mind” I had no feasible way to do it. 

Thank goodness. 

————————————————

The Iroquois Rule of Six

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

To Be or Not to Be

I Can’t be Bothered

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: What about the butter dish?

Essays on America: The Update Problem

————————————————

The Psychology of Change: Distraction

25 Sunday Apr 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

change, distraction, learning, psychology

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Distraction has many impacts, but one, at least in my experience, is that it greatly slows down learning to adapt. 

Here is an example from much earlier in my life, (so you’ll know it’s not primarily an age effect). 

One of my college part-time jobs was as an A/V assistant. It was actually a very cool job, because I got to travel all over the University and show movies or slides in classes in architecture, collagen, aging, genetics, sociology, Shakespeare, etc. I would typically arrive at work and get a “kit” which was basically a small suitcase with whatever A/V equipment was required for a particular gig. On the outside, the supervisor had used a magic marker to write on a piece of masking tape a building number, a room number, and the time I was to be there. Depending on the location, it could take anywhere from 5 to 25 minutes for me to get to a particular location, if I was already familiar with the room. There were maps on campus to show where all the buildings were, but once inside, signage varied tremendously from building to building. Some buildings were laid out logically and some had lots of signage. Some had both. Some had neither. 

When I went to a new location, there were many times I came to T-shaped intersection and had to make a “blind” choice as to which hall led to my assigned room. If, say, I turned right, I might look at the numbers on various classrooms and determine that I had gone the wrong way so I’d turn around and get to the assigned room. What’s interesting is what happened the second time I went to that same room. You might think I would turn left because, after all, a week earlier, I had discovered that I needed a left turn to efficiently reach my goal. If someone had asked me where the room was, I would have known without a doubt. But in the actual moment, that’s not what I did.

Photo by Javon Swaby on Pexels.com



What I actually did when I reached the choice point was turn right, just as I had initially done. I would take a few steps down the wrong hallway and wake up to the fact that I was going the wrong way. And what do you suppose happened the third time I reached that decision point? Would I turn to the left in a nice smooth way? No. I would still turn right. I would begin to take a step to the right and then stop dead in my tracks and turn to the left.

Why had it taken me three tries to learn instead of just once? You may think, “Oh, that’s just the way people are.” I think it would be closer to the truth to say, “Oh, that’s just the way we people are.” That is to say, the culture of hyper-competitiveness keeps most of us, certainly including me, pre-occupied most of our waking hours. Walking on the reasonably well-lit regular corridors of a university campus did not require my full attention. So, my mind was always churning on about something else when I came to the decision point. 

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Of course, that’s just one example. There are many others. I learned at an early age to multi-task. Sometimes, that may be useful to me just as your multi-tasking is sometimes useful to you. But there is at least one important downside. 

You’re being in a constant state of busy-ness makes it harder for you to notice that you need to learn something new and it makes it harder to do something even if you do see the need. If you come to a choice point and make the wrong choice, in many cases, you can figure that out fairly easily — if you’re paying attention. If you cut yourself off from what is really happening, learning, change, adaptation — it all becomes much harder. You can cut yourself off in many ways: alcohol, drugs, being a workaholic — but my favorite is distraction. 

While distraction has it’s pros and cons for me, and likely for you, the constant busy-ness is wonderful for business. They will sell you anything and everything to distract you. But here’s a fun thing to do. 

Take a break.

Concentrate on one thing at a time.

Try it for an hour.

Try it for a day.

Do you really get less done? Do you have more pleasure or less? Do you learn more quickly or more slowly? 

————————————-

Thoughts on gratitude and mindfulness: Corn on the Cob

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

Essays on America: Wednesday 

Essays on America: Happy Talk Lies

Essays on America: The Update Problem 

How your choices can even influence evolution: Ripples

On Seeing Beyond the Headlines: The Jewels of November 

Psychology of Change: Growth, Decay, and Chrysalis.

31 Wednesday Mar 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

awarenewss, change, GreenNewDeal, learning, metamorphosis, psychology

Perhaps the “Psychology of Change” is a label that hides too much variation in types to reveal any common patterns. Let me explain. 

First of all, what “works” or what “predicts” change in such diverse situations as: 

  1. One imposed from without by force (as prison inmates, say;) 
  2. Acquired as a child through acceptance of the cultural norms (as is normal);
  3. Enlightenment in an elderly adult through contact with a child (as in Silas Marner, Finding Forrester or Ana).

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May well have nothing to do with one another. In addition, the speed of change, and even the acceleration of change, and, yes, possibly even the jerk might have an impact on what happens. Again, consider a few examples.

You are the major breadwinner (by being a bread maker) in your family of four. You are moderately “well off” financially but your business has been going steadily down for the last five years. You could relocate but you all love the private school your kids go to. Finally, your youngest is a senior, so next year, you will relocate to a part of your nation that is growing. 

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This is no doubt a fairly large change. But, it is also moderately slow. And, not only is it slow; there is only moderate if any acceleration. You will naturally see more details that need to be attended to as the date creeps closer. And, there will be some surprises. But for the most part, the speed and predictability of the change is within your capacity. If you didn’t perceive it to be so, you wouldn’t have decided on the move. 

Now, let’s change things just a bit. Same family of four. Same worsening of conditions. Only now, before your youngest even starts her senior year, COVID 19 strikes. Your business is no longer slowly shrinking. It plummets to the ground. Some people were predicting this might happen months ago, but you chose to listen to the people who said it would all go away. But now is now. You are experiencing much faster and less predictable change. Not only that; the potential magnitude of the change is much greater. Before, you realized it would take time to build your business back up in a new location. But now? You might not even have the wherewithal to survive the next six months, let alone move. And when? And to where? You had a spot all picked out in one of the more trendy and affluent suburbs in Silicon Valley. But now? It’s a hotbed of COVID!

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Are the same things that are important in situation one above the same things that are important in situation two? 

Now, let’s add just a little more to the scenario, but without the COVID19.

As before, you are the major breadwinner (by being a bread maker) in your family of four. You are moderately “well off” financially but your business has been going steadily down for the last five years. You could relocate but you all love the private school your kids go to. Finally, your youngest is a senior, so next year, you will relocate to a part of your nation that is growing. You are on your way to your bakery and the sky grows dark. You worry that it will be pouring down rain just as you make the 50 yard dash to the front door of your bakery.

You need not have worried because the Class Five tornado delivered the front door to a spot only two feet from your normal parking spot. That front door was the largest remaining piece of what had been your grocery store. Your house was also destroyed. And, so was the private school. Luckily, your youngest was unharmed. Not so luckily, your other child and your spouse were killed in the storm along with 73 others in the area. 

We all have the intuition that this person will make the most profound changes, but in what way? Of course, nearly anyone would be in complete shock for a time and not know what to do. But then what? It seems equally likely that the person would:

A. Decide that life is absurd and it’s out to destroy you and the only way to protect yourself is drink like a fish. And, the child’s better off somewhere else.

B. Decide that life is absurd and it’s out to destroy you and the only way to protect yourself is to never love again.  And, the child’s better off somewhere else.

Of course, A and B are not mutually exclusive. They often go together.

C. You decide that life may end at any time and that the most important thing in life is to enjoy every moment. And, that means, among other things, spending a lot of time with your remaining family & friends. 

D. You decide that service to others is the most important thing in life and you and your child both eventually become involved in a UN project to show people how to bake more nutritious bread.



There are endless possibilities of course. And, they are not fixed outcomes. The person may decide that life may end at any time and that the most important thing in life is to enjoy every moment — and to spend time with friends and then — three years later —- take path A or D instead. 

As someone trained in “Experimental Psychology,” my disciplinary reflex is to try to identify parameters and try to relate conditions of change to results in terms of outcome as a function of those parameters. 

Perhaps, however, a better approach is more like the Periodic Table. Rather than an “infinite variety”, it might be true that most cases fall into one of several dozen categories. Each category is basically a theme or premise for a story which we relate to precisely because they are common “types” of change. 

Examples might include:

 “Situation slowly deteriorates and protagonist makes adjustment.” 


“A natural disaster destroys much (or all) of what the protagonist loves and they must create a whole new life.” 

“Situation slowly deteriorates, and in turn, the protagonist engages in ever more self-destructive behavior, making the situation worse and eventually resulting in disaster.”

“Situation slowly deteriorates, and in turn, the protagonist engages in ever more self-destructive behavior, making the situation worse and eventually resulting in — enlightenment followed by a complete turn-around.” 

And so on. 

—————————————————-

Essays on America: Wednesday 

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

The Update Problem 

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

A Wildly Webbed World

11 Saturday Apr 2020

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

activity, computer, fun, Internet, knowledge, learning, poem, poetry, recreation, surfing, web

black cat holding persons arm

Photo by Ruca Souza on Pexels.com

I type —
Hey! Clatter-clatter keyboard of ascii: 
Chatter chatter; chat me up and down the great grey scales of my
Wide webbed world!
Hey clatter, clatter keyboard of ask me: 
Look at me and truly see I’m rainbow-swirled.
Share my image morphed; visualize my visage;
Stay and portray me; play me; slay me.
Vibrate my thought through the slick copper wire
Send my second self through the tiny fibers of fine desire
Do deadly dragons and flagons and flames and fire!

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I think —
Hey! Let me find and remind our larger mind
Of who we may yet — build to become:
A race of not so numb and not so dumb,
Plumbing instead to the very depths of distant stars,
And no less, the innermost realms of mirth and Mars,
Till the mystic magic oneness of math and rhyme
Manifests so patently, so patiently, so perfectly in mime.
Find the micro-time to sweep my musical spheres and spears
The tears and cares of play and work no longer clash;
Till micro-cash flows like water through all the all-time
Help-hungry waiting wings of the world-wide watersplash;
Till ripples trip tugboats of data, mined from far fields,
Crash breaker-wave upon analyses and syntheses and shields.

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I see —
Strangely dreaming wrecks of old preconceptions shatter,
Clatter to the floor, rearrange, derange themselves re-making,
Tattered by the shreds of cyberworlds waking, shaking
Our millenial group-sleep of not seeing all the wide over-tried
Over-tired, over-mired, over in the four-leaf field of clover spied
World around surround of miracle of sight and sound
From air to ground, and sea to land, and rainbow band and bound.

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I hear —
Instruments that sing as they soar, tinkle, roar and storm;
Slap each other silly, go dancing willy-nilly; form and reform
Glancing blows and prancing foes and smiling awhile,
Rising for a virtual ever-upward sky-high mile,
Suspended, then — falling for eternity below the lowest low,
Dropping stone-like into so slow, slow, no-go flow.

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Reloaded and rebooted, I readily roam —
Freely through city and pity and pious and pi,
Splash through wavelets and warrants and warriors and why,
Surf terrier and harrier and hairless and house
Matrices of miracles, at the merest touch of my magic mouse!

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Author Page on Amazon

Essays on America: The Temperature Gauge 

Essays on America: A Once-Baked Potato

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: Rejecting Adulthood

Essays on America: The Game

Essays on America: Ice

Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Fields

Wartime Playtime

21 Friday Feb 2020

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Feedback, games, innovation, learning, legends, myths, truth, vicious cycle, war, weapons

Tu-Swift laughed. 

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He had mastered juggling four sacks, or four rocks and had been working all morning on five, but with little success. Sooz shook her head and chuckled good-naturedly. “Don’t give up, Tu-Swift. You’ll get there.” Then, after a pause, she added, “Though you may be an old man with a long white beard.” 

“What? You’ll pay for that!” He began to chase her around the training space. Being lighter, Sooz could turn more quickly. After a few moments, Cat Eyes appeared. Tu-Swift called out, “Help me catch this fox! I can’t turn fast enough!” 

Cat Eyes laughed as well. With a serious note in her voice, she added, “You shouldn’t be trying to turn fast. Let your knee heal, would you?” 

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Tu-Swift’s face darkened for a moment. The ground around them also grew dark as a passing cloud momentarily blocked the sun. He wondered briefly whether he would ever really regain his speed and mobility. Then, just as the ground grew sunny again, so did his face. Time would tell. Meantime…

Just then, he heard the deep voice of Jaccim. He was trying, but largely failing, to speak Veritas. With the help of Cat Eyes, he eventually made himself clear. He had asked why they were playing when there was likely to be a war which they should all be preparing for. They had been “marked” for war. This was no time for juggling nonsense or for laughing. 

Tu-Swift replied, “Hello, Jaccim. I see you brought your own clouds with you.” 

Sooz and Cat Eyes both laughed, though in a friendly way. Tu-Swift continued, “Jaccim, this is the way of the Veritas. Don’t you ever play?” 

Jaccim’s head snapped back and he frowned. He spoke and Cat Eyes translated. “Me? Certainly not! Play is for small children. Not someone your age. All of you should be preparing for war. It is serious.” 

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Many Paths who strode into the training area overheard the last part of the translated conversation. She smiled at all of them and supplemented her Veritas with sign language so that Jaccim would directly understand as much as possible. “You are right. It is serious. This is why we play. We need weapons. New weapons. Weapons that no-one will suspect. That is why  we watch and listen to those whose minds are like water flooding over new plains. They will go ways that we cannot foresee. Nor can others. What shall we care who wins a war if life holds no joy? Every moment now is precious. This is what the Veritas always teach. But now that we may be on the brink of destruction, joy is more important than ever.” 

Jaccim frowned and answered with a mixture of sign language and broken Veritas. “What may be gained by juggling bags or rocks? It is foolish.”

Many Paths smiled at Tu-Swift. She put her hand into a fold of her tunic and brought out a knife and casually tossed it to Tu-Swift. She quickly threw him two more. He easily caught all three and began juggling the three knives. 

Jaccim opened his mouth to speak, but before he could formulate his answer in the tongue of the Veritas, he heard three odd sounds a little like a horse’s whinny and a little like a large rock hitting a tree trunk. He frowned and then his mouth dropped open farther as he saw all three knives sticking out of three nearby tree trunks. Tu-Swift had thrown all three underhand and hard into three targets. Jaccim tried to speak but nothing came out. It wasn’t that he did not know the Veritas words for what he wanted to say. There were no words. Even a sensible language like ROI could not help him. Tu-Swift, meanwhile, calmly walked over and wiggled each of the knives out and handed them back to Many Paths. 

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She smiled at Tu-Swift and continued out of the clearing. As she reached the edge she looked back over her shoulder and said, “Keep up the good work.” 

Jaccim understood her words but not her thinking. She was supposed to be the leader. Yet she spoke of joy and play even though they would likely soon be at war. It made no sense, thought Jaccim. It’s what comes, he thought, of having a woman as leader. We would not have a woman as leader. Not the ROI. Nor would the Z-Lotz. It’s all foolishness. As the Veritas will soon discover for themselves. How had these people defeated the ROI and destroyed his village? 

Tu-Swift called out, “Many Paths! Have you a moment? I wish to show you something else!” 

Many Paths turned back, “I am on my way to meet up with Shadow Walker but I can see what else you have first.” 

Tu-Swift glanced at Sooz and once he had caught her eye, gestured over toward a contraption they had constructed at the end of the training compound. Two vines were suspended from a strong overhanging branch. The vines looped through a thick wooden plank which lay parallel to the ground. Sooz lifted a leg over the plank coquettishly as she smiled at Tu-Swift. He walked around behind her and pushed. He found pushing her surprisingly pleasurable and his cheeks flushed. 

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Sooz swung forward and then arced back toward Tu-Swift. Just as she stopped, he pushed her again. Each time, he pushed at just the right time and she swung higher and higher. After a score of pushes, he changed the timing so that he pushed against her momentum and gradually slowed her to a stop. 

Jaccim shook his head. He could see no reason for such frivolity. 

Tu-Swift walked over to Many Paths. “We had been swinging on a single vine and Sooz thought this would work — and it did. But the thing we really wanted to show you is this. He walked over to a small pile of straps made of softened hide. He put a stone in a small, broad but shallow pit in the strap. He motioned for the others to stand behind a nearby tree and peek out. He put both ends of the strap in his hand and began whirling it around his head. He suddenly let go of one end and the stone went flying. It thunked loudly into one of the small, dead pine trunks that had been partly buried in the ground. Many Paths led the others over to see the result. The stone lay buried in the trunk. She nodded. “Nice,” she said. 

Many Paths nodded again. “Yes. This is good. You have an almost endless supply of stones. Imagine these flying into an army from many directions at once. It will be hard to defend against.” Many Paths smiled again at Tu-Swift and set off to meet up with Shadow Walker. 

As Many Paths left the clearing, she ducked under an overhanging branch of Witch Hazel and spoke aloud, “Thank you for your medicine.” She walked down a sweetly curving path toward a small spring. Three pink flowers, Lady Slippers, poked their heads through the dark greenery. She began thinking about the sedation caused by Lady Slippers and recalled what She Who Saves Many Lives had said. “After the sedation wears off, one may be nervous and high strung for a time.” Many Paths had only tried it twice and she experienced exactly what the elder had described both times. It had felt a lot like the way that the roots of Sweet Flag made her feel. But after the effects of Sweet Flag wore off, it made her feel tired and groggy. Odd, she thought. 

She chuckled at the swinging seat that Tu-Swift and Sooz had created though she couldn’t see how that led to the sling weapon he had shown her. It all had to do with the timings of the pushes, she reminded herself. Suddenly, many paths stopped. 

She thought of the swing, the pushes, the Lady Slippers, and the Sweet Flag. What if… what if I pushed with a little Lady Slipper and then… just when it began to wear off, I pulled with some Sweet Flag…a person might become very nervous and want more Lady Slipper… what would happen if they were pushed and pulled higher and higher? I wouldn’t poison the person exactly. Would it tear the body apart? Tearing the people apart with such pushes seemed to be what was indicated in the strange tales scribed into the sheaf of leaves that had been discovered by Lion Slayer and Eagle Eyes. Could that really happen? Was there a way to tear apart the Z-Lotz? Was there a way to tear apart the Veritas? And, if so, how could it be prevented? 

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———————————————-

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Cancer Always Loses in the End

12 Wednesday Feb 2020

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

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

cancer, Corruption, Dictatorship, environment, fascism, Hitler, learning, Mussolini, pollution, Rule of Law

I would have to suppose that 45’s supporters are very happy tonight. The President tweeted that his friend Roger Stone had been treated unfairly and should get a lighter sentence. Roger Stone has been at “dirty tricks” his entire career. (This man was convicted in court. He not only lied under oath and failed to keep his promise not to comment on the case but even sought to intimidate other witnesses). 

But #45 tweets to let him off easy and Bill Barr demands it. Four long-time competent prosecutors quit the case. Yay! A win for #45! 

That’s a win for #45 in precisely the same way that it’s a “win for a cancer cell” who manages to hide from surgery or recover from chemotherapy. Make no mistake. Whatever lies you have chosen to believe about #45, he is not on your payroll. Just as cancer cells are capable of misleading and misdirecting the body’s immune system from destroying them, so too #45 has used, among other things, Fox News, pep rallies, lies, and Russian bot accounts and fake news propagation through social media to convince the immune system of the country to treat him as a legitimate member of society. A cancer cell is not a legitimate member of your body. #45 is not a legitimate politician. He doesn’t do a brilliant job of competing; he does a brilliant job of cheating. 

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Cancer though? Cancer is stupid. Sometimes, the immune system is not fooled or the surgery works or the radiation works or the chemo works and the rogue liver cell dies along with all its neighbors. Or, cancer succeeds and produces more and more cancer cells. Cancer will eventually kill its host body. And, then it dies anyway. If had kept being a decently functioning liver cell, it would have been a part of the tree of life that extends and grows. 

Instead, that liver cell’s overblown sense of self-importance led it to stop functioning as a liver cell and instead simply spend its time sucking all the resources possible to itself and grow without bound. 

As you know, if you have cancer in any part of your body, there’s a chance that it will spread to other parts and, if unchecked, it will spread to every part. 

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Photo by Leonid Danilov on Pexels.com

It isn’t just government that grows corrupt when the government is corrupt. It’s every organ of the society. You like watching the Academy Awards? Will it be more fun when you know that the “Best Picture Award” (and all the others) will be determined by Putin? Will it be more fun when the “Best Pictures” aren’t even made because they don’t win the favor of the “National Cultural Purity Board.” 

Will you enjoy the Super Bowl, or the World Series or the Kentucky Derby when the outcome is determined ahead of time by politicians? Don’t you think that the managers will work as hard? Will the officials care as much about the accuracy of their calls? Will the athletes train as hard or try as hard? 

Will technologists and industrialists work hard and think hard to improve products and customer service? Why? What’s the point? The brands that will succeed are the ones that are favored by the most powerful. 

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Corruption, like cancer, spreads everywhere. At some point, the dysfunction grows so large that the body politic dies. The society devolves into Civil War, anarchy, or it falls like a ripe plum into the waiting hand of the man who got #45 Putin office.

Will you even remember what it was like to taste an organic, vine-ripened tomato, or have a free & fair election, or a fair athletic contest, or a fair trial, or trust in the police to help you when you’re in trouble? 

Cancer doesn’t care. It feels good. For awhile. It gets a richer blood supply than it used to! It can grow faster! Whoopee! But — of course — it only lasts for awhile. The tumor can’t go hunting and gathering. The tumor can’t prepare a meal or even digest the meal. Cancer needs the body for its survival — but it imagines it doesn’t and thereby kills itself. 

Some people treat everything as a zero sum game. In life, however, many situations are win/win scenarios. Cancer, however, is not a “win/win” or a zero sum game. It’s a lose/lose situation. The cancer always dies and sometimes so does its victim. But even if the body recovers, the body is harmed, often irreparably. 

So, too, corruption is a lose/lose scenario. Rigged horse races lead to hurting horses, jockeys, and fans. Those who “control” the outcome lose too. They become greedy and rig more and more until no-one has any interest any more. 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Cancer is stupid. 


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Jaccim Fails to Explain

30 Thursday Jan 2020

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Photo by Rolandas Augutis on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

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

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Photo by Kris Schulze on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Drawing by Pierce Morgan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Author Page on Amazon

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Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration 

 

Tu-Swift Tells his Tale

17 Friday Jan 2020

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

laguage, learning, legends, myths, stories, symbols, tales, Veritas

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After the feast, Many Paths rose to speak, “On behalf of the whole tribe, and on behalf of this woman who now speaks as well, I thank you, Shadow Walker, for finding Tu-Swift and returning him to me … to us. There is much that we would hear from you as to how this came about. We also would like to hear from Tu-Swift. As the elder, Shadow Walker, would you care to begin your tale?”

Shadow Walker rose, “Thank you, Many Paths. I will tell my tale in due course. Having already heard from Tu-Swift and the others, I believe that my own tale, though a useful one for us to consider, is not the first one that the tribe must hear. I believe we should first hear from Tu-Swift  and then from Cat Eyes. I can tell my small tale last.” 

Shadow Walker had discussed this with Tu-Swift who had reluctantly agreed. Tu-Swift, arose and Many Paths noted that as he did so, he braced himself strongly against the rough-hewn wooden table. The cheeks of Tu-Swift glowed with the red of the post-fire sunsets as he began his tale. Soon, however, he found himself “inside” the tale he was telling and his self-consciousness disappeared. A natural born storyteller, Tu-Swift illustrated his tale with sound effects, gestures, and facial expressions. Apart from babes in arms, the entire tribe, children and elders included, followed with rapt attention and respectful silence. 

Tu-Swift recounted his initial abduction, his confusion, his despair, his meeting with Day-Nah, their work with the horses, how Jaccim had been the gentlest of the three overseers, both with the boys and with the horses. He described how he had sabotaged some of the weapons of the ROI and made it easy for the horses to escape. As he told his part, he glanced at Jaccim, whose eyes widened and whose jaw dropped open. He had no idea that Tu-Swift had played any part at all in the destruction of the ROI village. 

close up photography of burning woods

Photo by Tim Erben on Pexels.com

Tu-Swift went on to describe his joy at being reunited with other Veritas and their being attacked yet again with flaming arrows. He described his terrifying run to avoid the flames and the sudden stab of pain that wrecked his knee. He described his long, painful hobble back to the village in hopes of finding food in the burned forest, his discovery of the sword which he held aloft dramatically. Tu-Swift’s face exploded into a large grin as he told of his second re-uniting with Shadow Walker and the Wolf Pups. The Veritas gasped as one when he told of the harrowing flume ride. 

The Veritas learned at a young age to be respectful while someone told a tale. So, tonight, they said little or nothing — until Tu-Swift came to his last dream and as he told of his “decoding” of “Sooz” in the dream, he beamed at her. Now it was her turn to carminize and the others smiled at her. But as Tu-Swift began to explain his understanding of the game and its symbols, the tribe began to murmur restively. Tu-Swift had meant this revelation to be the exciting climax to his tale, but as he looked out among the Veritas, he saw understanding dawn quickly only on the faces of Many Paths, She Who Saved Many Lives, and Eagle Eyes. The eyes of those three grew wide with surprise and delight. Most of the Veritas, however frowned, shook their heads, and muttered below their breath to someone nearby. 

The frowns most of them wore were reinforced as they looked to one another. Now, the contagion of doubt even spread back to Tu-Swift himself who also frowned. He looked at Many Paths for reassurance. Tu-Swift’s nicely told tale ended anti-climatically as he mumbled something about that being the end of his tale and sat back down, again using the edge of the table as support. 

Many Paths quickly stood and spoke. Her mind raced with the astounding possibilities opened up by Tu-Swift’s revelation, and the possible uses of such symbols, but she reigned her mind back to the here and now. What this moment needed was to re-establish the unity in the tribe that came from shared experience. As she looked about her she saw that only a few among her people understood what Tu-Swift had said. 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths used her strongest voice to speak to her people. “Tu-Swift, thank you for sharing your tale. I am eager to learn what Cat Eyes and Shadow Walker have to say, as I am sure the rest of the tribe is as well, but before we get to that, please indulge a few questions, for I am not sure I fully understand what you meant about these symbols. We have symbols for people and for other things. But you are saying that this is a different kind of language. Many of the tribes understand sign language which is common among us. But that sign language is limited. We understand each other when we are face to face.

“The language you speak of,” she continued, “is different. You claim there is a symbol for each sound — as in your example of your good friend Sooz. The “s” sound of “sooz” is shown by the stick figure representation of our sign language for “snake.” Then, the “ooo” sound is shown by the stick figure representing our sign language for “owl” who often makes the “ooo” sound. Last, the “zzz” sound of “Sooz” is shown by the stick figure of someone making our sign language for “buzzing bee.” So, such a language can cause one to think of a long sequence of words just as they would be spoken aloud. Is that right? Can this be so, Tu-Swift?” 

Tu-Swift swallowed hard. He did not enjoy being put on the spot again. What had seemed so obvious to him, was apparently not so easy for others to grasp. He bit his lip. Through the fog of his embarrassment, he realized that Many Paths understood perfectly. She was helping the many of the Veritas understand that which was already understood by the few. Tu-Swift stood again, and nodded. “Exactly so, sister. You will hear next the tale of Cat Eyes who believes that there are complete stories made with such symbols and that those who understand such language can “hear” a story in the ears of their imagination. Maybe it will become clearer if you hear her story now.” Tu-Swift sat down, but to the surprise of Many Paths, Hudah Salah arose and spoke. 

Many Paths recognized her to speak. Many Paths thought to herself how much she had changed since she first came to live with the Veritas. Then, she would never have risen to speak on her own but would silently support with her expressions, manner, and short utterances that which her husband Lion Slayer had already said. Now, however, she showed no hesitation to speak. 

“Lion Slayer likely knows more of this than I do, but among our people there is a legend of such a language. Near the southern edge of the desert where we dwell, there is a place we call, “The Desert of the Desert” because nothing grows there. Only a few have ventured there for everyone who does so returns sick. But more than one such have told of odd symbols written there on very large rocks. Our legends say that such stones speak to those who can listen to them properly. None of those who visited there heard the stones speak. But now, I have to wonder whether those symbols are cousins to the ones that the ROI use.” Hudah Salah sat and Lion Slayer stood quickly adding, “It is just as Hudah Salah says. Such symbols may be dangerous. For, as Hudah Salah says, everyone who goes to hear these stones speak returns ill but none of those who have returned heard the rocks say anything beyond the windy whispers of the desert night breezes.” 

sand storm and rock formation

Photo by Noelle Otto on Pexels.com

A buzz of murmurs began among the Veritas, and Many Paths recognized Cat Eyes. “Let me begin my tale. First, I thank Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift for rescuing me and I thank all of you for welcoming me back to my tribe. For I too am of the Veritas.” As Cat Eyes looked among the Veritas, she could see more uncertainty and confusion. “Let me begin my tale with a reassurance however. I lived among both the Z-Lotz and the ROI and saw many people, including children, using and playing with the symbols that Tu-Swift spoke of. None of these became ill. Certainly, no-one among either of those tribes believes that such symbols cause illness. I suspect it may be the extreme dryness or heat of a place where nothing grows that causes the illness. Or, perhaps those symbols are different. But these symbols I have carried myself for years and not gotten ill. I now believe that these symbols allow the ROI and the Z-Lotz to plan and plot and tell tales across great distances and across many summers though I did not realize it at the time I lived among them. I have thought about it more and more after Tu-Swift’s revelation.” To illustrate her point, she held aloft one of the matts of symbols and let it unfold as she held it in her hand. She lightly brushed her hand over the symbols. 

“This is not painful,” Cat Eyes continued, “and does not cause illness or I would be long dead for I have kept these hidden on my person or very near for years. Some of the richest among the Z-Lotz have a room where their children play and many of these kinds of matts are spread on the floor. The walls of these rooms are stacked with many sheaves of such symbols. They cause no harm that I could discern, nor the Z-Lotz who had their children play there.” 

Eagle Eyes held something aloft, “Sheaves like these?” she questioned. 

Many Paths worried that the clear telling of the tale of Cat Eyes might become derailed and confused. She took the object from the hand of Eagle Eyes and handed it to Cat Eyes. 

Cat Eyes nodded and exchanged a look with Many Paths. “Indeed! This is exactly the sort of thing I am speaking of. Where did you find it?” After a moment she added, “This one seems damaged. There are missing leaves.”  

Now it was Eagle Eyes’ turn to blush. “I found it when we searched for Tu-Swift and the others in the village of the Z-Lotz. I thought it was nothing more than a clever and less bulky way to carry fire-starting tinder. We used a few leaves to start a fire on our way back here. I had no idea….”

fire orange emergency burning

Photo by Little Visuals on Pexels.com

Many Paths jumped into the conversation. “We must study such symbols and learn from them. It will no doubt take time. But meanwhile, Cat Eyes, please tell us your tale, unbroken. I suspect that although it is late, many would like to hear that tale tonight. Others may be understandably tired and eager to put their children to bed. What say you people? Shall we hear this tale tonight or on the morrow?”

IMG_3518 

After much murmuring among the Veritas, the vote was taken by a show of hands. Nearly everyone longed to hear the tale of Cat Eyes now though the last bits of color had dimmed long ago. Many Paths nodded and gestured to Cat Eyes who began her own tale of how she had been stolen at an early age, even younger than Tu-Swift. 

“Sixteen summers ago, I was born among the Veritas, in a village over the Twin Mountains,” she began.

mountain covered with snow

Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

——————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

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