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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: treason

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

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“…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. 

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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!

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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!

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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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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.

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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!

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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: Rejecting Adulthood

19 Thursday Dec 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

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

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

baby in white onesie

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

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

toddler with red adidas sweat shirt

Photo by mohamed Abdelgaffar on Pexels.com

But there’s worse. 

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

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

blue jeans

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

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

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

But wait! There’s hope! 

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

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

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

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

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


 

Author Page on Amazon. 

Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing!

24 Sunday Nov 2019

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

≈ 27 Comments

Tags

cowardice, Impeachment, Putin, religion, treason, Trump

The more common expression “Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing” originates from the Bible. In the King James Version, we have: 

Matthew 7:15-23 King James Version (KJV)

15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

16 Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?

17 Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.

18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.

19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.

20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.

beige and gray wolf on the green grass

Photo by Adriaan Greyling on Pexels.com

There are actually two common sayings that come from this verse. First, “Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing.” Second, “A tree is known by the fruit it bears.” These are both wise aphorisms that are appropriate to many situations. For instance, people may appear to be gentle or feign liking you when their real intention is to put you off your guard which makes it easier to take advantage of you. The second one is particularly apt when looking at the concept of “fake news.” Amazingly, many people now call “mainstream media” like the New York Times, The Wall Street Journal or The Washington Post, “fake” despite the fact that they have been around for a long time and still make significant proportions of the money from subscriptions. Meanwhile, they see as “true,” the unsubstantiated claims of purely on-line media completely paid on the basis of how effective their “click-bait” headlines are, many of which are developed by Russian troll farms. Sad, and partly dealt with in earlier essays which you can access here. 

Social Media and Divisiveness

However, in this essay, I want to turn the first famous phrase around so that we have: “Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing.” Bn this expression, what I mean is that people present themselves as brave fighters for your rights or for the truth when they are actually simply sheepishly going along with a crowd. Americans particularly value individualism and bucking authority to do what is right. In some cultures, people would feel far less positively toward the “lone wolf” crusader. But here in America, we don’t like to be thought of as “sheep.” We tend to respect folks who are brave individualists doing things their own way. 

herd of sheep

Photo by Jose Lorenzo on Pexels.com

This high valuation of uniqueness is often used by clever sales people to make you think what they are offering you is a “special deal” that would “get them in trouble with their supervisor” if it became known that they were giving you such a wonderful and unique deal. Of course, in reality, it isn’t a special deal at all. It’s the same line they give everyone who they try to sell insurance or cars or houses to. But they make it out as though they are being a bit of a rogue by bending the rules for your benefit, and that therefore, the two of you are in league; you are both “in the know” for this special deal. 

While the deal is presented as unique, the product may be sold as being popular. In fact, the product or service is often presented as being in very short supply. “Grab this special deal before it goes away, because so many people desire this product. Luckily, there’s one left just for you — but only if you act now, (before you have a chance to compare prices, terms, and products).” 

alloy asphalt auto automobile

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Here’s a common variant. Someone comes to your door claiming that they were “in the neighborhood” anyway working with “some of your neighbors” to — pick one: clean gutters, install solar tiles, cut trees, clear underbrush, pave driveways, put in satellite dishes, etc. Since they are “in the neighborhood anyway,” they can give you a special deal on the gutter cleaning, brush clearing, etc. Obviously, this “special deal” is only available for “right now” because otherwise, they’ll have to make a trip just for you. 

No doubt, for many people, including me, part of the appeal of Barack Obama was his uniqueness. The offspring of two parents of quite different heritages, he spent his early life dealing with a much wider variety of people than most American politicians. 

Donald Trump portrayed himself as very much the “outsider to politics as usual.” He claimed to be “different” from the “swamp” of politicians that typically infest Washington DC. Instead, he was a highly successful businessman, according to him, and knew how to get things done, according to him. He was feisty, so he said, and “not afraid” to “tell it like it is.” He eschewed “political correctness.” He portrayed himself as someone unique and self-defined — in other words a “Wolf.” 

He is not. 

He is not brave. He is not courageous and he is not unique. He is not even, by most measures, anything approaching a “self-made man” or a successful businessman. He was given a fortune by his father. By most accounts, he’s particularly inept as a businessman (it’s hard to know exactly because, although he promised to release his tax returns, he never has, and in fact has had his lawyers fight releasing them at every turn). He would be far richer today if he had simply invested his inheritance in an index fund.

https://www.newyorker.com/news/our-columnists/as-a-businessman-trump-was-the-biggest-loser-of-all

He has a “track record” of portraying himself as richer, more famous, and more successful than he really is. You can read about any of this elsewhere (see links below), but let me skip that and tell you about my limited personal experience. About a decade ago, Trump bought a golf club that I belonged to. He made some nice improvements, by the way, to the clubhouse and these were real improvements. He also put up several posters of himself portrayed as “Man of the Year” on the Time Magazine cover. If I owned a golf club, I would not personally put up illustrations of how great I am. But, I thought: “Well, it’s a matter of personal taste. I find it braggadocios but fine.” Except is was a lie. A lie that came true a decade later! In 2016, he really was named “Person of the Year” and really did have his picture on the cover of Time. But it was definitely a lie when he put up the posters. 

blue and white hate has no home here printed signage

Photo by Johan Bos on Pexels.com

That was far from the most egregious lie even at that time. Given all the lies that he has told since, I hesitate to even use the word “egregious.” It seems that the very concept of egregious has been egregiously extended by Trump into what we see as “normal.” His posting a false cover was certainly nothing like the whoppers he’s told since in the seriousness of import, but it struck me at the time as egregious, so I’m keeping with it. Before Donald bought our golf club, they, like most, hosted several “Club Championships” each year. The winners had received cups and their names were prominently displayed on plaques in the clubhouse. When Donald bought the club, many people quit the club, including several former club champions. Donald had their names removed from the Championship Plaques and put his own name there as champion for those years. He had not only not won those championships. He hadn’t even played in them. 

What kind of a person would feel anything but shame for putting their name undeservedly on a championship plaque? If you did it, for any reason whatsoever, I would imagine you would feel embarrassed or ashamed whenever you looked at it. I know I would. It takes a certain degree of courage to enter an athletic contest. You could fail miserably and publicly. You might win. Winning might take all your courage, whatever the sport. But putting your name on a trophy for something you never did? That takes no courage. That’s the act of a coward. Eventually, he got so much grief over this from the members that he took his name off those plaques. That should also be noted, because that too shows his lack of courage. 

selective focus photography of white hen

#45 portrays himself even today as the champion of the “common person” even though he lived in a gilded penthouse, in fact, commenting on what a dump the White House was upon arrival. Trump portrays himself, not just as “the champion” when he isn’t; he portrays himself as a brave champion fighting the “forces of evil” which include (in his rhetoric) the Main Stream Media, the Washington insiders, and so on. In fact, he is not brave at all. 

He had his dad bribe doctors to lie repeatedly about mythical “heel spurs” to prevent being drafted into service. He or his proxies released a video supposedly showing him sneaking up on a “Professional Wrestling” (in other words, fake wrestling) referee and sucker-punching the ref. Trump regularly urges others, for instance, an entire crowd, to gang up on protestors in his audiences and beat them up. 

people at theater

Photo by Monica Silvestre on Pexels.com

Such calls to violence are not mere stage tricks. They have consequences. People have died. Never has Donald Trump been put in danger by his calls to violence. He’s never offered to “fight” anyone in his ranting tweets. Without a shred of evidence, he’s named people in the media, Democratic donors, and Democratic politicians as “enemies of the people” as well as entire races, countries, and religions. “Inspired” by such lies and calls to violence, there have been mass murders and attempted murders. Right before the 2018 elections, as you would undoubtedly recall with respect to any other presidency, pipe bombs were sent to Kamala Harris, Corey Booker, and Tom Steyer, CNN, George Soros, the Obamas, and the Clintons, among others including former intelligence head, James Clapper.  

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/26/nyregion/cnn-cory-booker-pipe-bombs-sent.html  

Sending pipe bombs is a cowardly act, but if so, isn’t encouraging people to do it even more cowardly. What were the consequences for Trump? None. 

A brave man stands up for his actions and their consequences. A coward induces others to do his dirty work for him and then moves on.

On October 27, 2018, a gunman entered the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, and attacked worshippers killing eleven innocent people and wounding another six.

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

This coward was more indirectly, but no less importantly, inspired by the hate-speech of Trump. For example, after an innocent protestor was mowed down by a White Nationalists, Trump famously said there were probably good people on both sides. His foreign policy and public statements encouraged an increase in people applying for asylum at our Southern Border. This he described as an “army” attacking our country. That also played into the sick logic of the attacker. 

What were the consequences of Donald J. Trump when these innocent people were gunned down in cold blood? 

Nothing. 

The right of free speech is vital to our democracy. But it is not an unrestricted right. You cannot, without penalty, walk into an operating room and start screaming at the doctors. You cannot yell obscenities at the top of your lungs in the middle of a restaurant. You cannot yell “FIRE!” in a crowded theater. You would face consequences if you did any of these things. 

two person doing surgery inside room

Photo by Vidal Balielo Jr. on Pexels.com

Unless you are the President of the United States, that is. He un-bravely incites others to violence that results in innocent deaths and a perpetrator likely spending the rest of their life in prison, but suffers nothing himself. 

grey steel grill

Photo by Cameron Casey on Pexels.com

What a ‘brave’ wolf. Most people care when they have any involvement whatsoever in the harm of innocent others. Isn’t that true of you? And the people you know? Suppose you invite a friend over for dinner and they are involved in a serious car accident on the way over? All you did was to ask them over for dinner. The accident is not your fault. Not at all. You did nothing wrong. Nonetheless, if you’re anything like the people I know, it would certainly run through your mind that if only you had not made the invitation or if only you had reminded them to drive safely or … Hopefully, you’ll recognize that you aren’t really at fault and “forgive” yourself and not only see logically, but feel as well that you really are not to blame. But if you encourage hatred against a whole group of people and then some of those people get hurt, you certainly are partly responsible. 

August 3rd, 2019, a gunman drove 650 miles to El Paso and used an automatic weapon to destroy the lives of 22 innocent Hispanics and wounding another 24. His language on-line is much like Trump’s in concept and wording, but the shooter claims he had these beliefs before Trump. That may be true, but do you think having the President of the United States express those same opinions might influence the chances you would plan out and execute a mass murder?    

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2019_El_Paso_shooting

Will Trump bear any responsibility for all those lives needlessly lost? No. The shooter, however, will likely spend the rest of his life in jail. 

Look at the record of how Trump has treated all his “top notch” picks for various positions within his White House. They are the best thing since sliced bread, until they are fired, which he rarely has the courage to do face to face. Imagine being the President of the United States and not having the courage to fire your employee face to face. Among other things, you’re the head of the greatest military force in the history of the world and you’re surrounded by the extraordinary people of the Secret Service! And, yet, Heel Spurs is afraid to fire people face to face. Wow!

And now the incontrovertible evidence mounts even higher that he isn’t even doing this all for his own interest. He’s doing it for Putin! Yes, yes, Trump is making money hand over fist for his Crime Family, but it’s peanuts compared to what he’s handing over to Putin which is nothing less than world leadership! 

Putin desperately wants to reconstitute the USSR before he dies. His biggest impediments until now was NATO and its member states. And America was a particular thorn in the side of his ambitions. Until now. Because now, Trump is cowered to do Putin’s bidding. Putin’s agenda, which Trump has been working on since even before day one of his Presidency is three-fold: 1) isolate America from her allies; 2) divide the country; 3) weaken the military, state, & intelligence functions of America. 

Pulling out of the Paris Climate Accord; pulling out of the Iran deal; dissing the leaders of democracies while cozying up to brutal dictators; suddenly withdrawing support for the Kurds; throwing shadows corruption on the legitimate government of the Ukraine when their president ran on an anti-corruption ticket — all of these things isolate America from her allies. For most of us, they are also bad decisions, but whether a decision is bad is a matter of balance and potential disagreements. Doing the bidding of Putin against our national security and national interest is something else. It is treason, clearly, but it is also an act of almost transcendent cowardice. 

focus photo of brown sheep under blue sky

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The divisive rhetoric of the President also plays right into Putin’s hands. It isn’t just that it plays to racism, misogyny, Islamophobia, homophobia, and other absurdities though that’s plenty evil in and of itself. It’s purposeful on the part of Putin and Trump damned well knows it. It isn’t just using “bad language” or being inarticulate or not being “politically correct.” Trump urges violence of some Americans against others. For God’s sake! What President of America does that? Of course, it’s in Putin’s interest to have a divided America. It’s not in our interest or the interests of our allies and trading partners. They would like to see a reliable and stable America. That’s in everyone’s interest. But to intentionally divide the nation against each other when the only two benefits of that are: 1) Trump keeping his base riled up and 2) Vladimir Putin being that much closer to his USSR 2.0? That is the essence of cowardice. 

We should be able to see by now, that the replacement of experienced professionals in the State Department, the Military Command, the Intelligence Agencies, and the Justice Department with complete lackeys doesn’t only allow “Trump to be Trump” and run the details of the government for his own profit. It also destroys the effectiveness of these agencies and causes the public to lose confidence. Who benefits from all this? Putin, of course. Just to take a recent example, three US Soldiers who were convicted by Courts-Martial of war crimes were “pardoned” by Donald Trump. What does this do? It lowers the morale of the armed forces. As does the ban on trans people and his unwillingness to visit troops anywhere near a war zone. As does issuing orders without planning. As does casually giving away important intelligence. Cowardice, plain and simple and extensive. 

animal agriculture farm market

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Sadly, it turns out that Trump is not the only sheep who pretends to be a voracious wolf. There are many such sheep in the GOP Congress as well. They rant and they rave and they shout and pray. But at the end of the day, they do Putin’s bidding. They support isolating us from our allies, even promulgating lies about our allies — lies that are all part of our enemy’s propaganda operations. 

These roaring GOP sheep support dividing the country against each other. They could have censured Trump the very first time he showed his racist side. But they didn’t. Nor the second time. Nor the third. Nor the thousandth. Many of them won’t even face their constituents in town halls. 

Mitch McConnell refused to bring up for a vote any of the many bills that the House passed to deal with serious American issues. And, at the same time, the Russian trolls are spewing out messages on Facebook and Twitter that basically say: “Its a do-nothing Congress.” or even “What good is Congress?” 

It is a series of Babushka Sheep. Look inside. 

men in black and red cade hats and military uniform

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It isn’t turtles all the way down, after all. 

It’s cowardice. It’s sheep. However loud these sheep howl, they’re still sheep.

But you don’t have to be. 

—————————————-

 

  

RIP, GOP

31 Thursday Oct 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

America, Cover-up, Democracy, Impeachment, lies, obstruction, politics, treason, truth, USA

Context: Today, after weeks of moaning and complaining that there needed to be a defined open process for impeachment, the Democrats in the House brought a motion to define an open process for impeachment. Not a single Republican voted for the motion. NOTE: This was not a vote on impeachment. It was a vote to do what the Republicans had been asking for over the last few weeks. Their obsequious partisan fawning over a treasonous, cruel, inept President signals, I think, the death of the Republican Party.

UPDATE (1/29/2021). That was the context back then, when I didn’t think the Republican Party (I was born into a Republican family) would sink any lower. But I was wrong! Now, there are Senators and Representatives who claim to be Republican, who are openly lying about the election and some of whom went so far as to incite violence against the peaceful transition of power. Many embrace absurd conspiracy theories and openly call for the death of their political rivals. They openly support White Supremacists. A new verse or two needs to be added to the dingbat dirge they drone as over the cliff they happily plummet.

UPDATE (6/25/2022). Just when you are absolutely sure that the Trumputinists — who, by the way, are the *actual* RINOS — Republicans in Name Only — but that’s where we are — just when you’re sure that the Trumputinists cannot sink any lower — that they have licked the bottom of the septic tank and made themselves beholden to and in thrall of the very worst dregs of humanity and therefore must — positively must — be now on an upward trend, you discover, nope. They can sink still lower. The 1/6 Congressional hearings reveal that it wasn’t simply that an angry mob spontaneously tried to overthrow our government and replace it with a Trumputin dick-tatership — nope, it was *planned* to happen that way. The Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers didn’t even bother to listen to Trump’s rambling hate speech. They went, as planned, straight to the Capitol for recon & waited for his angry mob to show up to breach. Then, we discover that many if not all of the Trumputinists in Congress who voted not to certify the election were in on the coup plot! Then, just when you find it hard to even think about their treason without getting nauseous, you find that Extreme Court is in on the plot to destroy America as well! Recent rulings reveal Putin’s dual agenda: Divide the Country racially, economically, and by gender and at the same time flood the country with lethal weapons. That’s what the Trumputinists in the Extreme Court are up to.

UPDATE: August 27, 2022 Just as cancer of the body is ultimately self-destructive, so too is cancer of the society — AKA Fascism AKA Nazism AKA Trumputinism and sadly, at this point AKA the GOP which has indeed become a death cult worshiping the golden calf in the form of a fat, out of shape, old, bald white guy whose grasp on reality is non-existent. Yet, the Trumputinists are too cowardly to tell the truth — that the would-be emperor has no clothes — and no leg to stand on to defend his treasonous actions in stealing — yes stealing, not removing — TOP SECRET documents and then lying about it.

close up photography of brown wasp

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RIP GOP

I know a Grand Old Party 

Who swallowed a lie. 

Now, I don’t know why 

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

I know of a Party 

Who swallowed obstruction. 

They swallowed obstruction to hide a base lie.

But I don’t know why

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

closeup photo of vulture

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I know an old Party 

Who’s now quite absurd, 

They got absurd to hide obstruction.

They swallowed obstruction to hide the lie.

But I don’t know why

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

I know an old Party 

That’s blind as a bat. 

Think of that! 

As blind as a bat. 

They won’t open their eyes

Because they’d see lies. 

But I can’t surmise why, 

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die. 

close up photo of dog

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I know of a Party- 

Who says they like dogs, 

But they act more like hogs. 

They pollute the sky; 

They feed in their sty.

They swallowed the bat

(Think of that! To swallow a bat!)

To catch the absurd

Lies that they told. 

Too afraid to be bold,

They embraced the absurd

To hide the obstruction.

They swallowed obstruction to hid the lie.

But I don’t know why 

They swallowed the lie. 

Perhaps they’ll die.  

white goat eating grass during daytime

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I know of a Party — 

It’s full of old goats.

Truth gets stuck in their throats, 

But I don’t know why, 

They’d let our earth die.

To cover the lie

That hides the obstruction 

That covers the lie?

But I don’t know why.

They swallowed that lie.

Perhaps they’ll die.

nature animal agriculture cow

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I know an old Party 

Who once sued a cow

I don’t even know how

They once sued a cow. 

They all swore an oath

To uphold the law. 

But Barr and Mitch? They both

Said “naw, we’re now Putin’s kitsch.” 

They swallowed their treason 

The whole summer season.

They gave as the reason: 

They swallowed the goat, 

That caught in their throat. 

They swallowed that goat, 

To catch the dog.  

Why such a hog? 

To swallow a dog?

They swallowed a dog

To hide the absurd. 

They claimed the absurd

To distract from obstruction, 

They all know they heard. 

They wouldn’t vote to protect our elections.

(Too worried about their own protections?)

They didn’t vote for needed construction.

But they swallowed obstruction 

To hide the lie — 

But I don’t know why 

They swallowed the lie. 

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

I know an old Party

Who swallowed a Trump. 

Now it lies in the Dump.

As still as a Lump;

As dead as a Stump. 

I know an old Party

Who lost an election.

And their teeny erection.

So they swallowed more lies

Adorned with sick flies

They brewed insurrection.

Without any reason,

They swallow his treason,

In every season.

They think a fascist state

Would help them masticate

The rotten meat of Putingate.

A party that once was grand and great.

Is now a mere degenerate.

RIP

GOP

(New Verses):

I know an old Party

Grown all fat and farty

Some love their beer and all fear the queer

They swallowed Trump’s lies

And covered their eyes

Held tight their noses

So poop on their faces

Might seem slightly less racist.

Lead Capitol tours for thug saboteurs

Said to women who get raped:

“Your vagina ain’t yours

We enslave you today!

If you’re poor or your black

We’ll place more on your back.

We cite the burners of witches

To prove you’re our bitches.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But I don’t know why

GOP wants to die.

But they’ve gotten so bad

I’m not the least sad.

Treasonous cowards and traitorous sheep

They take the knife & plunge it deep

To stupid to see that when America’s dead

With a sulfurous head

Their own will be on the same chopping block.

The Civil War that they desperately seek

Won’t destroy just liberals or those who are geek.

The death will stink the entire landscape

The young and the old and most important of all

Even fertilized eggs will finally fall.

Not even the wealthy will find an escape.

Not a reasoning being on this planet earth

Can explain the cancerous GOP birth

That kills our sweet democracy

To replace with cruel theocracy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know an old party,

Who worships a warthog

Who cares not a whit

Instead he throws CONiption fit

Wallows in infinity snit

Trashes and thrashes both this way and that

Treasonous Season with no honest reason

Trumputinists dove through the deepest of slime

And just kept going double time

Silent as sin on sedition and crime.

Perhaps they’ll die.

I know of a Party

Who swallowed obstruction.

They swallowed obstruction to hide a base lie.

But I don’t know why

They swallowed the lie.

But now they can’t die.

‘Cause they’re already dead.

In the heart and the head

Just a cancerous mass

That’s a pain in the pass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know an old party 

Who likes to like kids

In a way that’s not good

And how they should 

They hide behind lies

Pretend they don’t see

They’re proud of their party

The Party is Not-See

Nor feel nor think nor build

Kill and steal is all they do

The bill is paid by me.

The bill is paid by you.

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Author Page 

Dick-Taters

Absolute is not just a vodka

The Extreme Court

Alito and the Egg

The Originalists

The Ailing King of Agitate

Guernica

After All

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

Roar, Ocean, Roar

An Open Sore

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle of the Middle Path

11 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, story, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

battle, greed, life, myth, politics, strategy, tactics, treason, truth, Veritas, war

The Battle of the Middle Path. 

landscape photography of green hill under blue sky and white clouds during daytime

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As afternoon reached its warmest, the large main force of the Cupiditas reached the margin of the lands frequented by the Veritas. NUT-PI spied a knoll somewhat higher than the rest. He climbed atop this knoll and called his warriors to stand below and listen carefully as he spoke. 

“Behold, all Cupiditas, for you stand on the edge of victory! Soon, you will have a chance to fight bravely for all your people! Many of you will come home, not only as heroes, but as rich heroes, for you will have your share of the women and grain and gold of the Veritas! You will be glorified among our people. We have marked the path to take you into the very heart of the Veritas. ALT-R will lead you to the Center Place of the Veritas where you will meet up with more of our people as well as the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North and the Nomads of the Southern Dry Lands. I will stand atop this hill where I may better direct your efforts. Although this position is quite exposed and therefore more dangerous than being on the front lines, I do not care for I will be here and lead us to victory! Tonight we rest, but before dawn tomorrow, we attack!” 

ALT-R thought it strange that NUT-PI would not lead his warriors from the front of the pack but rather stay back on this large hill. He would not be in any danger at all. There were no Veritas around. And even so, an arrow shot up so far would be rather easy to dodge. And, although it was true that the knoll offered an excellent view in three directions, the battle itself would take place on the other side a rather large forest. NUT-PI would not be able to see any such battle. He could only hear reports from messengers. ALT-R would not question NUT-PI about any of this, he decided, because he knew NUT-PI to be a vain man who cared nothing for the truth and would literally kill one of his own who questioned him. Besides, ALT-R thought he might be able to turn NUT-PI’s style of leading at a distance to his own advantage. Though ALT-R was not a commander among the Cupiditas, they would be following his instructions on where to go and having gotten in the habit, once they reached the Center Place of the Veritas, the whole tribe might listen to his instructions on where to find treasure and how to divvy things up. 

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ALT-R was about to rest among a nice soft bed of moss that he knew grew in a small copse of trees nearby when one of the messengers of NUT-PI said that his presence was required by NUT-PI atop the hill. ALT-R knew he had no choice in the matter, but in case he did have any doubts, he was accompanied by four of NUT-PI’s guards. They ascended the hill and came to a small tent which had been pitched atop the knoll. In front, NUT-PI perched upon a small rock. He looked straight at ALT-R who had kowtowed as he had learned appropriate. “So, ALT-R, what do you think of my strategy to lead my force from this vantage point?” 

At this point, the guards drew back a distance they deemed respectful to NUT-PI but close enough to function as guards with the spears at the ready to be thrown at — and through — ALT-R.

ALT-R bit his lip, unsure how to answer. “Sire, it is not for me to judge your decisions. My job is to show your warriors the ways through the guards of the Veritas, their traps, and the natural barriers so they may arrive near the Center Place unharmed, or at least, as little harmed as possible.” 

NUT-PI laughed. “So, you think my question a stupid one?”

ALT-R said, “Of course not! It’s a good question.”

NUT-PI’s voice changed to one of cold and steel, “Then answer it! I command you!” 

ALT-R began, “Well, the idea of being able to see the whole battle field before you is a good one. However, I am afraid that, if the battle goes as I imagine it will, you will not actually have a very good view from here. The Veritas are likely to engage us on the other side of that woods where there is a steep hill and then a large flat plain. Beyond that is a shallow river and beyond that is the Center Place of the Veritas, none of which can be seen from here.” Now ALT-R began to sweat even more. In his desire to show off his knowledge, he had perhaps said too much. 

NUT-PI laughed again, without any real mirth or warmth. “It’s more symbolic that anything else. Another reason I decided to stay back, between you and me, is that I want the men to gather glory for themselves, not me.”

ALT-R thought this very likely another bogus reason but aloud all he said was, “Indeed, Sire.”

NUT-PI winked at ALT-R. “Plus I have a bad blister on my heel. I don’t want to slow down the troops.” 

ALT-R suspected this might be part of the real reason, but he suspected that NUT-PI was a coward, pure and simple. Of course, to even hint at such would be to court, nay, guarantee, his own death so he tried to push these judgements out of his mind. 

NUT-PI’s voice now took on a happier tone. “I didn’t call you up here to get your opinion on my military strategy. I really want to tell you three things. First, do not fail in showing my people the way through to the Center Place. Second, do not imagine that you will become the leader of my people. I know you are the ambitious sort and it’s fine that you can be the slave-driver of the Veritas but if you try to vanquish me, you will die a horrible death. Third, when you come to the Center Place and capture the slaves, I want you to bring me the three most spirited of the Veritas women for my private amusement. I will personally torture them into submission. If you succeed in these three things, your life will prove most excellent. If you fail in any of these things, your life will be short. But if you betray me in any way, your life will be much much longer than you will wish it to be. Now go and do as you are commanded.”

———————————————————

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The Veritas meanwhile discussed their own strategy. Their mood was euphoric for they now were buoyed by the thought that they had driven off both the Fierce and Formidable Fighters of the North and the Southern Nomads without really doing much battle at all! 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives frowned. “It is good, my people, that we have made peace where it was possible, but it is too soon to celebrate. We still have battle ahead. Do not underestimate the Cupiditas. Though we outnumber them, they are still many and well-trained. And, they have ALT-R’s help.” 

She-of-Many-Paths brought out some Ishago bones and waved them in the air. “I am not so sure that we outnumber them. We have all been saying that we outnumber the Cupiditas, and that may be so. But I am seeing another possibility. You see how it is among us. We are all equal. We all live, at least partly, in the Center Place together. But now think of the Cupiditas. They are all about power, not truth. They do not think of each other as equals. They have a society that has few at the top and many below. On those few occasions when any of the Veritas have visited, they have gone to their Central Place — or rather what such visitors assumed was their Central Place — and not seen so many as we ourselves are.” Here she again waved the bones in her hand upon which were inscribed marks for the Cupiditas who had been seen. 

“But I am thinking that those among us and our ancestors who made these counting marks may not have counted accurately. There may be a less desirable place than we ever visited with many more Cupiditas than we have ever seen. We may only have seen some of the Cupiditas. Perhaps many more live in less desirable circumstances. For it seems the nature of people who live as the Cupiditas that they don’t want everyone to live in similar circumstances. Rather, the happiness of the few is contingent on having a much larger number of people with little. This was the nature of the Orange Man that we revile in myth but whom the Cupiditas celebrate in song. Even the war garb of the Cupiditas, besides the blood red, is orange to honor the Orange Man. So, it strikes me as entirely possible that we will face a much larger force of Cupiditas. I could be wrong. But I might not be. Such persons as have nothing might be whipped into a killing frenzy by someone such as NUT-PI who will blame all the troubles of the Cupiditas on us.”

Eagle Eyes spoke next, “I see us as a circle or better as a web within a circle. But when I try to imagine the Cupiditas, this is the shape I see.” Using the back of her spear, she drew a triangle in the dirt. “Here is NUT-PI and here are his captains.” Here she pointed at the apex of the triangle. “And the top part of this — this is what our people have seen of the Cupiditas. But down here — this large area may be all the Cupiditas whom no-one has seen.” 

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives nodded her agreement. “This may be so. Or not. But we must be prepared for a hard battle. We cannot assume that we will greatly outnumber them when it could be that they greatly outnumber us.” 

Trunk of Tree added, “Though we have heard nothing like that from KAVA-NUT or POND MUD.”

Shadow Walker said, “True, though they might not even themselves know of such. These traitors are meant to teach the Cupiditas about us, but I do not think they are experts in the Cupiditas ways.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke again, “You see how it is with many of our distant cousins in the forests. They grow and prosper by roots but also by fruits and seeds. So too must it be with us. We need numerous plans for numerous possibilities. Perhaps we will be lucky a third time and this battle will also prove easy, but it may also prove hard and for that we must be prepared. We should even have a way to warn the whole of us if the fierce and formidable of the north or the Sabra as they call themselves were to rejoin the battle.”  

And so it was that many possible contingency plans were outlined and such were communicated throughout the Veritas. Guards were rotated throughout the night. Each warrior, man or woman, attempted to get what rest they could and dreamed whatever dreams they might. Each warrior, man or woman, knew that they would be fighting on the morrow and that such a day as that could be their last on this green earth, the last on which to feel a loving touch or laugh at the antics of a child. They knew they would be fighting for their life but also for the life of the tribe, the Veritas, the way of the truth, and what happened would not only echo through their own life but also the lives of people yet unborn. Moreover, since greedy people care not for anything but themselves, the skill and intelligence of the Veritas on the morrow would also impact the tree of life itself, at least in this part of the world that they knew and loved. 

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————————————————

As the still-sunken sun began to paint the palest pink strokes upon the clouds, the Cupiditas awoke and began their relentless march, following ALT-R and the trees marked with the rat-god AGAM upon their trunks. The Cupiditas were numerous indeed. As had been foreseen by She-of-Many-Paths, the Veritas had only ever visited the relatively rich main camp of the Cupiditas. In many scattered camps on the border of the northern wastes, a much greater number of Cupiditas eked out a living as best they could. All the males beyond the age of 10 winters had been conscripted to join the throng. They had not been made false promises of riches as had the warrior class. NUT-PI had told the lesser minions that they had no choice if they wished to see their loved ones alive. He had also been careful to paint a picture of the Veritas as monster criminals who, if left unchecked, would come and destroy all the camps of the Cupiditas just as they “always did.” NUT-PI concocted quite a gruesome tale about how the Veritas were a bloodthirsty lot and especially like to cut the arms and necks of Cupiditas women and children and suck out their blood until they died. 

Though numerous, these second-class Cupiditas were not nearly so well-trained as the warriors in the central camp. They were eager to get to kill a Veritas or two and return to their own villages. They began advancing in a broad line without regard to the path ALT-R was taking. Many followed the markings on the true path to the Center Camp of the Veritas, but many others followed false trails into brambles or box canyons. ALT-R began seeing Cupiditas beside him both north and south and some even were ahead of him. He spoke loudly. 

“Listen! Follow me! There are also false trails. Keep in narrow file through the woods! On the other side we may gather atop a hill for a mighty charge down the hill onto the plain!” At these words, two or three of the Cupiditas drew near him to follow in his footsteps. The vast majority looked over at ALT-R, stopped for a few moments with a puzzled look, and then resumed fanning out into the forest. ALT-R was supposed to lead the Cupiditas but had no real title among them. More importantly, he was far from facile with their language. ALT-R grew exasperated and began shouting his instructions. To the Cupiditas, this made his speech all the more unintelligible and most ignored him. He shouted more loudly, “FOLLOW the true path, not the false ones, you …” But here ALT-R broke off from shouting. He didn’t know the Cupiditas word for “stupid” and, he realized his words were having no effect. He retraced his steps till he came upon a Cupiditas dressed and face-painted as one of the captains in authority. Slowly, he used gestures and made the man, named OR-man-AA realize that everyone was supposed to be following his lead. He saw that the lower class Cupiditas were getting too far ahead. OR-man-AA didn’t really see this as a problem. On the other hand, he did know that NUT-PI had ordered everyone to follow ALT-R through the woods so he shouted this to his nearby lieutenants who in turn made cursory efforts to organize the troops. Had NUT-PI been close by, their efforts would have been more diligent, but as it was, they saw little point. 

Indeed, the false paths led only a few of the scattered throng of Cupiditas to their death and a few more to injury. By dawn, a huge number of Cupiditas milled about the far edge of the forest in the deep shade waiting for the order to attack. About fifty yards before them, a long steep hill led down to a large flat plain where they could see a small force of Veritas soldiers raising their spears and shouting at them. Beyond, they could see the stream that the three traitors had foretold, and just beyond that the smoke of the morning fires of the Veritas Central Place. Seeing that they vastly outnumbered the small band of Veritas visible on the plain below, OR-man-AA shouted at them to ready their weapons and charge. They sprinted the fifty yards to the edge of the long hill and began sprinting down it. 

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ALT-R had hoped to lead this charge but instead, being only of average speed, he found himself in the middle of it. There were so many Cupiditas all about him that he found it difficult to see much more than Cupiditas running beside him, behind him and in front of him. As he came to the edge of the hill, his view of the downslope and the plain below opened up suddenly. The Cupiditas warriors were slipping and sliding and falling all around him. He found it incredibly difficult to keep his footing as he ran. He usually walked carefully down this slope but had never slipped or fallen. The slope seemed littered with round rocks everywhere. Cupiditas warriors were tripping and falling everywhere. A few were nicked by the poison tipped weapons of the captains and a few were trampled. A few suffered broken ankles. Most simply fell a few times, got back up and continued their headlong descent. Before them, ALT-R could see that the Veritas were in full retreat rushing back to their Center Place. About halfway down the hill, ALT-R noticed that the bottom of the hill looked somehow different than he remembered it. “TRAPS!” he shouted in his native Veritas tongue. Already, the fastest among the Cupiditas were falling through the carefully camouflaged coverings. “TRAPS!” he shouted again and began trying to angle off to the left so as to avoid the traps. None among the Cupiditas heeded his words, which had been uttered in Veritas, but some began to see that the bottom of the hill was indeed a trap. Just as ALT-R had tried to do, many began to try to veer away from the traps but some veered left and some veered right so that many simply impeded each other. ALT-R managed to barely avoid falling into one of these pits himself and as he glanced over his right shoulder he could see that the bottom of the traps had upward pointing sharpened bamboo poles which had impaled many of the Cupiditas. He ran still farther left into a thick copse of birch trees. He had to get out of this battle and take a moment to think. Think, he commanded himself. 

The first thought that occurred to him was that victory was now far from certain. His second thought was that NUT-PI would likely discover that ALT-R had failed at his main job of leading the Cupiditas troops safely into the Center Place of the Veritas. If NUT-PI thought this was incompetence, he would die quickly. If NUT-PI thought it treachery, a more likely outcome, he had promised ALT-R a long, slow torturous death. ALT-R snuck carefully to the edge of the copse. He could see the small band of Veritas warriors had retreated to the Center Place. There was no sign of the other two forces that were supposed to converge on the battlefield. Meanwhile, the Cupiditas continued to pour down the hill. They seemed to be more able to avoid falling and tripping now and many were veering to left or right rather than straight ahead. The number falling into the pit seemed far fewer and some of those who did were running atop the piled bodies of their countrymen. 

Once the nomads from the south and the fierce and formidable warriors of the north showed up, the Veritas would be overwhelmed. If ALT-R were able to accomplish his mission of capturing some spirited women for NUT-PI, he might still escape with his life. He wondered whether perhaps he should try to sneak into the Center Place before the main force but dismissed the idea as too dangerous. He concluded that he would observe from this location and wait for all three armies to converge. Then, there would be general chaos and he would have his best chance for capturing three women. Of course, there would also be more competition. ALT-R had been so preoccupied with trying to ensure that he successfully led the Cupiditas to the Center Place that he had only felt vaguely uncomfortable about fetching three Veritas women for NUT-PI. But now that he did have time, he realized that the third condition would be extremely difficult to achieve. ALT-R knew that he was not held in high esteem by the Cupiditas. One Arrow. He had no official position with the Cupiditas. Two Arrows. Any of the Veritas who might meet him would try to kill him on sight. Three Arrows. In fact, how could he capture three spirited women with no help from anyone? NUT-PI had intentionally given him a task that he would fail at! But why would he do that? ALT-R’s mind was racing ahead and he began to concentrate so hard that the chaos of the battle in front of him seemed no more consequential than clouds passing in the sky. He realized that NUT-PI not only didn’t trust him; he shouldn’t trust him because, after all, he was a traitor! No-one trusts me, he realized, perhaps for the first time, nor should they!

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“THWANGGGGG!” ALT-R’s attention snapped back to current circumstances in a flash thanks to an arrow that embedded itself in the white-barked birch trunk only a few inches from his head. He peered out into the field and saw Cupiditas running in many directions but mainly toward the shallow creek while the Veritas warriors had seemed to retreat. But there were no fortifications. ALT-R couldn’t imagine why the Veritas warriors chose that unfortified position. But just then another arrow whacked into the tree near ALT-R’s kneecap. Where the hell were these arrows coming from? Not from the Veritas who had gone to guard the Center Place. ALT-R knew that he would have to join the fray to have any chance of gaining personally from this war. But then again, it would be risky to join in the fray when the outcome was still uncertain. And, what the hell is delaying the nomads of the south? Did POND MUD screw them up somehow? And, for that matter, why do I only see the blue & green of Veritas and the orange & red of the Cupiditas? Where is KAVA-NUT? And where the hell are the arrows coming from? 

As ALT-R looked out, he realized finally that there must have been many more Veritas in these woods on both sides of the plain. They were targeting the brightly colored clothes of the Cupiditas. The Cupiditas preferred clubs, knives, and spears. However, the fraction who survived the downhill and traps had been focused on trying to attack the Center Place and it seemed to take a long time for them to realize that they were being attacked on both sides. Eventually, the still considerable throng somehow came to the mob realization that moving back and forth between the two rows and trees trying to flush the Veritas out was a losing proposition. Maybe this was the time to rejoin the fray. As the Cupiditas began to listen to their remaining captains, they began regrouping in a throng next to the near side of the river. The warriors on the outside deployed their shields. The hail of arrows had stopped, at least temporarily. ALT-R ran to the front of the group gesturing and shouting,  “FOLLOW ME!” 

Compared with the warriors of the Cupiditas, ALT-R’s body was much more rested and he was more lightly armed and armored. He was the first to reach the stream. ALT-R thought this dramatic move might just earn him enough respect to at least share in the bounty. His plan was to stop on the other side until a large contingent of Cupiditas could be there. He planned to pretend to lead the charge and direct people while slowly working has way back toward and then back across the river. An odd sense of deja vu overcame ALT-R as he splashed through the river toward the Center Place. Yet, he also had a sense of foreboding. Something was not right. Why was the river so narrow and shallow? Why were the Veritas being so stupid? They could easily be overwhelmed here. Just as he reached the far side, a loud rumbling, crashing noise like bubbling thunder began. He turned to see the throng of Cupiditas warriors wading across the river. They sprinted as best they could when they suddenly stopped as though suddenly stupefied. They turned as one upstream to see a wall of water heading their way. Suddenly, they were gone. ALT-R found himself alone with the Veritas warriors who were advancing on him with spears pointed toward him. 

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On the other side of the river, which had magically grown to a torrent, a few scattered Cupiditas warriors were running back toward the steep hill. They now avoided the traps, but climbing back up the hill proved difficult. Veritas archers deployed from the woods on both sides and began shooting arrows toward the fleeing warriors. In their desperate attempts to clamber back up the steep slope, many pushed or pulled on their compatriots. This ploy tended to make both soldiers slide farther back down the slope, only to become easier targets for the Veritas archers. Some few managed to escape to the relative safety of the hilltop and slid into the shadows of the forest. ALT-R saw howling wolves pursue them. 

Among these Cupiditas survivors, only one remained faithful enough to NUT-PI to wend his way through the forests and find his way back to the hilltop where NUT-PI waited with a dozen heavily armed guards. The man’s name was UR-yapl-NA who had suffered a severely sprained ankle but was otherwise unharmed. NUT-PI hailed him and demanded that he ascend the knoll and report on progress. After struggling up the knoll, he knelt before NUT-PI and recounted as best he could the slippery hill, the archers, and the broad shallow stream that magically became a raging torrent that had swept away most of his remaining soldiers. Only ALT-R had arrived safely on the other side. When NUT-PI questioned him about the fierce and formidable warriors of the North and the nomads of the South, UR-yapl-NA answered that he had seen no such people on the battlefield. 

NUT-PI sat silently for a long while and then gestured for his guards to behead the hapless messenger. NUT-PI then ordered his guards to gather up their supplies and they headed back to their own village. His sore heel no longer bothered him. He told the guards that it was their duty to now head back and protect their village. He walked in silence, bent on constructing a story filled with Cupiditas strength and courage and cunning that was unfortunately overcome through Veritas treachery and magic. In this narrative, he himself would be the main hero and all that stood between safety and an all-out decimation by marauding Veritas who would wipe out or enslave every last man, woman, and child among the Cupiditas. He became so obsessed with perfecting his story and mentally rehearsing it, that the failed to notice that his guards fell back ten then twenty paces and began whispering amongst themselves. 

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Meanwhile, back at the Center Place, ALT-R had surrendered himself to the Veritas warriors who had surrounded him in the Center Place. He had been stripped to search for hidden weapons and then thrown into a small cell in a heavily guarded stockade, not far from KAVA-NUT and POND MUD though ALT-R did not yet know this. When ALT-R had convinced himself that there was no possible escape from his prison cell, he sat on the hard earthen floor with his back against the log wall upon which sunlight provided some slight warmth. Over the next few hours, by overhearing shreds of random conversations of Veritas folk, he learned that the Cupiditas had been completely defeated; that POND MUD and KAVA-NUT had both been captured; that the promised help from the fierce and formidable foes of the North had never come. Nor had the nomads of the South joined in the fray. He wondered how he could get a message to KAVA-NUT and POND MUD and how they might escape. Would POND MUD and KAVA-NUT trust him? He thought not. In fact, he realized, no-one on this earth trusted him. No-one. He knew that he was no longer a welcome part of the great and varied people of the Veritas. He strongly suspected that he would not be welcome among the Cupiditas either, should any yet survive. They would blame him for leading them to their death and probably imagine he had done so on purpose. That was almost certainly what NUT-PI would think.

“No-one trusts a traitor.” He spoke these words aloud though he had not meant to. ALT-R cursed himself and beat the hard dirt with his fists. He had lived and schemed among the Cupiditas for only a short time but he realized that he hated being in league with them. Their way of putting greed and power over truth and cooperation was stupid. He realized that if everyone lied and manipulated the way he himself had done, the results were always doomed in the long run. If everyone were like ALT-R, there would be no camps. There would be no baskets, no learning, no hunting parties. We would all be beasts. We will be wolves without a pack, horses without a herd, bees without a hive. Truth builds us up together and lies tear us apart. How had he failed to see this, he wondered. 

He lay exhausted on the hard dirt floor at last and began to drift off to sleep. In the distance, he heard the happy chanting, singing, and dancing feet of the Veritas. He could not make out the words but he nonetheless felt a strange comfort in the sound of his own language being sung so tunefully. And though the warmth of the flames of the central fire flicked far from his cell, he imagined the flames and thought of their warmth. He remembered staring into those flames as a youngster as he found some temporary peace in this, the Center Place of his dreams. 

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Magic Portal to Other Worlds 

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle on the Northern Path

23 Tuesday Oct 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

battle, empathy, myth, politics, strategy, treason, truth, Veritas, war

The Battle on the Northern Path. 

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She-of-Many-Paths walked among the Veritas accompanied by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and Shadow-Walker. They wanted to ensure that whatever of importance that one Veritas knew, they all knew. Mainly, however, they encouraged each of the Veritas to be ready in mind, body, and spirit. Such preparations included not only guards and warriors but every person except for infants in arms. Mothers taught their toddlers how and where to hide and each such mother was well prepared to defend their own home with weapons and skill and strength of body and strength of resolve. While on one of these walks of encouragement and knowledge sharing, the three came upon a curious sight. Eagle Eyes lay face down upon the ground obviously concentrating on something though what was not obvious. She heard the others coming and motioned for them to approach slowly. “Come,” she whispered. “Watch this.” 

So the trio approached quietly and slowly. At first, they saw nothing unusual. Then, She-of-Many-Paths noticed a slight hole in the ground in the shape of a fairy ring mushroom cap turned upside down. Why this held the attention of Eagle Eyes was not clear, but she did like unusual shapes. At the bottom of this small funnel however, She-of-Many-Paths saw two tiny twigs sticking out. As she drew closer, she saw that these sticks were serrated. She slowly knelt on the ground beside Eagle Eyes and then lay on her belly. With her eyes thus very close indeed, she saw that the “twigs” actually consisted of insect jaws. Before long, an ant came along and began to traverse the hole. Then, a very strange and wondrous thing happened. The ant slipped! It grew agitated and began scrambling to climb right back out of the hole. Yet, as it did so, its feet slipped still more so that soon it found itself falling toward the vortex at the center. For an instant, the tiny creature seemed to catch some purchase and made progress toward the rim. Then, the ant lion began tossing sand above the position of the ant and the sand thus cast fell toward the center and made the ant’s feels slip again. At last, her legs still scrambling, the hapless ant slipped into the center of the hole and thus into the jaws of the waiting ant lion who grabbed the ant and slammed it into the sides of the hole driving the ant lion’s jaws deeper into the struggling body of the ant. In a few seconds, it was devoured.

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She-of-Many-Paths gasped and looked at Eagle Eyes whose large brown eyes locked with her own as she smiled a truer smile than She-of-Many-Paths had seen on the face of Eagle Eyes for quite awhile. 

“That’s amazing, Eagle Eyes, but how can this be? Ants can climb anything. They climb up trees! How can they slip and fail to escape this path that the ant lion desires them to take?” 

“Indeed! That is the question I asked myself! The ant lion is quite precise in the shape, you see. It makes the sides of the hole precisely steep enough. If they were any shallower, the ant could escape. If they were any steeper, the grains of soil would slip of their own accord. As it is, the sides are stable, but only so long as even such a tiny creature as an ant does not tread on it. When that happens, the soil begins to slip and most such creatures fall into the center of such pits though a few do manage to escape.” 

Shadow-Walker had gotten down on the ground to observe as well. “That’s interesting all right. But you do know we have a battle approaching some time soon. We must prepare.”

“Indeed, Shadow-Walker, my thought exactly,” said Eagle Eyes. “You know that steep hill that overlooks the flat green valley by the aspen grove?” 

“Yes, a hill both steep and treacherous because of the small loose stones…oh…are you thinking…?” questioned Shadow-Walker. 

“Yes! We can make it even more treacherous by adding even more such stones. Warriors very much prefer higher ground and very much to run downhill rather than uphill. Is this not true?”

Shadow-Walker could hardly contain his excitement now. “Yes! Yes! I see! We can contrive to have them run at us down this steep hill, thus carefully prepared. At the bottom of such a hill, they will think to see a great victory, but we will prepare our own jaws of death. Clever, Eagle Eyes!” 

“It’s a wonderful idea, Eagle Eyes!” She-of-Many-Paths was also excited. “How long will it take to prepare the hill with more loose stones?” 

“That part is already done. But I wanted to study further to see if I overlooked anything. And, I’ve already posted enough of the four-rock signs of danger so our own people in their travels here and there do not accidentally fall on this hill now so slippery.” Now, a genuine and full smile appeared on the face of Eagle Eyes. She called out, “Fleet-of-Foot! Come hither!” 

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True to his name, Fleet-of-Foot appeared momentarily. He saw the four of them and quickly comprehended the situation. “Ah, I see you’ve shared our plans. Did you tell them of the markings?”

She-of-Many-Paths asked, “Markings? What markings?”

Now Eagle Eyes laughed slightly. “Even though they call me Eagle Eyes, it was really Fleet-of-Foot who first noticed them. There are markings of charcoal on many trees near our guard posts. At first, we only saw one. Then, another. We thought perhaps some child was practicing his or her drawing skills, but they showed no creative variation and there were too many even for the most obsessive among us. We believe they were put there to guide our enemies. So, we added quite a few, many of which lead to the hill of slippery rocks. But we added others leading to the quicksand and that nasty briar patch of old blackberry bushes by the red boulder.” 

Eagle Eyes had a far-away look in her eyes. “I find it very interesting that a shallow slope may be traversed but as it grows steeper and steeper, at some point, it becomes impossible to climb or avoid falling. This gives me an idea about the broad fresh rapid river that grows among the willows and aspens near our center place. We may walk across such a river though many have slipped and none dare try at full flood. But perhaps we could change the shape of such a river so none might walk across. Cousin beaver sometimes builds a dam to change a stream into a lake. Perhaps, he could prove helpful. Can you join me, Fleet-of-Foot? Let us examine our stream.” Off went the two of them. 

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She-of-Many-Paths and She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives continued on their walk to encourage hearts and share knowledge. Shadow Walker said that he would stay behind to try to better understand how slope that is difficult to climb becomes slope that is impossible to climb and seek other new tools of warfare.

As the two women walked between encampments, She-of-Many-Paths grew silent, clearly lost in thought. At last, she sighed and turned to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and spoke quietly. “How does it come to pass that one so promising as ALT-R becomes a traitor? And, what of POND MUD? He was never the brightest amongst us, but he seemed to have a good heart. And, what are we to make of the Cupiditas? Is there no path to peace that does not require the destruction of enemies?” 

“I have been searching for just such a path as you speak of all my life. Indeed, many arguments among the Veritas, I have settled, even among the angry, so that no blood was shed and the people became whole again. Trust is much like a bridge. It takes skill and patience to build but only one raging flash flood to break it down and wash away all traces that it ever existed. Beyond the gathering of the corn and the singing of songs, we must continue to search — you may continue to search for such a path, if you so choose. I hope that you find a path without death that can lead from war to peace where I have failed. We may arrange circumstances in many ways to encourage truth and peace. In the end, however, ALT-R chose to feed the evil wolf within himself though I had hoped he would not. KAVA-NUT chose a similar path. POND MUD felt himself inferior in thinking and superior in physical strength so perhaps it is not surprising that he chose power over truth and to follow the devious and self-serving ways of ALT-R. 

“As for the Cupiditas, so far as I can tell, their ways encourage the path of power over truth. There may be a few among them who long for a different and more harmonious path, but it would be difficult for any such person to follow the path of a true heart. I hope at long last that they may find value in emulating at least some of the ways of the Veritas. A people who rule themselves without regard to the truth may grow for a time just as a seedling might in a dark cave. But without sunlight, it will shrivel and die. Without truth, a people will die one way or another. 

“We may encourage our cousins the rattlesnakes and bears not to attack us and mainly they are wise enough not to do so. But if they do, then sometimes we must kill to stay alive. This too is the way of life, after all. If we have erred by showing too much mercy to KAVA-NUT, ALT-R and POND MUD, we will pay a steep price indeed. 

“Listen well, She-of-Many-Paths, for I must ask you now a great favor and extract a great promise. I know that you and Shadow Walker are both wise and brave. You would gladly fight to the death to defend your home and your tribe and your friends. However, if you judge that the Veritas are to be wholly vanquished, promise me that you and Shadow Walker, will not fight to the death but instead leave this place and go elsewhere to find a new home. When you are numerous enough and strong enough, your children’s children’s children must be wise enough to know whether it becomes desirable to reclaim these sacred lands or to simply live where you are and prosper. That I cannot foresee. But you must survive and the stories of the Veritas must as well.”

“NO! I will never abandon you and my friends! You ask too much! How could I…?” protested She-of-Many-Paths. 

“Yet ask I must. You know our ways. You know them well and you are wise beyond your years. And, you must become the seeds of a new tribe of the Veritas. Remember well the teachings. And, if by chance you are enslaved, you must still remember the teachings and pass them on secretly until such time and circumstance permit you to reclaim your freedom and retake these sacred lands. You and Shadow Walker must not die but must instead ensure that our people and our ways survive. Promise me. You will find a path to victory at last, even if that path must of necessity begin in fleeing or enslavement.”  

She-of-Many-Paths shook her head. “It is much that you ask, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives! Yet, I do see the wisdom of your words. Whether I can convince Shadow Walker, however, I do not know. Let us first work toward victory however.” 

“Indeed, I am hopeful. Though the Cupiditas are fierce fighters, I believe them too few to overcome us. Their entire society is based on power and their avoidance of the truth will inevitably be their own downfall. Whether that will happen soon or many seasons hence, we cannot foresee. We must therefore prepare for many contingencies. And, for that, you are indeed, well-suited, She-of-Many-Paths. Very well-suited indeed.”   

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Meanwhile, the Cupiditas made their own final preparations. NUT-PI, after careful consideration, had decided to put poison on the weapons of some of his favorite and most trusted warriors. These were the leaders of the three bands and their captains. Of course, he did not tell them he was putting poison on the weapons for fear that they would realize that this was how he had won his position of power in the first place. Rather the told them that he had imbued their weapons with a magic spell of power that would make their spears and arrows even stronger and more powerful. “Now, listen carefully, warriors! This spell of power will make your weapons more powerful but do not attempt to engage this power yourselves! It is a power that I alone can control. So keep your hands away from the tips of your spears and the tips of your arrows lest you ruin the magic!” He also admonished his special cadre of troops to keep the knowledge of the spell he had cast on their weapons to themselves and not to share what he had done with the other warriors. “Let them believe that it is only because I find favor in you and they will marvel at your strength and effectiveness.” 

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NUT-PI’s servants called the whole of the Cupiditas to come to hear the words of their great leader. 

“Hear me well, oh, people of the Cupiditas, who rightly own all that is in this valley farther than the eye can see. Too long have we shared these lands with the Veritas who prove themselves deceptive and unworthy at every turn. Now, we have contrived to destroy their warriors, steal their possessions, and enslave their women and children! Hurrah!” 

The crowd enthusiastically shouted “HURRAH!  Enslave them! Enslave them! Murder them! Murder them!” 

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NUT-PI smiled with pleasure at how easily led or misled were most of the Cupiditas. ALT-R shouted along with the rest, but secretly felt ashamed that his adopted tribe was so mindless in their obedience to NUT-PI. Then, he realized that he was manipulating POND MUD in much the same way. 

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NUT-PI continued. “We are stronger than the Veritas! And, we know where all their lookouts are. We will sneak in at dusk and kill all their lookouts. Then, right before dawn, we will attack on three fronts to overwhelm them and destroy them. We will have three armies attack on three paths. The first one to overrun their central village will have first pick of the women and children to enslave. But there will plenty of spoils for everyone. The Veritas have no idea we are even going to attack them. They stupidly feel confident that they outnumber us. Here, they are wrong. For I have used my power to summon allies to help us. The fierce warriors of the north will follow us in on the northern path to glory and the nomads to the south will follow us in on the southern path to glory. Why? Because of my brilliant negotiations with them. The fierce warriors of the north will gain by learning the way of the sharp barbed arrowhead from the enslaved Veritas and the nomads of the south will gain by learning the way of unleaking water casks from the enslaved Veritas.” In truth, these promises had been made. However, he had also promised the fierce warriors of the north that they could have most of the spoils of war including first pick of the women and children. He had made that same promise to the nomads of the south; namely, that they could have most of the spoils of war including first pick among the women and children. NUT-PI well knew that he could not keep both promises along with the promises made to his own people. That was a problem for another day, however. Right now, he needed to reassure his people and drive them to a killing frenzy. He led them in more chanting: “KILL THE VERITAS! ENSLAVE THE VERITAS! KILL THEM! ENSLAVE THEM!” 

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Thus, it came to pass that midday of the first empty moon beyond the summer solstice, nearly all of the Cupiditas warriors left their camp on a great march toward the lands of the Veritas, there to meet up with a large band of fierce warriors from the north. Those of the Cupiditas were led by INGO RICHES, though KAVA NUT was their guide. INGO RICHES carried a battle axe and a long spear enchanted by NUT-PI who was himself to lead the middle throng. INGO RICHES cared little for KAVA NUT whom he considered a very low person to so betray his own people. He did not realize that KAVA NUT, along with ALT-R and POND MUD had been banished from the Veritas for attempting to force themselves on Eagle Eyes and then lying about it. Yet he still felt contempt for such a man as would betray his own tribe, regardless of the circumstances. 

Thoughts of betrayal led INGO RICHES to think back once more to the contest he had witnessed between NUT-PI and CHOFM. Something about it bothered him. NUT-PI did not seem strong enough or well-trained enough to vanquish CHOFM though he had seen it with his own eyes. Indeed, there must be magic in NUT-PI. It was a magic that had been partly put into his own spear. NUT-PI had cautioned everyone not to touch the heads of the weapons which he had put under a spell. INGO RICHES felt he was warrior enough to use his spear quite effectively with or without magic. Perhaps, he thought, NUT-PI does not want to share the power of his magic with others. 

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Presently, the troop of warriors stopped to rest where they were to rendezvous with the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. INGO RICHES went off by himself a ways. He sat beside a crannied rock wall and looked carefully at his spear, particularly at the tip which was now supposedly imbued with magic. It occurred to him that he could grasp the tip and gain some of the magic for himself. NUT-PI may have told his leaders not to touch it simply because he didn’t want them to discover the true source of his power. Thus, in private, he lightly touched the tip. He didn’t feel anything unusual. It felt exactly as it always had. He felt nothing magical or powerful about it. He decided to grasp it more tightly. He still felt nothing magical or powerful. Perhaps it was all a lie? Maybe the magic only came out in the piercing. He decided to make the tiniest of pricks in the end of his little finger as an experiment. Perhaps then he would feel the magic. A tiny drop of blood appeared on his little finger. He shook his head. It felt just as he had thought it would, a tiny pain but no magic and no special power. 

Then, he shuddered with sudden excitement! He felt it! There was magic after all! This was the magical power that NUT-PI had not wanted them to discover. INGO RICHES felt more powerful than he had ever felt before. His muscles pulsed with power! No wonder, NUT-PI had won. He had used this power to overcome CHOFM! INGO RICHES couldn’t believe how powerful he now felt. Every muscle in his body seemed to want to contract all on its own. He didn’t even have to will them to move. But it was cramping. It was all cramping. He had cramps in his hands and biceps and calves and his thighs. He began to thrash violently and tried to cry out but couldn’t. He fell to the ground thrashing this way and that. He felt a terrible crushing pain in his chest and realized that NUT-PI’s magic was too powerful for him to contain. Perhaps he really was the chosen one. INGO RICHES tried to scream for help but his jaws, along with the rest of his body, had turned to stone. He thrashed against the crannied wall where his hand chanced upon a small flower. Without willing it so, he grasped the flower tightly pulling it, root and all, to his chest. He stared up into the sky which had become an incredibly bright blue morphing into the pure white of distant stars. He realized he was about to die alone; that he had always been alone; that all of the Cupiditas were alone, each striving for more power than anyone else. He thought to himself, “truth is the real power. We will lose. We will always lose. I should have been born a Veritas.” 

Soon, a large throng of the fierce and formidable warriors of the north arrived at the camp as had been arranged. One among them spoke passably the tongue of the Cupiditas and asked to see the leader among the Cupiditas. “Where is NUT-PI?” 

The lead captain under INGO RICHES, named Troy-Paven, answered, “NUT-PI is leading the middle of our three attacks. Our leader is INGO RICHES who will return momentarily.” 

“Among our tribe, it is considered very rude not to have him here to greet us,” he said solemnly. “Find him. We must parley.” 

Troy-Paven beckoned to one of his underlings. “Go fetch INGO RICHES and ask him if it would please him to join us now as the fierce and formidable warriors of the north have arrived. He walked off over by that wall.” Troy-Paven thought it odd that INGO RICHES had not come when the northern warriors had arrived. They had made no secret of their arrival. INGO RICHES should have both seen and heard them and for that matter, smelled them as well, he thought, with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Momentarily, Troy-Paven’s underling returned, ashen-faced. “Well?! I told you to bring INGO RICHES,” barked Troy-Paven. 

“Most honored Troy-Paven, might I have a moment to talk with you alone?”

“NO! I told you…what is the problem? What did he tell you?” barked Troy-Paven even louder. He wanted to show the fierce and formidable warriors of the north that his men followed his orders completely. It was not going well. 

“Troy-Paven, my captain, INGO RICHES lies yonder by that crannied wall. Alas, he cannot speak or come hither because…because he is dead.”

At this, Troy-Paven leapt at his underling and struck him across the face with the blade of his hand. “Do not bring me such lies! Where is INGO-RICHES?!” 

“Oh, Sir, I speak the truth. He is dead, I know not how.” 

Again, Troy-Paven struck his hapless underling for delivering bad news to a superior, as was the customary way to react to bad news among the Cupiditas. Troy-Paven put extra energy into these blows however because he was being embarrassed in front of the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. 

“I will ask you one more time. This time. The truth. Or, I swear, I will kill you myself!” said Troy-Paven tonelessly. His jaw was clenched and his face was ashen. 

“I will fetch him, most noble one and he will tell you himself.” Off the man scurried. Troy-Paven shook his head and looked at the leader of the northern warriors and tilted his head as though to indicate that this was an unfortunate anomaly among the Cupiditas. Meanwhile, the visage of the northern leader remained stoic and unreadable. Soon, the hapless underling of Troy-Paven appeared dragging the twisted and lifeless body of INGO-RICHES whose claw-gripped hand still grasped the flower, root and all. 

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Troy-Paven stared uncomprehendingly. More of the fierce and formidable warriors from the north were gathering around trying to understand what was happening. Troy-Paven, up to now, had spent most of his career being a lackey for INGO-RICHES. Now, he found himself suddenly in charge of warriors without orders from INGO-RICHES. 

KAVA-NUT watched all this unfold. He thought about what might happen if fighting were to break out between the northern warriors and the Cupiditas. He did not really like fighting all that much in any case. He much preferred to overpower smaller women with the help of a friend or two. He decided this might be the right time to sneak off and meet up with ALT-R and POND MUD. He had, after all, some unfinished business with Eagle Eyes. Just as POND MUD had designs on She-of-Many-Paths and ALT-R…Who did ALT-R fancy? Oddly, he realized that he had never really asked himself that question before. He now realized upon reflection that whenever anyone brought up the topic, ALT-R had been very vague or had changed the subject. Oh, well, what did it matter? He decided to jog for a bit in order to put a longer distance between himself and the force he was supposed to be scouting for. But, he wondered who wants to be a scout? I’d be the first one to be pierced with an arrow or spear. 

As he neared the land where the Veritas became more probable, he stopped jogging and climbed a nearby knoll. From here, he could see in the distance that warriors were again on the path behind him. Apparently, he thought, the tribes had devised a plan of attack and were again working together as planned. He wondered whether he should return in that case and excuse his apparent absence as being simply part of his duty as an advanced scout. On the other hand, he would still be expected to be leading and if he were discovered by the Veritas….after all, he had been banished and could be killed on sight. The warriors coming en masse would be much safer than he would be. 

KAVA-NUT looked back through the teachings he had learned from the Veritas and recalled the words of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives who had been having them observe many different types of animals. She had summed up her message by saying, “There is always another way. Nature is infinitely clever in her variety and diversity. You can do the same with your thinking.” KAVA-NUT then recalled that She-of-Many-Paths had taken this lesson much to heart and began showing off with her answers about just how many other ways she could think of. So, I will be safer, he thought, if I can better camouflage myself and stay away from the paths I marked. Then, I have the best chance of meeting up with ALT-R and POND MUD after they’ve taken the middle and southern paths and most of the fighting is done. After deciding on this new non-path path, he jogged down from the knoll and turned down the path and tore a few leafy branches from seedlings contriving to arrange them to make himself both less visible generally and less recognizable to the Veritas. He hoped that the warriors behind him would assume he had gone down the marked path from the evidence of these recently torn bushes. But KAVA-NUT had other plans and he jogged back the other direction behind a thick copse of birches. He was now angling in toward the middle path. Here at least, the warriors were all to be of the Cupiditas and they would be following orders and there would be no need for coordinating two tribes. 

For a time KAVA-NUT turned due west toward the central place of the Veritas, tracing out a path he reckoned to be well south of the one that the northern force was taking and yet well north of the central path. For this reason, he was quite surprised to find one of the AGAM marks that they had carefully placed to guide the forces to elude the guardians and then come behind them and ambush them. 

This must be the work of ALT-R who had reconnoitered the middle path. KAVA-NUT was quite sure that he himself had not placed it here. In another few hundred yards, he encountered another such mark. KAVA-NUT looked back through the forest trying to get a clear look at not too distant mountains to better orient himself. He found himself filled with uncertainty for he could not tell where he was from his few glimpses of mountain peaks. He could not believe he had strayed this far south to cross ALT-R’s path, yet here he was. It had to be ALT-R’s path, he reasoned. He saw no evidence at all that they had yet come by here. If I simply wait here for them, they will eventually meet up with me. It would soon prove too dark to advance much anyway. KAVA-NUT felt bone tired. He realized that had not felt really good since…since trying to convince Eagle Eyes that she loved him. And, she did. Of that he was sure. She may not know it, but she does. And she will. Because I will make her. And POND MUD will have his way with She-of-Many-Paths. She-of-Many-Paths. 

Hah! If she were here right now, she would rattle on about other paths of thought and how the first few ideas that occur to you are likely wrong. And she would continue and it would be annoying. It’s annoying to think of so many paths. He whispered aloud: “Damn her!” For despite his will, he found himself considering yet another explanation. The Veritas might have discovered these markings and put false markers in various places to confuse the advancing armies. If that were so, he should return and warn the soldiers…but it would only make sense if we were not there to lead the soldiers. It wouldn’t do any good to put false markers because I would lead them to the correct ones which I just placed there. Again, the image of Eagle Eyes came to him. “Damn you! Leave me alone!” He had spoken aloud and spoken loudly. He squatted motionless with his camouflage boughs in place. He heard nothing. In the stillness, it occurred to him that the Veritas would have no way to know that The Three would all serve as scouts. 

He waited patiently all evening and all night, but no-one came. Sure enough, it must be a false trail he was on. He ignored the marks and homed toward the center of the Veritas people. I have a date of destiny with Eagle Eyes, he thought. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that Ealge Eyes might be killed in battle long before he had his chance to subdue her. Walking alone, he made good time and arrived mid-day at the edge of the Veritas central place. Here there was a wide stream of fast-flowing fresh water with large aspens and willows lining both the banks. And, sure enough, at the edge of this was none other than Eagle Eyes! The fool was playing with rocks at the edge of the small river like some child. You’re under attack, he wanted to shout. How can you be so stupid? You need me to control you, and that I will. Amazingly, she was all by herself just like last time. He dropped his boughs and ran at her fill tilt, splashing through the shallow stream. She seemed frozen on the spot and made no attempt to flee. 

“Well, my sweet one. You and I have a date with destiny! We have unfinished business!” He strode toward her confidently for he outweighed her easily by half again. Eagle Eyes stood and faced him. 

“Indeed we do.” Then KAVA-NUT heard her scream. She must be terrified, he thought, joyfully. He came up to her and grabbed her with both of his long arms and wrapped them tightly around her, pinning her arms to her side. “I was banished because of you, Eagle Eyes. And now I will have my justice at last.”

Eagle Eyes continued to scream in a high-pitched thin tone. Then her eyes flicked upward and she looked back down to stare at KAVA-NUT. “Your justice? I don’t think so. Justice should be blind.” 

black and white eagle

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“Don’t talk nonsense Eagle Eyes. Now, lie down on your back and learn…WHAT?!” KAVA-NUT let go of Eagle Eyes and fell to his knees screaming in pain as both his hands shot up to his right eye. Then, as quick as the beat of a birds wing he felt another searing hot pain in his left eye. The last thing he saw was the beak of an eagle or hawk slashing toward his eye. He screamed so loudly as to be nearly incoherent though many heard these words. “NO! NO! NO! Oh, I am blind! You did this Eagle Eyes! You did this! I will still have you, you witch! Wait till the other two armies come! We will destroy you! And I will have you yet!” 

Out from behind an ancient willow, Fleet-of-Foot walked slowly toward him, bow drawn. “I don’t think so.” 

“Nor I,” said Eagle Eyes who had now approached KAVA-NUT with her hunting knife drawn. “You are banished and any of the Veritas may kill you. But they have left that chore to me.” 

“You’d better be nice to me! I … how the hell did you tear my eyes out? Did you turn yourself into an Eagle? I will kill you. KILL YOU! My friends will be here soon. Not just ALT-R and POND MUD but nomads from the south and fierce, formidable fighters from the far north. WE WILL OWN YOU! We will OWN you! We will…my eyes. Oh, my eyes. My eyes!” 

Fleet-of-Foot put away his bow and put a hammer lock on KAVA-NUT, nearly dislocating the latter’s shoulder. Working together, Fleet-of-Foot and Eagle Eyes quickly tied KAVA-NUT’s hands behind him. 

Eagle Eyes said, “Come, we do not want you polluting our stream.” Eagle Eyes and Fleet of Foot decided to come put KAVA-NUT on display for all to see. He was set upon a high bar, his hands still tied behind him. The trained hawk of Eagle Eyes had not quite had his fill for he had fledgelings to help feed. Periodically, the hawk returned to feed on the eyes and face of KAVA-NUT. Tearing a piece of meat off with its sharp beak and claws, he would return to the nest where the eager young squawked in delight. Indeed, justice was served. 

—————————————————————————————

The Veritas, having moved their guard posts and arranged for bird call communication, were aware of the northern army which marched noisily and clumsily toward what they thought were the guard posts of the Veritas. Without any local guide, and with a path to victory marked by many false trails, the northern army, under no clear leadership floundered into the forest and became little more than a meandering mob. Every so often, one of their number would fall into a trap or be shot through with a poison arrow, but no archer was ever seen. 

The leader of the northern warriors and Troy-Paven had discovered that NUT-PI had promised the same spoils and first choice in slaves to both the Cupiditas and the northern warriors. Troy-Paven decided not to argue this point however as his own men were greatly outnumbered by the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. Once they joined up with the middle army which was where the main force of warriors of the Cupiditas were, they would be in the majority and then, they could argue about who got what for their efforts. First, they must work together to enslave the Veritas. As more and more warriors were suddenly assailed by an unseen enemy, the leader of the Northerners became more and more inclined to leave off this war. They had no real quarrel with the Veritas. Often, they had, in fact, made mutually beneficial trades with them. He also found it personally offensive to interact with the Cupiditas who so relied on hierarchy and protocol as to be stupidly inflexible in battle. The fierce and formidable warriors of the north believed in fighting in an individualistic and heroic way. The Cupiditas believed in a strict hierarchy of command and control that was wildly unsuited to the current operation. It soon transpired, that at the insistence of Troy-Paven, the troops had followed the “marked trail” to victory into a briar patch and then into quicksand. The leader of the fierce and formidable soldiers of the north, named URDU-TEA, decided he had had enough and called for his men to follow him back to their own village. 

Troy-Paven knew that if NUT-PI found out he had let their ally slip away, it would be certain death. To face down this general would probably be the same. But what could he offer him to stay? 

“WE GO!” said URDU-TEA and his men began to follow him. 

“Wait! Don’t go! You can’t leave. NUT-PI will destroy you when he is done with the Veritas.”

“Where is this NUT-PI? I have not seen him. And where is this ‘scout’ who was supposed to guide us? What became of him? And, why did your own leader fall dead in your midst? You are not an army. You are a joke. We will let you live. Attack the Veritas. Don’t attack the Veritas. In truth, we don’t really care. But either way, your path and our path are no longer the same. Try to stop us and you will all die. We GO!” 

man wearing armor and walking in snowy field

Photo by Luka Siemionov on Pexels.com

Troy-Paven’s jaw dropped but he had nothing to say. What had happened with KAVA-NUT anyway? They had now spent countless hours trying one false path and then another. They had yet to find a single occupied guard post and certainly not surprised anyone. If anything they were the ones being slaughtered by surprise. INGO-RICHES was right when he had echoed the words of NUT-PI: “Who can trust a traitor?” Yet, INGO-RICHES lay dead. KAVA-NUT had disappeared. 

OH! Troy-Paven could not believe he had not seen this earlier. KAVA-NUT was not a traitor! He had killed INGO-RICHES and laid false trails at the behest of the Veritas! Then, he had run off so they wouldn’t discover either of his crimes. He now saw a clear course of action. He must head due south and try to warn the middle wave of warriors which was being led by NUT-PI himself. They were all walking into a carefully set trap laid by the Veritas. He let the fierce and formidable warriors of the north pass without incident. When they were out of earshot, he ordered that they would now be heading due south to meet up with the larger Cupiditas force. He did not share why he thought this was a good idea nor his insight that the trio of traitors must really still be working on behalf of the Veritas. He and he alone wanted to take the credit for bringing this critical intelligence to their glorious leader.    

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