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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: pandemic

Red Death Plague Rage Assuaged

06 Monday Jul 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, management, politics, psychology, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

contagion, empathy, ethics, Feedback, fiction, leadership, legends, myth, pandemic, truth

black cup on wooden board shallow focus photography

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Tu-Swift busied himself for days walking to the river for water in order to help She Who Saves Many Lives with her ministrations to the many Veritas who had fallen ill. The most recent victim was Sooz. Tu-Swift helped her imbibe some of the special healing tea that the elder Shaman prepared. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to bring the fever down. At one point, as he sat on the ground beside her, holding her hand, and resting, he noticed that his knee was not bothering him. Tu-Swift found this a little surprising because he had been walking so much to help assuage the sick. He wondered whether the walking could actually somehow help mend his knee. He looked over at Sooz. He thought about the first time he had ever noticed her. One of the things he found attractive about her, aside from her wonderful scent, was her beautiful smooth skin. Now she smelled of stale sweat and her skin had erupted into a mountain range of red dots. He found it odd that her current state did nothing to diminish her love for her. In fact, he felt closer to her than ever. 

Tu-Swift paid no conscious attention to anything beyond Sooz. Yet, his experiences kept a part of his mind ever attuned to the outside world. He felt, more than heard, the growing buzz of excitement outside. He pulled open the flap of Sooz’s cabin door and saw many of the Veritas pointing and talking excitedly. His eyes followed he pointing and there seemed to be some commotion on the hillside on the border of the Center Place. It was hard to make out faces, but he immediately recognized the garb of Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah. Tu-Swift swallowed hard and his heart began to beat hard. He loved Suze, but he missed Cat Eyes so much! He hadn’t realized till this moment how much he missed her. He forgot about his hurt knee entirely and loped toward the commotion. He spotted Trunk of Tree next — hard to miss his big frame — and he smiled to recognize Fleet of Foot. And, he nodded as he saw Jaccim. What was going on? Why were they shouting at each other? Where was Cat Eyes? 

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That must be her, he thought, but even as he thought it, he realized, no, she could have changed that much. Now, he began to fear something horrible had happened. He drew even closer. There were guards shouting at Trunk of Tree and he was shouting back. 

Tu-Swift stopped and got no closer. Even at his age, he recognized that when there is a shouting match, adding more people, generally doesn’t improve the situation. At last, he began to “get” what was happening. This was indeed the party returning from the attempt to visit the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks, but the Veritas guards here had been told to keep the party away from the central village. Tu-Swift wondered whether his sister, Many Paths had given that order or if it had been She Who Saves Many Lives. Many Paths was fairly well recovered but not quite. Just then, he notice She Who Saves Many Lives stride past him and walk toward the shouting match. 

Tu-Swift wondered how such an ancient lady had caught up with him so quickly. He smiled as he recalled his sister remarking on several occasions that it seemed as though She Who Sees Many Lives had an almost magical intuition to know where she was most needed and appear there. So, thought Tu-Swift, this is what she was talking about. He smiled. 

As She Who Saves Many Lives approached she shot her right hand out holding her staff and said, “SILENCE!” 

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And silence ensued. And then, her voice rang out loud and true.

“Now, listen to me. It is I who ordered the guards to stop you here. We welcome you back and we are all eager to learn of your travels. But you must listen! We have a plague here. Many of us are sick! Some have died. Many Paths herself is just now recovering. This sickness covers you with ugly red dots and gives you a high fever. It is just like mold on fruit or the white powder flies on leaves. It goes from one person to another. We don’t know yet whether all of us will get sick or just some of us. It’s possible — not likely but possible — that everyone here will die. In that case, for the people not to die, you must stay away from us for a time. I know you are all eager to see us and as I said, we are just as eager to see you! But you cannot come any closer right now.” 

The returning Veritas murmured but they all nodded their heads to signal their understanding — all save Trunk of Tree who bellowed, “I live here! This is my village. It is not up to you, I say with great respect — it is not up to you.” 

The strong voice of She Who Saves Many Lives sung out, “You may well wonder where and how this plague came upon us. I will tell you. We had visitors from the Z-Lotz and we believe we got it from them. In fact, we think they did it on purpose. They also gave us a gift of something they call “glass” which has caused grievous wounds and sickness in Stone Chipper and his son, Sees Horses. Now, for the sake of the Great Bear in the Sky, tell us whether there really are Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. And, now, I see that you have brought the answer with you, if I am not mistaken.”

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She Who Saves Many Lives nodded and put her hand out toward Flowing Waters and said in a softer, but still carrying tone, “Welcome sister. I am called She Who Saves Many Lives though I am afraid it is a bit of a misnomer. It is the people themselves who save lives because they learn much, and they help each other out, and when they disagree they talk things out until they agree or make arrangements not to interfere with each other. I can see by your face that you understand me, so you must be from our cousins over the Twin Peaks. I’m sorry we have to keep you away until we stop getting sick over here. Are you kin to Cat Eyes?”

“I understand, She Who Saves Many Lives. I am called by the name “Flowing Waters” because somehow, what I see flows like water out of my fingers and into paintings. I am indeed from the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks as you say. Though we had a legend that you were the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks.” She smiled and paused. 

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She Who Saves Many Lives laughed aloud and most of the Veritas joined in. Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah joined in. Jaccim looked from one face to another and clearly could not understand why everyone else was laughing.

She Who Saves Many Lives continued, “Trunk of Tree. You were in charge of this expedition and I see that you were successful! Congratulations! Believe me, we want you to come and celebrate as is our way as soon as we possibly can. It would be a fine way to repay your wisdom and courage to give some dread disease that might kill you, right? What would Eagle Eyes think of us all when she returns here. Can you imagine that conversation? She would say, ‘Look, we brought back a killing stick. What of Trunk of Tree? Was he also successful? I want to see him!’ And, then I would say, ‘Oh, yes he was successful. I can show you where his body is buried.’ And then she would say, ‘How did he die?’ And, then, I would say, ‘Oh, yes, well, everyone in the village was deathly ill so we had him come in and catch the disease and die rather than having him keep a safe distance for a time. I hope we did the right thing. He very much wanted to get in the village.’

“And, though no-one can predict the future with certainty, I imagine that she would say something like, ‘How stupid!’ and I think she would be correct. And she would be very sad to know you were dead and that rather than dying as a hero in battle fighting to protect your village, instead you died of red pimple disease because you couldn’t be bothered camping at a safe distance. I cannot have that on my head. And, by he way, she wouldn’t just blame me; she would blame the whole of the Veritas. How could a village be so stupid as to let one of her mightiest and bravest warriors needlessly die? And she would be right to blame the whole village. Including you.

“Enough of this though, tell us your exciting news. Are all the Veritas on the other side of the Twin Mountains as charming and comely as Flowing Waters and Cat Eyes? And where is Cat Eyes, though I suspect I know. And, how did you get there? We want to hear the whole story, but for now, the essence will do.” 

grayscale photography of woman

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Trunk of Tree tried to organize things in his head. What to say first? Most important, the Veritas. “Yes, there are Veritas — many of them — on the other side of the Twin Peaks. They have no interaction with other tribes except for the predations of the ROI and the Z-Lotz. Cat Eyes — she had hoped to see her parents, but they had left to try to find her and were never heard from again. And… and … oh, yes so she is staying there with her people. I think she really likes the mint tea they serve there. And, we went through a tunnel but not a dirt tunnel. It was more like a … well, I guess what Cat Eyes called a ‘City.’ Smooth. Dark. But lights. Then, we came back.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives blinked a few times. “Thank you, Trunk of Tree. This is exciting news you bring, indeed. Again, Congratulations. Anyone else have any observations?” 

Fleet of Foot glanced at Trunk of Tree, then added, “The Veritas have a leader named ‘Gentle Talons.’ They had a prophesy for someone such as Cat Eyes to return and bring a great truth. And, as it turns out, she did — exactly that! You see, our cousins over the Mountains had excavated a huge underground pantry. But instead of food for the body in the pantry, this giant pantry — which, it turns out, is called a ‘library’, contains thousands of what they call ‘books.’ They had no idea what those things were! They knew they were filled with marks. But no-one knew what those marks meant. Then, Cat Eyes appeared, and — because of what she and Tu-Swift had discovered, they could begin to decode every one of these books! The books are filled with important knowledge! It was so lucky that Cat Eyes came here — and that she and Tu-Swift were friends! Now, we can all find out so much more about the world. She needs to stay there for now because she is by far the fastest and best decoder they have. And, oh, by the way, Tu-Swift, I have two books for you on training birds. She also wrote a small book just for you personally, but — but — well, I eventually need to see you about it in person.”

Tu-Swift brightened at that. He was glad that Sooz was back in the cabin. Then, he realized he would have turned even brighter still and she would have seen it. I need to see her! he thought.  I miss Cat Eyes! I could take Sooz. I have to wait though till no-one is sick. We don’t want to take our disease to the Veritas on the other side of the Twin Peaks. Imagine! I go see Cat Eyes and get her entire tribe of cousins sick. What a great friend I would be! 

It proved frustrating, not only for Trunk of Tree, but for everyone not to be able to clasp hands, hug, and have these information exchanges and congratulations be much more intimate and extended. Yet, it is the sweetest nuts that have the hardest shells. All of the Veritas knew that. It there were not a hard shell, that might seem more convenient for the moment you are trying to open it. But, of course, a moment more of thought would reveal that the nuts would likely never survive to reach a human hand or a human mouth. Nuts without any such shell would be eaten by the small beasts that were out all the time looking for food. In fact, all knew that being able to put off pleasure for future gain was what enabled humans to survive as humans. For this reason, Veritas children, including Trunk of Tree had been trained from an early age to wait. For now, they would settle for telling tales at a distanced. 

The exchanges lasted until sundown whereupon the returning exploration party made camp on the outskirts. After much dialogue, they decided that the “gift books” would be put some ways from their campsite and left there overnight. Tu-Swift and others would only collect their books tomorrow evening.

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Tu-Swift, despite having talked himself hoarse, found his head still swirling with so many additional questions. He went in to check on Sooz. He had already decided that he would wait until she was fully recovered before broaching the subject of visiting the … visiting the library. That was the way to put it so that she would want to go. Sooz was as exciting as anyone about this writing and reading. Although she needed her rest, he could not keep from her the news about the library! “Sooz! Sooz! Wake up! I’ve got something amazing to tell you. Sooz!” 

His voice dropped to a plea. “Sooz?”

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——————————————————————-

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myth of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Author page on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/truthtable

Essays on America: Unmasked

Essays on America: Happy Talk Lies

The Watershed Virus

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Truth Train 

Unmasked

30 Tuesday Jun 2020

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

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

America, coronavirus, COVID19, freedom, masks, pandemic, responsibility, Trumpism, USA

Unmasked

A mask.

father putting on face mask on son

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It’s uncomfortable.

It’s sweaty.

It makes you realize how bad your own breath smells.

Not wearing a mask may set you apart from your master, Vladimir Putin and his puppy, Donald J. Trump. After all, they don’t wear masks.

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A mask reminds you of the outlaws in the Old West. A mask marks you as someone who reads. A mask marks you as someone who listens to science.

And science is hard. You maybe didn’t do too well in science. Or, maybe you’re just fed up with science because it tells you that Cheetos and beer is not a well-balanced and healthy diet. Or, maybe you’re fed up with science because it tells you that if we keep paying no attention to our carbon footprint, we will end up destroying a lot of the ecosystem we rely on to survive. We are melting the polar ice caps. We are killing the forests. We are killing the bees. We are killing all the fish. We are destroying the Coral Reefs. We will have more and more pandemics in the future. People living on seacoasts will be under water. Salt water. Meanwhile, potable drinking water supplies are shrinking.

air air pollution climate change dawn

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Why? It’s the fault of science, damn it! If we didn’t have science, we wouldn’t know those things! If we didn’t test people for COVID19, we wouldn’t have any cases! If we didn’t do X-rays, we wouldn’t have any broken bones! If it weren’t for science, you couldn’t be electrocuted! If it weren’t for science, which says we need to breathe air, people wouldn’t drown! If it weren’t for science, people could jump off cliffs and fall 500 feet onto hard rocks and they wouldn’t even get scratched!

Bullshit. 

And you know it’s bullshit.

If Trump tells you that “his gut tells him” it’s okay for you to jump off a cliff because gravity is a liberal hoax, are you going to jump?

faceless barefoot man sitting on high cliff

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Science doesn’t cause gravity. Science doesn’t cause human ills like Global Climate Change. It allows us to understand things at a deeper level so that we can take appropriate action. Science isn’t the reason you need to wear a mask to help prevent the spread of the deadly pandemic. The reason has to do with the nature of the novel coronavirus and the nature of human life. We breathe. We must breathe to live. We breathe air in — and as we do so, germs come in with the air. We breathe out. As we do so, germs come out. 

That has been true since life forms climbed out of the ocean onto the land 500 million years ago. It didn’t start being true once we developed science. 

But there’s some good news! Properly wearing a mask will work to protect you — even if you don’t like science. A mask will work to protect your family, even if you don’t like science. Properly wearing a mask will work to protect your friends — even if you don’t like science. Wearing a mask will help prevent the spread of the virus and allow us to minimize the economic impact — even if you don’t believe in science. Conversely, not wearing a mask will help the pandemic spread costing more American lives and losing more American jobs even if you believe the pandemic is a liberal hoax. The virus doesn’t give a damn about your politics.

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Are you the sort of person who yells and screams and insists that you have a right to defecate in public? To walk naked? To have intercourse in public? To throw rocks at people who walk by you, provided you’re throwing the rocks from your own property or on public property? How about a flame thrower? That might be fun! Stand in your front yard and toast people who walk by. You should be allowed to do that! Right? So long as you and the flame thrower are on your own property. Do you have the right to try to build a nuclear reactor so long as it’s on your own property? Do you have the right to burn poison ivy vines in your own back yard and let the toxic smoke drift into your neighbor’s yard?

If you’re wearing a mask when you’re close to others, you are sending a message.

The message is not: “I hate Trump.”

The message is not: “I am a democrat.”

The message is simply this: “I care about my health and the health of my family, friends, and fellow Americans.” That’s it. That’s the message.

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Of course, you can add more messages if you like. You can wear a mask that says something additional. You can put hearts on it or pictures of cute kittens or put photos of the coronavirus on it. But the main message is the same: “I care about human life.”

And, if you don’t wear a mask in situations where it’s appropriate, it also sends a message.

The message says, “I care more about my momentary comfort than I care about your life.” Just remember, if you want to walk around in public wearing that message, you can expect people to respond accordingly.

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Let’s suppose someone has been very careful for months. They rarely go out. They go to the grocery store once every two weeks, wear a mask, wash their hands frequently. So far as they know, they have come in contact with no-one who’s sick. One day they go the grocery store and meet YOU. And YOU decide that YOUR comfort is more important than anyone else’s life so you don’t wear a mask. The shopper goes home and two weeks later, his parents both get COVID19. Two weeks after that, they both die. One of the shopper’s kids had just finished chemotherapy for leukemia. That child got sick with COVID19 and died as well. The shopper could not be with any of his or her loved ones in their last moments.

How do you think they will react when they go back to the store and see you again — and once again, you’re without a mask?

How would you react if your loved ones were killed by COVID19 and you could trace it back to someone not wearing a mask in a place where it was required?

Would you say, “Oh, well. Everyone should be free to do what they want. After all, everyone dies eventually anyway. At least, people can go to the beauty parlor and go bar-hopping. Who cares if kids fighting cancer or grandparents die?”

Character is revealed by choices under pressure.

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What choices are you making? What messages are you sending to your fellow Americans? You can choose to do whatever “Der Fooler” tells you to do. You can choose to believe whatever “Der Fooler” tells you to believe. If you do, then, you may as well buy a Trumputin mask and wear it 24×7. Because your face, your individuality, your identify no longer means anything. To you, your life means nothing, because it means nothing to Trump and Putin. To you, the lives of your loved ones mean nothing, because you are going along with actions dictated by Putin and Trump — and those actions are predicated on the lives of Americans meaning nothing.

Trump is unmasked as a puppy of Putin.

You are unmasked as a puppy of Trump. 

You are not a “freedom fighter” because you refuse to wear a mask any more than a tramp who defecates in the path on a public park is a “freedom fighter.”

You will have zero freedom under a Trumputin dictatorship. 

You will have zero freedom when you’re lying face down in a semi-coma with a ventilator stuck down your throat.  

woman s head on plate

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—————————-

Trumpism is a New Religion

You bet your life!

It’s just Tommy being Tommy

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Truth Train

The Anti-Academic Pandemic

The Watershed Virus

The Happy Talk Lies
                            

The URGENT E-mail

31 Sunday May 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, management, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, Dictatorship, ecology, fiction, greed, pandemic, Sci-Fi, Science fiction, story, USA

man in black holding phone

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“You ready to head home, Barry?” 

“Yeah, just let me read this URGENT e-mail. Hold on.” 

DO NOT REPLY TO THIS USERID. THIS WAS SENT FROM A DISCONNECTED SERVICE MACHINE. IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS, PLEASE DIAL THE TOLL FREE NUMBER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS MESSAGE. 

“What the heck? I’d better read the rest.” 

WARNING: You have an incompatibility possibility between your X-CalDYS system CWP and your YODEL system HGH. If this continues, you will either cease to exist or your SNABLE account will be cancelled or both or neither. In any case, please fix this immediately by following the proper procedures. Dial 1-800-555-9876 for help. 

“What procedures? What are they talking about? I didn’t even know I had these systems.” 

“Sorry, Barry, I can’t help you on this one. Hey, it’s 8 PM. I’ve been going since six this morning. I’m gone.” 

“See you tomorrow. I’d better call.” 

Barry’s fingers beeped out the tones and then heard the cheery voice of concatenated speech: 

“You have reached the help center. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and you’ll be helped by the first available agent. Meanwhile, please listen to these important and informative messages from our CEO!

man wearing blue suit

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“Hello fellow employees. Our results for the second quarter of last year are not so far behind the analysts’ expectations for our results for the third quarter of next year as they had been thought to be by the fifth quarter of this year. What does this mean for you? Work harder! Work smarter!! And, whatever you do, help make us the most efficient company in the world so my bonus will be bigger. Next quarter, we….” 

The pre-recorded and completely irrelevant message of the CEO was replaced by the concatenated speech synthesis.

“Thank you for holding. Press 1 for help on Windows, Doors, and Sewer Pipes. Press 2 for help on recipes for Chicken Tetrazzini. Press 3 for general counseling. Press 4 for other help.” 

Barry jabbed the 4 key. 

“Thank you. You have reached general help. Please enter your employee number followed by the Hunkdab.” 

Barry keyed in his employee number. “The what? Hunkdab? This must have been mistranslated from Serbo-Croatian. Probably the pound sign.” 

“That is not a valid employee number. There is no corresponding record in the SNABLE system. Please enter a valid employee number.” 

“What? Maybe the asterisk key?” 

He rekeyed his employee number followed by the asterisk. 

“That is not a valid employee number. There is no corresponding record in the SNABLE system. Please enter a valid employee number.” 

“Oh, crap. What is this all about? Geez. It’s 8:30. I’m outta here.” 

Barry moved the cursor to the entry line and typed “LOGOFF.” 

The computer beeped. “ERROR 95433-J: Machine cannot be logged off by a non-existent user.” 

“What the–? What is this? Some kind of virus?” He hit the power switch. “What a day.” Barry packed up his laptop and opened his office door. 

Beyond the door, the dim hallways and locked doors that typified the drab and depressing departmental decor had disappeared. Instead, Barry looked out on pure whiteness, infinite and featureless in every direction. He blinked. Tentatively, he began to stick the tip of his finger into the white goo, thought better of it, and used his pen instead. The pen felt as though it was going into hot tar. It disappeared beyond the plane of his doorframe. He pulled the pen back. The half that had been enveloped in the whiteness was gone. 

He went back to his desk, grabbed some loose change and tossed a few pennies into the white space. He waited for the coins to hit something far below. Barry cocked his head. A long time went by. There was no sound. He shouted into the whiteness, waiting to hear a tiny echo. 

Nothing. 

“Okay. Okay. Possibility one. I’m crazy. Possibility two. I’m in some really new weird part of the universe. Possibility three. I’m the victim of an elaborate practical joke.” 

close up photography of a snow

Photo by Constantin Dorin Adrian on Pexels.com

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J slid to S’s work bubble and peered at S’s progressively overheated dance. S blinked at J’s presence and joined her hands. The bubble popped. 

woman with face paint with pumpkin

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“Problems with your A-life studies, S?” 

“Yes, Master. Just like all my previous experiments, the organization reaches a certain level of complexity and it self-destructs. Each of the autonomous agents still seems rational but the whole doesn’t work. What am I doing wrong here, Master?” 

J laughed his mighty laugh. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, S. Even I haven’t totally mastered the emergence.” 

“I guess you did have a problem…there were some creations you had to scratch. Just recently, the Sol Project, I believe?” 

“Rumor races faster than fact. I call it the Earth Project after the planet with the intelligent life forms, but you are right, I might well have to scrap it. Same problems you’re having but at a larger scale. The so-called intelligent agents are destroying their own ecosystem.” 

air air pollution climate change dawn

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“Smart!” said S sarcastically. He pondered for a few moments. “Are they too smart? Is that it?” 

J considered. “I don’t think they are too intelligent. Cetaceans are more intelligent and they are doing just fine except for being killed off by the two-legged apes and having their oceans befouled. No, these particular forms grew into this weird combination of being intelligent problem solvers and inventors yet nearly blind to Ka and Karma.” 

“How can they survive at all?” 

“Not completely blind. I said ‘nearly’ blind. They are aware of the fact that they are destroying the ecosystem in a kind of frenzied self-centered greed. They have actually made a scientific study of their own behavior; written books about what they call ‘The Tragedy of the Commons’.” 

“Well, then, with all those insights, what’s the problem?” 

“They aren’t doing anything about it, or at least not enough to survive. Instead of baking more pies, they squabble about the pie they have.”  

“It’s the same thing really in my little experiment. Everybody knows the company has too much bureaucracy and greed and some people do try to fix it but as often as not, the fixes make things worse. But, you obviously already solved it for the company case, right?” 

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Barry found the number for the crisis line, picked up the phone to dial. Then, he noticed that the whiteness was creeping closer like a sea of living, moving, Elmer’s Glue, thick and deadly. And closer. And closer. The office, just a few feet in front of him, was disappearing with a hiss. He dropped the phone, turned, then ran to the emergency exit. Then, he remembered that it was locked from the outside to prevent people from stealing equipment — though, in fact, that had never once happened. 

“What the hell?!” were the last words he uttered. 

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————————————-

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

Pies on Offer: Mincemeat & Rhubarb

Index for Pattern Language for Cooperation & Teamwork

Author Page on Amazon

Screaming out a Warning

30 Saturday May 2020

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

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

America, coronavirus, COVID19, Democracy, Dictatorship, fascism, life, pandemic, truth, tyranny, USA

selective photography of flying black falcon

Photo by Nigam Machchhar on Pexels.com

I have been screaming all my life
For you to wake up.
I see the train coming
And you lie there on the tracks
Arguing in your drunken stupor
Over this and that
Tit and Tat
While the mammoth Midnight Express
Barrels toward you full tilt
A million pounds of steel
Headed toward your soft
Mammalian bodies
And your huge but fragile egos.

group of people walking beside train rail

Photo by Guduru Ajay bhargav on Pexels.com

Do you think that if you win the argument
Somehow your flesh
Will withstand the razor wheels?
Somehow, the sheer logic of your position
Will harden you to titanium?
Or that the diamond sparkling clarity
Of your almighty rightness
Will armor that sweet soft skin?

medieval armor

Photo by Ott Maidre on Pexels.com

What kind of drug are you on?
That you don’t hear the roar
That you don’t see the lights
That you don’t feel the track vibrate?

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And I always marvelled at the squirrels
Darting into the road, zigzag,
Throwing themselves stupidly under squealing tires
When peace and safety were so close
And so, so straight ahead.
Congratulations!
We make them look like mammalian geniuses.

brown squirrel on ground

Photo by Irina Wildlife Photographer on Pexels.com

Clickity-clack down the track
We’ll all be sliced in two
And never even have eyes to look back
Never even

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Where does your Loyalty Lie? 

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Truth Train

A Profound and Utter Failure

Rejecting Adulthood

You Bet Your Life

Essays on America: Wednesday

Trumpism is a New Religion

Creativity in Issue Resolution

Build from Common Ground

Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

 

Snowflake

08 Friday May 2020

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

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

brotherhood, Democracy, fascism, globalism, love, pandemic, peace, plague, poem, poetry, snow, snowflake, truth, UN, USA, world

Snow. 

Made of Snowflakes.

Snowflakes. 

close up photography of snowflake

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

Everyone comments: “Every snowflake’s different.”

It’s a cliché.

However amazing that may be, 

Amazing still is every snowflake’s sixfold symmetry.

“What’s so special about that,” you say. 

How does the three millionth molecule out near northeast

Know what the three millionth molecule out near southwest

Is doing?  

person holding snowflakes decor

Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

I’ve a story to explain: 

Once upon a time,

Everything was One.

If truth be told, 

It was a boring too much One of Oneness.

So, 

As matter is wont, 

We Big-Banged Ourselves into this far-flung Universe:

22FAC19F-5ABE-4C2B-8102-313BC7FAE5EA_1_105_c

A multi-colored, 

Multi-facetted 

Extravaganza of galaxies. 

And yet, 

We (not just you and me)

We (meaning all of existence)

Seek that underlying, undying, 

Unification.

silhouette people on beach at sunset

Photo by Dana Tentis on Pexels.com

Hence, 

The mystery of gravity. 

(Why else would everything 

In the universe be attracted to everything else?)

In between the ting and tang of bells;

In between the yin and yang of all;

In between the sweetness of the notes of song;

In between this moment and the

Next… 

In all those in-betweens we glimpse:

59F746D3-44C7-4058-AB5B-69DF3980C697_1_105_c

Reality.

Universality.

We are all One.

And always shall be. 

So quell your fears of Worst.

Slake your thirst.  

Let the snowflakes, 

Fall, fall, and melt upon your tongue.

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

Wars? Scars? 

Hate? Fear? 

What chance do they have

In the longest run of all who run?

Division is but the ignorance of too    few    years

Brewed into flat, stale, tasteless beers.

Routed and touted as though it were a fine wine

Touched by Heaven’s Gate – a touch divine. 

photo of woman near wine glass

Photo by Elly Fairytale on Pexels.com

The Mad King shatters all of US

And all the US of US

He throws each one of us

Under his failing falling galling bus. 

The roads all darken with the dirt and blood and salt.

man in black jacket and blue denim jeans standing in front of yellow bus

Photo by Zichuan Han on Pexels.com

“It’s not my fault! It’s all your fault! 

And you and you and you and you — you all must lose. 

And I will lie and check and slay all day. 

I sing the electric assault. 

I sing it’s time to kill my foes. 

I sing it’s time to burn the world!”

And all the while, each snowflake shows, 

Each flag unfurled,

Each insult hurled,

Turns the earth a greener hue;

Turns the air a cleaner blue. 

In the stillness and the in between, 

We now begin to see 

That we are we. 

woman raising her hands

Photo by Marlon Schmeiski on Pexels.com

Bound thus together by our common scenes

And bound together by our common genes

We reject the clown’s inept inanity.

We see so clearly now that we are one humanity.

And all the screaming, scheming, double-dealing

Gets rightfully confined to back ward dreaming. 

All across the world, humanity is teaming. 

This is one large, deadly test 

To see if we could see

That we are we is manifest 

For all humanity.

4770779D-0898-482C-B861-83F8498070A4_1_105_c

Let snow abound.

Our unity is found.

We very nearly drowned.

Our feet at last are touching ground.

Our voice: at last a singing sound.

Prometheus at last unbound!

Our truth at last is found!

Our world is very clearly round!

earth space universe globe

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

————————————————

The Impossible

Mother’s Day

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

Author Page on Amazon

Index to Pattern Language for Cooperation

 

What about the Butter Dish?

08 Friday May 2020

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

≈ 73 Comments

Tags

cognitive dissonance, coronavirus, COVID19, epidemic, pandemic, politics, psychology, Putin, science, treason, USA

What about the Butter Dish?

cooked pie

Photo by kelvin carris on Pexels.com

So, here we are, staying relatively safe by staying home. One of the impacts of never eating out is doing more dishes. We end up washing dishes nearly every day now rather than a couple times a week. 

Today, it’s my wife washing the dishes while I gather dishes and dry them. She likes to wash the dishes for the cats nearly every day while I generally wait till they obtain the proper patina of dried food. I think about how tigers drag their dead prey around for a week or more in the hot tropical sun. I think about how the cats eat bugs, plastic, lizards, and each other’s puke so — I’m thinking they’re likely not into the same exact aesthetic as I am. But — hey — if she wants to do cat dishes, fine with me. I go around the house and collect cat dishes. 

You may think that I would “know” where the cat dishes are because we only have six white cat dishes for wet food and six aluminum ones for dry food “snacks.” And mainly I do know because the cats generally eat in the same places every day. Tally however, likes to lead me on a bit of a game before she decides exactly where she wants to eat on any give day. 

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Luna also likes to switch it up. On the one hand, she likes to socialize with her best (and only) feline friend, Charles Wallace. So, often times, she wants her food put down right beside him. But Charles Wallace, being younger, male, and more aggressive, sometimes steals Luna’s food — sometimes, even before he’s done with his own. Sometimes, Luna therefore prefers me to place the food farther away so she can have more of her meal in peace before Charles Wallace swoops in and starts chomping on it. 

I explain to you these details to illustrate that even though gathering the cat dishes is easy, it does require some attentional resources. 

What about the butter dish? What does that have to do with anything? 

abstract blue clean container

Photo by jamie he on Pexels.com

Patience. 

We keep a small human dish with butter in the cupboard so that it’s soft enough to spread on bread, waffles, potatoes, pancakes, or vegetables. When the butter gets used up, I put the butter dish down by some of the cat dishes and let them lick the plate clean. Yes. I do. Once the cats have licked it clean, one of us still washes it by hand and then puts it into a dishwasher whereupon the scalding water will kill any cat germs that might be on the plate. 

I leave the butter dish out for two reasons: first, the cats like the butter. 

Their tongues are able to lick it very much cleaner than I can manage with, say, a butter knife. So, the second reason is that putting it out for the cats is that it also works for my benefit. It makes the dishes significantly easier to clean. Not just the butter dishes, but all the dishes.

031E968F-DAC1-4ED0-B6F2-723C8B5A4E30

When I do the dishes, olive oil on a plate easily washes off with soap and water. Butter? No. — It’s like glue, not oil. If a plate has butter on it, it will “contaminate” every other dish that such a plate comes in contact with. It’s amazing how persistent butter is. Even honey and maple syrup come off a plate fairly easily with warm water and soap. But not butter. So, partly I put out the  “empty” butter dish for the cats because they will manage to lick nearly every butter molecule — less contamination for the other dishes. And, by the way, it isn’t only the other dishes which are subject to butter contamination. The same goes for my hands. Olive oil washes off easily and if a little stays on my hands, it seems to be absorbed into my skin and help make up for the endless hand washing. Butter, on the other hand, does not feel good on my hands. Your mileage may differ. I don’t like it. It does not feel “clean.” 

Anyway, here I am thinking of various things, listening to the news, and gathering up cat dishes. I am mentally counting them as I do so. I don’t want to miss one. Who knows what psychological harm could come to a cat who might be “singled out” by having their dinner presented on a dirty plate when the other five are clean. I come to the last three dishes where Shadow, Molly, and Blaze typically eat and I hand these and the other three to my wife. She takes the six dishes and says, “What about the Butter Dish?” 

A seemingly innocent question. 

I look down, and I see that indeed, there is a butter dish and that it’s within inches of the spot from whence — just two seconds ago — I had picked up three “cat dishes.” 

wildlife photography of tiger

Photo by Sayantan Kundu on Pexels.com

I am certainly aware that our collective goal is to wash all the dishes. Indeed, most have already been done or loaded into the dishwasher. I well recall that I put the butter dish down there to be licked just a few short hours ago. 

I did not, so far as I can recall, look down at the four dishes and think, “Well, let’s see — one butter dish and three cat dishes. But she only asked for cat dishes so I’ll just leave the butter dish alone. No. I did not even see the Butter Dish! It entered no more into my consciousness than the tile floor, the Christmas-themed place matts, or the faux panel behind them. I was looking for — and counting cat dishes. That was how I thought of my tasks. 

I recalled a video which was popular for awhile. Perhaps you’ve seen it? It asks you to count the number of basketball passes made by the people in white shirts. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJG698U2Mvo

How did you do? 

In a previous essay, I talked about how our habits can virtually blind us to what is right in front of us. 

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/02/25/the-invisibility-cloak-of-habit/

In the case of the cat dishes, it wasn’t habit so much as task focus that made me blind to seeing the butter dish. I was busy gathering the cat dishes, listening to the newscast, and — importantly, I think — counting the cat dishes. The butter dish was irrelevant to the task as I had defined it.

Since I was also listening to the newscast, I began to think that this is related to why 40% of Americans don’t seem to care that the mishandling of the pandemic is resulting in tens of thousands of Americans needlessly dying from COVID19. It isn’t that they are doing a bad job of evaluating the behavior of #45. Evaluating his behavior and its effect on America is not viewed as a task. 

woman in black dress holding balance scale

Photo by JJ Jordan on Pexels.com

Their task as they see it, is to defend the President and his actions against his “enemies.” He declares people who disagree with him “enemies of the people.” The task of the base, as they see it, is not to question whether the other 60% are “really” enemies. He says they are and so their job is to defend POUTUS against those enemies. 

For that task, it doesn’t matter whether he said this would all go away. It doesn’t matter that he said there was plenty of equipment, testing, masks, etc. when it was a lie. Whether it’s 1 American dead or 75,000 dead is irrelevant to defending him. You might see it as quite relevant to whether or not you should be defending him. I think it is. But they don’t. Their task is to defend him no matter what happens.

He says that it will be over soon — and 10,000 people die — the question for them is:
“How can I defend the President?” 

He says that we will open back up soon — but there are 25,000 dead — the question for them is: “How can I defend the President?” 

If a million Americans die, the question for them will still be: “How can I defend the President?” 

The number of dead Americans just keeps going up so thinking about how many dead isn’t only irrelevant to defending #45; it’s counter-productive.

They (the people who still defend him) don’t scan the news or his tweets to evaluate whether they should be defending #45. They listen to the news or his tweets to look for things to say or retweet that will defend #45. Thinking about how many dead Americans there are is completely beside the point! 

If it’s early March and there are only a few cases and he says it will go away, they hear that it will go away. Good sound bite! I can use that to defend, they think to themselves. 

If it’s mid-March and he says everything will be back to normal by Easter, they hear that and use it to defend #45. 

If it’s May and 75,000 Americans are dead, they don’t pay any attention. But if he claims that he’s done a great job, they do pay attention because that is something that they can repeat as a defense. 

If he claims that China misled us, they do pay attention because that is something that they can repeat as a defense. If he says we’ll have a vaccine in a few months, they do pay attention because that is something that they can repeat as a defense. It is not their task to decide whether what #45 says is true before they repeat it. They repeat it because it’s pro-45. 

If they end up repeating defenses that are inconsistent with each other, what difference does it make? Who cares? They aren’t trying to be consistent or coherent. That’s not their task. 

abstract barbed wire black white black and white

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Their task is to defend. 

Unfortunately, lies and corruption are a bit like butter. Put butter it in the sink with all the dishes that you wanted to clean and instead, everything gets coated with corruption butter. It is so heavy with corruption that it’s easy to drop plates onto the floor where they smash to bits. 

But who cares? 

They defenders judge their performance and each other on how well they are repeating the messages of Fox News — not on how many Americans are needlessly dying. 

And once you evaluate yourself in terms of how vigorously you defend #45 for a few years, the worse he actually does as POUTUS and the more Americans he kills, it does not become less important for you to defend #45. It becomes even more important. 

Now, having killed tens of thousands of Americans needlessly, he has even more enemies and the press is going after him even harder, and liberals think he’s even worse than he was when he was simply stealing taxpayer dollars to funnel them illegally toward the Trump Crime Family or ripping babies away from their mothers.

The rest of America keeps showing them the butter dish. “See? It’s right here. How can you miss it?” 

And the base answers: “So? I don’t care. Why are you showing me the stupid butter dish? My job is to gather up and count the cat dishes.” 

woman with face paint with pumpkin

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

——————————————

The Truth Train

At Least he’s our Monster

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

You Bet Your Life

Trumpism is a New Religion

Rejecting Adulthood

Essays on America: Wednesday

A Profound and Utter Failure 

Drowning in the Obvious, Denied by the Oblivious

06 Wednesday May 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, health, management, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, death, Dictatorship, fascism, leaderless, life, pandemic, truth, tyranny

person riding a bicycle during rainy day

Photo by Genaro Servín on Pexels.com

 

The rain has continued nearly unabated for an unknown interval — perhaps only days, probably weeks, possibly years. Even continuous rain might be more bearable. 

No. 

Cruelly, there is the slight hint of cessation, a suggestion of passing clouds and possible sunshine. But none of these promises comes to fruition.  

clouds dark dramatic heaven

Photo by Adam Kontor on Pexels.com

The cottage is seeped with dampness. The rose petals all have fallen. Nettles and thorns clamor at the windows asking for entry, if not for themselves, then surely for their insect pals. 

Rugs, clothing, mattresses feel damp to the touch; smell of mold and decay.  In the distance, one hears rumblings and senses the blue flash. Between these punctuated blasts, the ever-present murmuring of pattering raindrops like a multitude of questioning voices.  

“How did this come to be?” they seem to say. 

680174EA-5910-4F9B-8C75-C15B3136FB06_1_105_c

“Once, we were a sunny land, a happy band.” Two tall trees toppled, it’s true, but brave deeds followed. And, still the land prospered. But not all deeds in those dark and dreadful days were brave. Oh, no. A few ignoble kings saw not tragedy but opportunity. Opportunity knocks but several times. One must jump at the chances. Take the bull by the horns and consolidate one’s power!  

If one has power, does not one have the responsibility to make that power everlasting and absolute? 

Riders rode through the range shouting: “dissent is disastrous treason!”  Many mechanical minions made waves, intimidated, fooled, lied, and finally hauled Mordor itself to the American shores, the American way of life, the fabric of our once-bright country that yet could be again.  

This is the way Democracy dies.
This is the way Democracy dies. 

This is the way Democracy dies.
Not with a bang but a wimp-out.  

IMG_1442 


 

Fiction about real leadership in a series of crises. 

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-academic

Trumpism is a New Religion

You Bet Your Life.

Rejecting Adulthood

A Lot is Not a Little

Author Page on Amazon

Timeline

03 Sunday May 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, cruelty, despotism, Dictatorship, fascism, Feedback, life, pandemic, plague, Putin, testing, treason, truth

1/22/2020: 17

9C1B86DC-C7DA-4EE0-B688-A76C7678C58B

“…totally under control…

“It’s going to be just fine…”

And dandy, 

Like dynamite lit 

But under a bowl

You don’t see much 

If you are such 

That has no spine. 

Nor half a wit.

Death tastes like candy!

close up photo of woman holding lollipop

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

2/1/2020: 304

“…we pretty much shut it down…” 

No need to frown! 

We’re the best game in town! 

2E9EBFDF-8366-41E3-B9D1-47136A7D029B

2/8/2020: 813 

“…so we’re in very good shape…”

I like to rape, 

The younger the better!

Epstein, my buddy: quite the jet-setter! 

Jeffrey WHO? 

Him I barely knew! 

He mysteriously died

Before he could squeal 

‘Cause we had a deal. 

Billy Barr is the best!

He’s on my side! 

Kills on request. 

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

2/22/2020: 2460

“…stock market looking 

Very good to me…!”

And books, I’ve been cooking

Ever since I was wee!

Which reminds me of pee!

Which starts with a ’T’

Which stands for Trump

And kissing my rump.

coronavirus

Photo by CDC on Pexels.com

3/8/2020: 3826

“The risk is low!” 

And I oughta know!

I’m a genius who’s stable!

(I watch Fox on cable).

I go with my gut!

(Nearly as big as my butt!)

If they die in far places

Why should I care? 

Not even white races

Just people to spare. 

Here in ‘Merica, we’re still sitting pretty.

Only 22 deaths, it’s a drop in the bucket!

The snowflakes are getting amazingly petty!

But I don’t care and just say “#### it!” 

680174EA-5910-4F9B-8C75-C15B3136FB06_1_105_c

3/22/2020: 14,739

Thank goodness for ME!

My ratings are high! 

Among my slaves it’s 509

Do not whine!

Do not cry!

Plagues enrich the Crime Family!

E056DBCD-67B8-415B-9ECF-A7DE15F7164F_1_105_c

4/5/2020: 72,535

There’s plenty of testing as you can see!

For everyone willing to bow to ME!

American deaths are sitting quite pretty!

Though some will call for tears and pity.

It’s just a ten K.

It’s AOK!

64AC5B76-C6C3-40D5-A26D-9CB06754678A_4_5005_c

4/19/2020: 167,788

Let’s open up and re-elect!

We can’t have a down-ish DOW!

I’m the ONE the Russians select!

Letting everyone vote is a sacred cow.

Arm yourselves and demand to be free!

To do what I tell you fanatically! 

Americans dead? Only 41 thou! 

brown spider on spider web

Photo by Erik Karits on Pexels.com

5/3/2020: 246,943

I grade myself: with every A!

And who knows better than brilliant ME!

I dotted each ‘i’ and crossed every ’T’

And jumped at each opportunity

To watch Fox News on my TV

And Marrow-Lago’s? Golf’s place to play!

two man standing beside golf carts

Photo by Jopwell on Pexels.com

Go drink some bleach! 

And crowd on the beach!

We’re falling behind in the USA.

We’re only just now at 68K!

D202CABB-A6CF-4932-87E1-6F6A161730CE

Come on people! Show your master!

I need an even million dead — and so much faster!

Putin’s telling us all to hurry

Don’t stay home with your chin all furry.

Get those tattoos, massages, and cuts!

If you die it just shows that you had the guts!

To follow “Der Fooler” right over that cliff!

If you don’t like death’s smell, 

Then don’t take a whiff.

Stay under my spell

And before this year’s end, 

I’ll have met Putin’s quota!

You shouldn’t care even one iota

How many fell or now live in hell.

Family dead or perhaps a dear friend?

Who gives a damn when I’m having such fun!?

My race to dictatorship nearly won!

And when at last all power is mine,

I’ll rewrite history so you will learn, 

That it’s fine to torture and great to burn!

I can treat everyone just like swine!

My ego will swell! So all will be well!

Hitler’s reign: a mere thousand years!

More important: his tally of ten million dead!

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D27C46AA-C37E-4AB7-8FE8-8DA937E31A91

Vlad and I have work to do, 

But our being happy depends on you!

We’ll only be happy when few are fed

And we can feast on trillions of tears!

Shut away your childish fears!

Believe our lies, however absurd.

I’ll abandon you as quick as a Kurd!

brown and white snake

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

But you’re not allowed to see what’s true!

Or look beyond my invisible hue!

Watch my glitter as you fall down and die

Give “Der Fooler” one last sigh

Love me tender and call me ‘great.’ 

As you fall and die — but don’t be late! 

tombstone on cemetery during daytime

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s all a hoax that’s been brought by the left

Who’d open the borders and make you all gay.

Just believe in me and you don’t have to think!

I’ll take your cash and leave you bereft. 

I’ll make you work for a dollar a day

While you wallow in filth and smell the sick stink.

IMG_8483

But that’s just Donald: me being me!

So know your role; increase that toll!

Help me reach that golden goal!

Let’s destroy democracy! 

Let’s fashion a world where I am supreme!

And everyone knows their proper place.

I’ll drink the milk and all of the cream. 

But you can be happy that I’ve lived my dream:

When I die — take the whole human race. 

Once you’ve given your all and all you have to give

When *I* die — why should anyone live? 

burial cemetery countryside cross

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Let’s go lackeys and strive for the best!

Make America Great and lead all the rest!

Make America end with a big loud BANG!

Help me sharpen COVID’s brutal FANG!

A million dead at the end of the year!

Me on my throne without shedding a tear!

IMG_9198

12/31/2020 (world): <2,000,000

12/31/2020 (USA): >1,000,000


Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

You Bet Your Life!

Trumpism is a New Religion

Abandoning Adulthood

Just Tommy being Tommy!

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic 

Donnie Gets a Hamster!

 

 

Comes the Reign

29 Wednesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

America, coronavirus, COVID19, Democracy, life, pandemic, politics, treachery, treason, truth, USA

photo of water drops on glass

Photo by Andrew Neel on Pexels.com

The rain has continued nearly unabated for an unknown interval — perhaps only days, probably weeks, possibly years. Even continuous rain might be more bearable. Pitter patter, pitter patter, but not of little feet. 

No. 

Cruelly, there is the slight hint of cessation, a suggestion of passing clouds and possible sunshine. But none of these promises comes to fruition.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter. But not of little feet.

The cottage is seeped with dampness. The rose petals all have fallen. Nettles and thorns clamor at the windows asking for entry, if not for themselves, then surely for their insect pals. 

man holding umbrella

Photo by Thgusstavo Santana on Pexels.com

Rugs, clothing, mattresses feel damp to the touch; smell of mold and decay.  In the distance, one hears rumblings and senses the blue flash. Between these punctuated blasts, the ever-present murmuring of pattering raindrops like a multitude of questioning voices.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, but not of little feet.

“How did this come to be?” they seem to say. 

“Once, we were a sunny land, a happy band.” Two tall trees toppled, it’s true, but brave deeds followed. And, still the land prospered. But not all deeds in those dark and dreadful days were brave. Oh, no. A few ignoble kings saw not tragedy but opportunity. Opportunity knocks but several times. One must jump at the chances. Take the bull by the horns and consolidate one’s power!  

police army commando special task force

Photo by Somchai Kongkamsri on Pexels.com

Pitter patter, pitter patter. But not of little feet. Soldiers in the distance, row on row.

If one has power, does not one have the responsibility to make that power everlasting and absolute? 

Pitter patter, pitter patter, all the while the golden glitter glows;

Distracts us from what we know; the arctic blow.

Riders rode through the range: “dissent is disastrous treason!”  Many mechanical minions made waves, intimidated, fooled, lied, and finally brought Mordor itself to the American shores, the American way of life, the fabric of our once-bright country that yet could be again, melted in the rain.  

two soldiers standing on road

Photo by Thang Cao on Pexels.com

The twisted cross of hate

Raised like a toast to celebrate

Our own lobotomy

Courtesy of the false dichotomy.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, but not of innocent feet.
Trample clatter, trample clatter.

action aim armed army

Photo by icon0.com on Pexels.com

This is the way Democracy dies.
This is the way Democracy dies. 

This is the way Democracy dies.
Not with a bang but a wimp-out.  

silhouette and grayscale photography of man standing under the rain

Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric on Pexels.com

 Citizen Soldiers, Part One

Citizen Soldiers, Part Two

Citizen Soldiers, Part Three

Claude, the Radioman

Trumpism is a new Religion

You Bet Your Life

Essays on America: The Game

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-academic 

Author Page on Amazon

Essays on America: OOPS!

29 Wednesday Apr 2020

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

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, Design, Feedback, pandemic, politics, systems thinking, testing, truth

 

sunset skyline boston dusk

Photo by Kristin Vogt on Pexels.com

OOPS!  

The basement in the rented Woburn house was not particularly pleasant. Cold, damp, and dark, there were only four small basement windows and even these were cluttered with spider webs. One day, in order to try to make the place marginally more usable for my three small kids, I removed all the spider webs. The next day, the basement was swarming with hornets! 

OOPS! 

We had an oil burning furnace in that basement. The landlord cautioned me before we even rented it, that a pair of knobs should be used to make sure that the water level in glass vial be kept between two marks. This gauge looked like the gauge in a level.

I glanced at the gauge every so often. Initially, I checked it every day or so. But the level never moved. So, I began checking it every week. But it still never moved. It never seemed to move for two years. One day, I glanced at it, and to my horror, the gauge was almost completely empty. 

OOPS! 

Now, I was faced with a dilemma. Which of these two knobs was I supposed to turn? There were no labels. There hadn’t been any when I rented the property. Of course, I should have asked the owner more questions during the walk-through. And, then I should have immediately made my own labels. But I hadn’t. 

OOPS! 

I could not recall which knob would cause the fluid level to rise. I decided to try it. I just opened it a little bit. Nothing. I watched closely. I waited. Nothing. As in the illustration above, there were no marks either on the knobs or on metal behind them. So, I wanted to return the first knob to its initial position. But in my hurry to “fix” the problem, it hadn’t occurred to me to put a little mark on the knob and the background so that I would at least be able to return it to the original position. 

OOPS! 

Well, okay but it was too late for that now. I waited. Nothing. I turned the first knob back to where I thought it was. The glass was still nearly empty. Was it slightly less empty than it had been? Or was it slightly more empty? I wasn’t really sure. I should have also marked the level very carefully. I didn’t. 

OOPS! 

So, the glass tube was nearly empty. I did definitely remember that I had been told this was a very dangerous situation! I had tried one knob and it hadn’t seem to do anything. I decided to try the other knob. I turned it a little. Nothing. I waited. Nothing. At this point, the sweat was pouring down the inside of my undershirt. I wasn’t really clear what might happen if I failed. Could the boiler actually blow up? Could it cause a fire? Or would I be lucky and it would just ruin the furnace? 

I opened the second knob a bit farther. Nothing. I waited. I opened it a bit farther. Nothing. I opened it a bit farther. Nothing. 

Then, suddenly, the vial began to fill. Rapidly! Too rapidly! I quickly turned the second knob back to what I hoped had been its original position. The vial was still filling. Try as I might, I could not get the vial to stop filling! 

 

Bang!! 

OOPS!

The glass vial had broken. Luckily I had not been hit by the flying glass. I turned off the furnace and called the owner. Eventually, it was fixed. In a few months, we moved to Westchester, New York. 

Perhaps few people have had the exact experience I had with an oil burner, but I suspect almost everyone has travelled to a new place on vacation or a business trip or visiting a friend and decided to take a shower at some point. (Think back to the pre-pandemic days). 

If you are in most bathrooms for the first time, you really have no idea how to arrange the knobs for a reasonable shower temperature. If you move the knob(s) and feel the change almost immediately, you can quickly arrange things so that you have a comfortable shower. In some houses or hotels, however, if you move the knob, there is a significant delay before you feel any change in the water temperature. You might arrange it so the water is perfect. You get in the shower, and you get your self soapy and …

OOPS! 

You are suddenly being boiled alive! So, you step out of the scalding water, and drip water all over the floor and go back round to the controls and turn the knobs until it feels comfortable again. You’ve learned your lesson. So you wait. Still comfy. Good. In you go. Ah, feels nice…

OOPS! 

Suddenly you are being sprayed with ice water! 

Think back and you’ve quite likely experienced something like this. If the feedback is delayed a bit, it makes it harder to adjust things. And, if the feedback for your actions is delayed a lot, it makes the adjustment very difficult indeed. Of course, if you have experience with that particular system or you have a decent model of how the system works, then, you can do a much more reasonable job of adjustment. 

Guess what? This is one of the factors that makes “opening the economy back up” extremely hard to do safely. I didn’t say “impossible” but very difficult. If you decrease social distancing regulations and people respond to those regulations by doing precisely as you’ve directed, it will be at least a week before you have reliable feedback about whether your actions have been too little lifting of restrictions, just right, too much or way too much. (It’s quite possible the “Goldilocks Zone” between surging cases way beyond hospital capacity and destroying the economy is very narrow).  

And, now let’s imagine that you are one of those politicians who looks at the data and immediately realizes and admits that you opened things up way too much. You retrench. You close things down. Once again, there will be a delay before the rate of new infections, new hospitalizations, and deaths starts to decline again. Meanwhile, even if you, the mayor or governor is wise enough to savvy to the delayed feedback, many of your constituents will not be. 

“What do you mean, you’re closing back down!!? You just opened up two weeks ago! I brought everybody back, assured my customers it was fine, bought all this inventory — and you shut me down!? Now, I’ve been shut down a week and so what? The cases keep going up anyway. Your order is bullshit and has no impact!” 

If you bow to that pressure, it will be a disaster. 

OOPS! 

If you are a mayor governor, you also need to realize that your orders themselves have zero impact on the pandemic. What does matter, but which is influenced by your orders, is actual behavior. It may seem an obvious point, but it seems to be overlooked. If for example, you have been honest and open with the public, other things being equal, you will get greater compliance and faster compliance. If you have not been honest, on the other hand, you will get  (other things being equal) less complete compliance and slower compliance. As leader, the feedback between what you do and what you see in terms of cases will take a least a week just based on the nature of the disease. But there may also be additional time lag because of the fact that people will not all comply. It would be really good to have measures in place of aggregate compliance in order to understand what is really happening. 

Sadly, COVID19 is worse — much worse — in this regard than the shower example. I don’t just mean that the outcome is potentially worse than an uncomfortable shower. It is, obviously. What I mean is that the other examples, though they had delay, were (at least till I got in the loop) basically linear systems.

Spread of contagious diseases is nothing like that! 

It is exponential growth. Exponential growth can be explosive growth. 

You may recall from your high school days, that rabbits were introduced to Australia and for a time bred for food. At some point, they began to undergo a population explosion and became serious pests for Australia. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbits_in_Australia

You might find this paragraph of particular interest: 

“The population explosion was ascribed to the disappearance of native predators, but the emergence of a hardier breed by natural selection has subsequently been attributed to their spread.” — op. cit. (4/28/2020)

 

Awkwardly worded, but I take it to mean that one of the effects of exponential growth is that it can result in hardier breeds. I suppose that the hardier breeds also help foster that exponential growth. A resurgent pandemic also means an explosion — not just in the number of humans who are affected — it also means an explosion in the number of COVID19 viruses on the planet. Therefore, there is a much greater population from which adaptive mutations of various kinds can arise.

There is already evidence that COVID19 has evolved and now exists in different strains. Some strains may be more virulent than others. The degree of cross-strain immunity is as yet unknown. (Update?)

OOPS!

Imagine you live in a straw house. It’s actually pretty comfortable most of the time. But one night it gets really cold, so you decide to start a fire for warmth. Of course, you realize that your house is straw so you aim to be very very careful. And you are. And, then two sparks from your fire spew out in two different directions and set your entire house on fire. Of course, you do your best to put it out. But you don’t. It got away from you. 

OOPS!

——————————————-

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Trumpism is a New Religion

You Bet Your Life!

Citizen Soldiers. 

Parametric Recipes and American Democracy

Essays on America: The Game

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