Yesterday I received an award for "California Patriot of the Year - 2015" from the Coalition to Honor America's Heroes. I have no idea why I was picked for this honor: somehow I got on their "one born every minute" mailing list. I know nothing about their organization. I suspect that they might think many of my views to be unpatriotic.
Nonetheless, it prompted me to scribe some thoughts I've had recently on the subjects of patriotism and heroism. I think Kipling gave the best definition of what society calls a hero in his poem if:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs... (full poem @: "If," A Poem by Rudyard Kipling)
I don't think that doing your job in a stressful, possibly life-threatening situation is particularly heroic. In the case where I received an army award for valor I simply kept my cool while others were losing theirs. No bravery was involved, just simple self preservation. Those things which for which I was proud of my courage were small and went unnoticed at large. To me a hero is someone who puts himself on the line when he or she doesn't have to without expectation of reward or recognition.
But what I really wanted to address was the subject of "patriotism". In my experience 90% of what is called "patriotism" in the United States is not. It is jingoism. It is: let's jump on the band wagon and pound our chests while loudly proclaiming our tribe is better than anyone else's: "Our country (state,county, city, township), love it or leave it". While regional pride is a fine thing, this nonsense (I and my tribe are better than you and your tribe) is dangerous. To me, a true patriot opposes this type of thinking.
The true patriot is one who acts in a heroic manner for the good of their tribe. Especially those who sacrifice to that end. Most especially those who go oppose the mob opinion. I served in Viet Nam without regret. I laud those who throughout our history have given of themselves, perhaps risking their lives for their country. I respect those who left the U.S. to evade the Viet Nam war but those who stayed behind and fought it were, in my book the at least as TRUE patriots.
For a democracy to function it is absolutely necessary that unpopular opinions be heard lest the democratic process be overwhelmed by the "tyranny of the majority". To publicly express an unpopular opinion requires courage. To be a heroic patriot means standing up to the crowd and saying "you're wrong" and "here's why."
Friday, October 26, 2018
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Four Steps to a Rational Society
Four Steps to a Rational Society
What does the obligation of the individual to society? What is the obligation of society to the individual? In order to determine what a rational structure for a society might be, one must first ask what the function of that society is. In a democracy it seems clear that that function is to provide for the welfare of its members. When a society fails to provide the necessities of life for a member, that member is no longer capable of participating in the society. Thus food, shelter, clothing and health, both physical and mental are obligations of society. Further when the society fulfills that obligation it seems only reasonable that the individual owes service of some form to that society.
These conclusions lead to the first two of the four steps to a rational society:
1) UBI - Universal Basic Income (Guaranteed Income)
The simplest way for a society to meet it's obligation of providing for the welfare of its members on an individual basis is what I originally called a guaranteed national income and has now come to be called "Universal Basic Income". This is a rational approach to equality under the law.
2) USvc - Universal Service (a universal draft)
Any citizen not willing to provide service to the society in which they live is not worthy of that society. The mechanisms for providing that service under law must be, of necessity, of some complexity. However as a first pass it seems to this author that, as the working life of an adult is approximately 50 years, a draft for all citizens of 5 years service (10%h of adult working life) is not unreasonable.
How then may the funds necessary to support step 1) and other public works be raised in an equitable? This leads to the second two steps:
3) Transaction Tax - a tax on all public exchanges of goods and services to the exclusion of all other taxes
Providing the extensive funds necessary to finance UBI may best be achieved by a transaction tax in the absence of all other forms of taxation. The society provides the means for the transition to take place so ethical grounds for its taxation are established. The current system of taxation is so grossly unfair that it is laughable. The middle class experiences higher, & higher tax rates, while trillion dollar corporations use tax shelters to avoid paying. In the U.S. approximately 5 billion dollars in transactions occur every day. A 10% tax on these transitions would provide enough in a single day to yield over a thousand dollars for every U.S. citizen. Further, this would, in all likely-hood, result in a bureaucracy greatly reduced from the current kludge. An old rule in design is "KISS: keep it simple, stupid." Simple is fairer.
4) Tax Use Choice - implementation of the citizen's right to determine how his taxes are used.
In today's society, an option that has never before been available is available: the choice of which public works (aside from the given UBI) to which the citizen's tax dollars are spent. The use of computers makes this possible. Every citizen should be able to say where their tax dollars are put to work. As an example, I am a proponent of space exploration. Many I know are not. I should be able to put my tax dollars into this public work while my neighbor, who supports better street lightening (which I think superfluous) puts their money into the lighting.
Obviously, there are details to be worked out here should such a utopian scheme ever be adopted. Let me warn here that adoption of a 1)UBI without some form of 2)universal service can not work and I would oppose it. Today's political realities may prevent such a scheme from being adopted especially with regard to step 3) transition tax. I am not holding my breath. . Further, there would be many technological challenges to implementing 4)a tax use choice though they are tech implementation problems, not theoretical limitations.
Perfection is a goal that is likely unattainable practically yet should be the goal towards which we strive. I hope we have the wisdom to continue to do so.
Friday, June 23, 2017
Homecoming
Homecoming
Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Clarke Down Station. I am Dr. Pamela Diaz-Singh and on the behalf of Sol-Synch and Eden-Earth I have the honor of giving you your Earth-side orientation this morning. The Eden-Earth Corporation currently leases Clark Down for the administration of all visitors to planet-side. This gives Eden-Earth lobby influence in the Sol-Synch democracy process according to the performance of their contractual obligations.
I want to take just a few minutes to review the briefing you received yesterday at Up Station. The crew of the Colony Research Vessel Hudson is the third to complete the return voyage to Earth. We have found that short term memory loss is significant for round trip passengers using cryopods. Be assured, your memory functions will soon return to normal. To assist in that, clean out remaining toxins, and rebuild muscle and bone loss for a terrestrial gravity environment you were injected yesterday with nanys. You'll probably experience some discomfort over the next couple of days so we recommend that you take it easy and rest in the guest quarters assigned you here at Clarke Down when not attending seminars. You may run slight fevers. Starting Thursday you will probably feel up to using Eden-Earth facilities and will be given passes to go any where you wish planet-side. Transport to a point within about a hundred kilometers of any destination on the planet via Entanglement Pads will be made available. Just use your ID badge at the EPad kiosk.
As you've been told, your voyage from Bernard's Star has been highly successful. There was a 97% recovery rate. We sincerely regret the loss of the Hudson's junior communications officer Lawrence Kelsey. There will be a memorial service in the Clarke Down chapel at 16:30 this afternoon. Directions are in your handouts and will also be available through the link.
I know you were all hoping to make an important contribution to mankind's knowledge of possible human colony habitats but, as you were told yesterday, the scientific information you brought back with you is obsolete. A practical model of the Alcubierre drive was perfected 73 years after the Hudson left Earth. The SSV John Muir arrived at Benard's Star about 3 years into your return home. The information you carried including sample materials was brought here over 56 years ago by the Muir. All of this information will be available to you over the link as your nanys come on line over the day or so. We've scheduled a seminar on link use for 13:00 this afternoon in this conference room. Rest assured that your sacrifices have not gone in vain. As your individual nanys become operative (they will tell you when they are ready) we'd like you to spend an hour resting in your assigned quarters. At that time your subjective experiences will be added to the link models of many different fields including cryo-biology, planetary formation, inter-stellar vehicle design, exo-zoology, and so on.
I want to spend a few moments in refresher on the salient points of earth history in the 172 years since the Hudson left Earth can be enumerated as follows:
1) At the time of the Hudson's departure increasing planetary temperature had released a number of extremely virulent pathogens from Antarctic ice where they'd been frozen since the age of the dinosaurs
2) Over 80% of Earth's human population was affected and unprecedented mass extinctions occurred in species world-wide
3) The development of successful nany technology in 2137, some fourteen years into the Hudson's outbound journey, provided the mechanism for the inoculation of human and many other key species.
4) One specific type of nany with the ability to manipulate it's directional opacity provided for a mechanism clouds of nanys to regulate the Earth's weather. The mean terrestrial temperature has been reduced by 4 degrees since your departure.
5) The completion of the 5th beanstalk in Kiribati in 2142 provided sufficient orbital lift capability that mass migrations off planet to the O'Neill habitats, Luna, Mars, the belt and the outer planets began shorly afterwords.
6) During this entire time span incremental breakthroughs in chaos engineering provided the understanding to model and restore terrestrial eco-systems to park like conditions.
Most of you will be concerned that your qualifications for employment are obsolete. While this is true, let be assure you that it is no cause for concern. First of all, no one in the Sol system needs to work unless they desire to do so. As you have now discovered goods and services in the Sol system are not acquired by any medium of exchange. What was called "money" no longer exists in any form as the nanys can manufacture any conceivable object on demand. However, most residents thru out the system do find some form of work fulfilling and over 98% are engaged in some employment. Should you find any field of employment that interests you, you can learn all the necessary skills for an apprentice position thru the link in a week or less. An increasing portion of Sol system population is currently engaged in arts and crafts. This form of employment now occupies over 50% of the population. I know you heard all of this yesterday at Up so forgive any boring repetition.
Sol-Synch has automatically granted all of you citizenship for the duration of your stay in system should that be for a short time or in perpetuity. More on that in two seminars tomorrow on the Sol-Synch democratic process and on Corporate Entities such as Eden-Earth.
I'm excited to tell you now of my own job. I'm one of the few thousand lucky people who currently have permanent residence planet-side. My job allows me Down residence and though any Sol-Synch citizen is welcome to come Down, most only come for brief visits.
I am, what would be called in your departure era, an ecologist. My actual title when such rarely used things come into play is Senior System Ecological Engineer for the Greater Grand Teton Area. It's located in the northwestern corner of what was Wyoming, U.S.A. My officious title is pretty pedantic. I think a much more accurate description would be gardener or steward. I am happy to be one of half a dozen workers in the Grand Tetons area.
As I said, I'm honored to have been selected to give you this briefing on the mores you'll be expected to follow while Down. Most of these involve mitigating interference with the control structures used downside and most are self evident. Firstly listen to the cautions given to you over the link. Don't kill, obstruct, or otherwise intentionally interfere with any life form. This includes things like swatting mosquitoes. For the first few days of your visit you will probably be bitten when you go outside in many areas. We are initially monitoring your blood chemistry thru the link. Some area's are fallow areas and you won't be allowed to enter them without prior approval. Some technological devices are proscribed in certain areas. As an example of this, my husband, who works in undersea engineering, is not permitted to use SONAR in several places even tho it would aid in his work. We think that it's most unlikely but should you choose to intentionally disregard link cautions the link will, depending on circumstances, prompt you to exit Down. We haven't had a case of forcible ejection for over 30 years.
While I was thinking of how to give this presentation on how we administrate Down, and why we do have some control restrictions, I concluded the best way would be to give you a journal of a typical day for me. This is my story for June 23rd, three days ago local time.
I began my day at 0700. Chandra, my husband, was already up and had made coffee for me. A quick kiss goodbye and he was off to work via telefactor. He's currently installing geothermal generators for the Eastern Pacific in the Marianas Trench. We're close enough that the machinery Moon, my husband, works with is not affected by lag and we're able to live at a nice location on Jenny Lake in the Tetons.
While I was in the kitchen for my coffee that morning, I noticed that a number of ants had exceeded the bounds of the desired attractor orbital and were crawling on my counter-top rather than scavinging at night on the floor. So I began my work day in my office by reprogramming the nanys I use to talk to the queen of the nearby ant mound. I instructed her via link to slightly adjust the amino acid ratios in her eggs. This caused the resulting workers to give a greater precedence to chem trails in the plane of the mound rather than chem trails in the up direction. By six that evening all of the ants had left the counter. Altogether this took about an hour and a half. I then uplinked the updated code to Sol-Synch. It will be then sent to a number of O'Neill habitats where it can be used as needed in their control systems.
I then ran my daily monitor survey looking for any indicators of out of constraint parameters thruout the Jackson Hole area. Most everything was well within acceptable constraints but there was a minor problem with bighorn sheep over-grazing several meadows to the southeast of Mt. Moran. About two hours modeling told me that this was likely related to a lightening strike that caused a 20 acre burn-off on Paintbrush Divide two months ago. Since it wasn't a fault in the control structures for the sheep, I didn't do anything to change the programming of their nanys. We prefer to use minimal technological interferance and completely organic controls whenever possible. This is why the burn had occurred in the first place. If you are at all familiar with chaotic systems, you will know that slight changes in initial conditions can cascade into unexpected consequences. This is not to say that chaotic systems are random, they're not. They still tend to stabilize around strange attractors. My task was to introduce the minimum control to re-stabilize the grazing of this particular herd of bighorn. I could have overlooked the over-grazing but we've been trying to reintroduce a spectacular extinct species of wild flower, the wood lily, to that area and I wanted to cut the possibility of seedlings or mature flowers being trampled by the sheep.
As I mentioned, the preferred method of our management program is to use organic controls. It's an art form as much as a science. I decided that the best option I had to stop the over-grazing was to introduce another predator into the area. This would thin the herd slightly and could also be used as an incentive for the herd to re-adjust its grazing pattern to the southwest where there was more forage available. It's quite common to use apex predators in this manner as they are generally more intelligent individually and easier to communicate with.
To this end I contacted an old friend. Felix is an eleven year old mountain lion whose range was centered 20 kilometers north of the area where the overgrazing had occurred. His ancestors were successfully re-introduced to the Grand Teton area around eighty years ago from frozen ARK stock. Felix had just finished siring two cubs with Felicity. Having an overlapping range with a nursing female would soon begin to cause problems anyway (as mountain lions tend to be solitary) so it was time to move him. I should mention at this point that, should you choose to visit our area, you can observe Felicity's cubs from an excellent maximal stealth vantage a quarter mile off the Whatever Ridge Trail. They are adorable and will remain with their mother in the area thruout the next year.
I contacted Felix thru the link. I found him napping in a shaded niche between three granite boulders about 4 kilometers from Felicity's den. I began with a link to his audio nerve. I told him I wanted him to move and gave the direction south. Cats are a quite independent family of creatures but quite capable of understanding simple verbal instructions. Felix was in a restless mood due partially to his instinct to move farther away from the den. Naturally, he balked at following instructions but I was quite ready for this. I used the nanys to stimulate hormone secretions in his brain increasing his desire to move while reinforcing the verbal connection to the direction south. I then triggered previously mapped brain areas that contained memories of our bonding sessions so that he associated these commands with a positive experience. For anyone interested in these bonding sessions feel free to join me this afternoon. I'm going to be working with a pair of black bear cubs in Paintbrush Canyon while their mother takes a siesta. I'll leave here for home via Epad at 15:00 and take a stealth lift into the canyon from there. The bonding session will finish around 17:30.
Around 11:30 on the day I'm describing I broke for lunch with Moon and a short nap for myself. At 14:00 we both went back to work. I checked to see that Felix was, indeed, traveling to the southwest. I linked with my assistant Josh Spears who was camping near Holly lake while gathering data for wood rat modeling and asked him to keep an eye out for Felix later that night.
Around 16:00 Moon and I took a tea break. At 16:30 we went for short hike past Hidden Falls and up Cascade Canyon. I noticed a large build up of downed aspen from beaver harvesting in the area and sent a link mail request to Josh that he look into that problem when he returned while I was here at Clark Down. Moon and I returned home about 18:30 for a light meal. We spent about 2 and a half hours in and interactive fantasy VR that we both enjoy. Around 22:00 I spent an hour analyzing the day's nany data and another half an hour uplinking all the results to Eden-Earth headquarters and to Sol-Synch. Then off to a good night's sleep. Which concludes the story of my day and my part of this seminar. I can't tell you how much I love my work and life. I assure you that such opportunities are available to each of you as are opportunities in larger, more human interactive projects such as my husbands.
Thank you for your attention during this presentation.I hope it's given you something of an overview on how our home planet is currently managed and hope you've enjoyed it. I'm now going to turn you over to my apprentice, Will Carol, for a brief question and answer period to be followed by lunch.
Again, on behalf of Eden Earth, welcome to paradise.
Welcome home.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Our Patriotic Duty
Our Patriotic Duty
On Dissent
Here it is again, that day when United States citizen's celebrate thumbing our nose at an insane British monarch (George the Third, talking about the British monarch not the one we had a few years ago, ended up standing in a corner of Winsor palace thinking he was a clock (according to one source)) . There will be parades and, of course, fireworks, cheerful explosions of color to light up night skies and make every red blooded American celebrate his independence. Sorry Canada, Mexico, Belize, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, Costa Rica and Panama did you think you were Americans?. Sorry everybody south of there - the only real America is North America. And as for you, Cuba, Haiti, Dominican Republic and all you little island folk, we don't even know what to make of you. We're talking about America here. So we will enjoy our Jingoistic celebration without a thought of you unless somebody mentions building a wall to keep you out and then we'll probably add a few gunshot wounds to our celebration.
Now, I do like an occasional fireworks display. Not so hot on parades because I don't like crowds, and I honor the memory of all the women and men who have given of themselves in service to try and protect this fragile edifice called democracy. Some of them were my closest friends and I think they would be horrified.
In the United States it is not only fragile, it is in grave danger. Should current trends continue calling ourselves a democracy will only be lying to ourselves. The so called "Patriot Act" is the most heinous piece of tyrannical legislation imposed on the U.S. citizenry since - well maybe ever. We can credit our George III and the cowardice of congress ("Those who exchange freedom for security deserve neither."- Ben Franklin -apocryphal ). Patriotism requires courage. There will always be crazies and laws are not going to get rid of them nor protect us from them. Only continuous, directed, cognizant empathy and education can do that. Those who exchange promises of security for freedom will get neither.
The recent supreme court decisions granting even further "rights" to corporations (the same ones which we bail out again and again with taxpayer money because no individual can be held accountable for corporate actions and who's CEOs sail golden parachutes to private luxury retirement) are Machiavellian (see NPR's article When Companies Became People. Facebook has censored ISIS and ABC is censoring an unpopular opinions so the writing is in the wind..Thanks be we still have (for now) that most American of rights: the Right of Dissent.
In my opinion It is far more patriotic to burn a flag than it is to wave one. Waving one is easy. Standing up in the face of mindless Jingoism to burn a flag in protest an outrageous (real or perceived) affront to democracy shows the courage of one's convictions. I don't think ABC should censor Tim Allen's attacks on liberals. I don't even think that Facebook should censor whatever the flavor of Islamic extremists for the week. Democracy at its very core requires dissent. It is more than a right, it is a duty. Are you listening NSA? Up yours!
I believe in the spirit of democracy. The power to govern ultimately resides in the hands of the people. We're going to make mistakes (like George the Third, ours not theirs) but it's still the best over-all form of governance that anybody's come up with and, if not in the United States, the idea will prevail. Dissent will see to it. Dissent is our patriotic duty.
Somebody famous once said "I may not agree with what you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it." That's the American spirit I'm going to be celebrating.
I believe in the spirit of democracy. The power to govern ultimately resides in the hands of the people. We're going to make mistakes (like George the Third, ours not theirs) but it's still the best over-all form of governance that anybody's come up with and, if not in the United States, the idea will prevail. Dissent will see to it. Dissent is our patriotic duty.
Somebody famous once said "I may not agree with what you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it." That's the American spirit I'm going to be celebrating.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Better GMAIL Management
I test a lot of programs and occasionally subscribe to newsletters or feeds. This results in a bunch of stuff I don't want to look at showing up in my gmail inbox. I recently discovered a neat trick around this that adds email aliases to gmail . You can use the alias addresses to auto filter incoming mail to various labels:
Official Gmail Blog: 2 hidden ways to get more from your Gmail address
Official Gmail Blog: 2 hidden ways to get more from your Gmail address
Monday, October 5, 2015
Politically Incorrect
Where I come from, being called "dude" was a double insult. A "dude" was a greenhorn likely to try & mount the wrong side of his horse. A male (I'm female) tourista wearing a cowboy hat. It was obvious that he was a tourista because his cowboy hat was clean and a real cowboy's seldom is. A "dude" was a "drugstore cowboy" I was miffed when someone called me a dude.
But, times have changed and so has society's lexicon. We've changed "disrespect" from a noun to a verb. Far worse in my mind, ignorant national newscasters have made "an historical occasion" instead of "a historical occasion" the accepted phrase. The guiding rule had been "an" before a noun beginning with a vowel and "a" before a noun beginning with a consonant. The letter "h" is a consonant. ( My English teachers would have been horrified.) English is a living language, not some static thing carved in stone.
The Japanese (those from Nippon) use to call Caucasians "gaijen" meaning "foreign devil". For westerners being offended would have disrupted commerce. During the era of the civil rights movement it became polite to call a Negro person "black". This was to avoid the slurs associated with the word "nigger". Negro is a the correct English word used by ethnologists to refer to a specific race. It comes from the Spanish "negra" (meaning black) as many of the Muslim Moors were dark skinned. Likewise, the confusion of Columbus gave us the confused racial name of "Indian" for the natives that he found in the Americas.
The black (negro) folks I know are not really black. They are various shades of chocolate brown. Actually, I'm not white. I'm sort of salmon pink. Imagine the Klu Klux Klan wearing pink sheets to their meetings! Personally, I think referring to the two main divisions of race in the United States as "chocolate" and "vanilla" would be rather cool. We could throw in "strawberry" and "butterscotch" to cover the whole field.
Don't get me started on "Native American". Oops, too late. I'm a native American. The flesh of my flesh came from America. The bones of my bones are made from the calcium of American soil. To disparage this in any way disconnects me from the environment in which I live (and we're beginning to see where that leads, aren't we?).
I used to try to refer to the peoples who's land the European settlers took as "first peoples" to try to show some respect but that's too big a mouthful. "Indian" (still use it occasionally as old habits die hard) doesn't show that respect and is totally confusing. After 400 years we should have come up with something better but then we in the United States are still using the size of some king's foot as our standard of measurement. As far as I know, name of the king is lost in antiquity. These days I try to remember to change the "Indian" misnomer to "Amerind". Intent seems to me to be the most element in referring to an ethic group and hopefully this is both meaningful and respectful.
I recently saw a public broadcast where a guest on an interview called out another guest for using the 60's term "black" to refer to an ethnicity. "You're supposed to say 'African American'". What complete bullsquat. This politically correct nonsense has gone too far. I had a friend who's ethnicity origin was Mexico. I called him a "chicano" as was the politically correct term at the time. "I AM not a chicano I'm a MEXCAN", was his response tho he was born in the US. Another friend of mixed Amerind & Spanish origin I frequently teased by calling a "wetback" referring to the idea that immigrants from the south often cross the border by swimming across the Rio Grande or the All-American Canal. He knew that I was well aware that his ancestors had settled nearby long before any Europeans had even explored the area. I was teasingly acknowledging that fact and showing appreciation for the contribution his culture had made to mine.
In some communities I have seen friends of all races affectionately referring to each other as "nigger" in the same vein as "dude" is often used today. No offense is meant. I'll start saying "African American" and "Asian American" when people start calling me an "European American". I'd much rather be actually correct than be politically correct.
I don't want to go around feeling offended when the person calling me a "dude" mean no offense. So, if I say something off the cuff that offends you, please ignore it. I hardly ever mean to offend anyone and if I do I can just about guarantee that you'll know it. And, I promise I won't take offense when someone calls me a "dude" or just about anything else that's in their personal lexicon.
Let's all be more civil to each other by making this promise to ourselves: "Don't take offense where none is meant". To do so not only hurts ourselves, it's just plain silly.
And, always be sure to - "smile when you say that, stranger."
But, times have changed and so has society's lexicon. We've changed "disrespect" from a noun to a verb. Far worse in my mind, ignorant national newscasters have made "an historical occasion" instead of "a historical occasion" the accepted phrase. The guiding rule had been "an" before a noun beginning with a vowel and "a" before a noun beginning with a consonant. The letter "h" is a consonant. ( My English teachers would have been horrified.) English is a living language, not some static thing carved in stone.
The Japanese (those from Nippon) use to call Caucasians "gaijen" meaning "foreign devil". For westerners being offended would have disrupted commerce. During the era of the civil rights movement it became polite to call a Negro person "black". This was to avoid the slurs associated with the word "nigger". Negro is a the correct English word used by ethnologists to refer to a specific race. It comes from the Spanish "negra" (meaning black) as many of the Muslim Moors were dark skinned. Likewise, the confusion of Columbus gave us the confused racial name of "Indian" for the natives that he found in the Americas.
The black (negro) folks I know are not really black. They are various shades of chocolate brown. Actually, I'm not white. I'm sort of salmon pink. Imagine the Klu Klux Klan wearing pink sheets to their meetings! Personally, I think referring to the two main divisions of race in the United States as "chocolate" and "vanilla" would be rather cool. We could throw in "strawberry" and "butterscotch" to cover the whole field.
Don't get me started on "Native American". Oops, too late. I'm a native American. The flesh of my flesh came from America. The bones of my bones are made from the calcium of American soil. To disparage this in any way disconnects me from the environment in which I live (and we're beginning to see where that leads, aren't we?).
I used to try to refer to the peoples who's land the European settlers took as "first peoples" to try to show some respect but that's too big a mouthful. "Indian" (still use it occasionally as old habits die hard) doesn't show that respect and is totally confusing. After 400 years we should have come up with something better but then we in the United States are still using the size of some king's foot as our standard of measurement. As far as I know, name of the king is lost in antiquity. These days I try to remember to change the "Indian" misnomer to "Amerind". Intent seems to me to be the most element in referring to an ethic group and hopefully this is both meaningful and respectful.
I recently saw a public broadcast where a guest on an interview called out another guest for using the 60's term "black" to refer to an ethnicity. "You're supposed to say 'African American'". What complete bullsquat. This politically correct nonsense has gone too far. I had a friend who's ethnicity origin was Mexico. I called him a "chicano" as was the politically correct term at the time. "I AM not a chicano I'm a MEXCAN", was his response tho he was born in the US. Another friend of mixed Amerind & Spanish origin I frequently teased by calling a "wetback" referring to the idea that immigrants from the south often cross the border by swimming across the Rio Grande or the All-American Canal. He knew that I was well aware that his ancestors had settled nearby long before any Europeans had even explored the area. I was teasingly acknowledging that fact and showing appreciation for the contribution his culture had made to mine.
In some communities I have seen friends of all races affectionately referring to each other as "nigger" in the same vein as "dude" is often used today. No offense is meant. I'll start saying "African American" and "Asian American" when people start calling me an "European American". I'd much rather be actually correct than be politically correct.
I don't want to go around feeling offended when the person calling me a "dude" mean no offense. So, if I say something off the cuff that offends you, please ignore it. I hardly ever mean to offend anyone and if I do I can just about guarantee that you'll know it. And, I promise I won't take offense when someone calls me a "dude" or just about anything else that's in their personal lexicon.
Let's all be more civil to each other by making this promise to ourselves: "Don't take offense where none is meant". To do so not only hurts ourselves, it's just plain silly.
And, always be sure to - "smile when you say that, stranger."
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Diplomacy (Tales of the Blue Mountains)
DIPLOMACY
CHAPTER1
Solomon Ironshovel was worried. The meeting at the Blue Mountain Gilt hall had broken up with himself having been elected to seek out Torgul Moosesmasher. Torgul the giant was not to be trifled with. Any one who could lay a moose out cold with a single blow from his fist was not to be trifled with, especially when the motive was to simply keep the moose from snacking on Torgul's turnip crop. If Torgul could do that, who knew what he could do to the representative of the dwarves who came to complain about Torgul's cousin Lann.
But...something had to be done. The Blue Mountain miners just couldn't let Lann go around eating people. Not even if it was that jackass, Wearlon Orescomb.It was bad enough when Lann took a rock the size of two dwarves and broke the back of one of the towns ewes and ate it. It was worse when Lann caved in the head of Muriel Southlans prized milk goat and ate it. Muriel was nearly despondent that she'd no longer be able to make her Blue Mountain cheese, and its true that it would be missed from many a village table this next year.
Nevertheless the dwarves weren't ready to go to war with the giants over the two incidents. After all, sheep and goats could be replaced and, in the end, it was Muriel who made her cheese so delicious not her goat. Killing and eating people was another matter altogether. Lann couldn't be allowed to eat people even as stupid as Wearlon. Not even if it meant war with the giant's. It would a foolish dwarf indeed who didn't recognize that such a course of action would be costly for the dwarves. Yet it had nearly come to that.
First, though, it might just be possible to pursuade Lann's cousin Torgul to restrain him. Preferably with strong chains.Since Solomon had actually met Torgul once when he was prospecting on Fletcher's peak for elven mithril and since Solomon remarked at the guild meeting that Torgul seemed congenial enough, Torgul even offering to share his lunch of roast buzzard cold cuts, Solomon was elected to be the dwarves ambassador.
"Serves myself right for opening my mouth," he thought. "On the other hand, I am one of the guilds most eloquent members.But Gretta will not be pleased. Surely she will not."
"Solomon, give me some peace. As if it isn't bad enough you go traipsing all over the mountain looking for giant trouble but you want me to pack you a lunch for two? One that's actually big enough to feed five men. Are you out of your mind? Have you some kind of bet going with Lemus again? An experiment to see if exhaustion kills me before worry?"
In the end though every dwarf knows that it is the nature of some unpleasent things to demand doing and putting them off just makes them more unpleasent. In the end Greta relented. Though she refused to let a dead buzzard into their digs much less cook it.
So the following morning the sun coming up over the trees on broken teeth ridge saw a stoic Greta biting her lip to put on a brave face as Solomon hefted a lunch heavier than his normal prospecting gear (shovel, pick, hammer, chisel, blasting powder and a regular dwarf size lunch big enough for two humans) over his shoulder and set out up the hill towards Tooth Gap.
CHAPTER 2
It was nearly ten when Solomon gazed back from the top of the ridge to see the curling blue smoke from the village filling the valley with a pleasent veil of haze. Another two hours through Tooth Gap, and down into the next valley to Thunderson's Ford. Just a mile beyond that an hour's walk along Wild Cherry Creek would bring him to the edge of Torgul's turnip patch.
Solomon thought of the worried look on Greta's face and shruged off the sense of forebodeing that tried to crawl up the back of his neck. He combed the crumbs of his mid-morning snack (one of Greta's honey rolls) from his beard - after all, a diplomat should look dapper- and shoudered the pack that still contained the vast lunch prepared in hopes of catching Torgul before he ate. A hungry giant was one amenable to persuasion.
Solomons First Principle of diplomacy - negotiate when your counterpart has a full plate.
"Still," he thought as he started down the trail towards the towering stone monoliths of the Incisors, "if I haven't found Torgul by the time I've reached Thunderson's Ford, I'm going to stop and have half a mutton sandwich and one of Greta's strawberry carmel cakes with a pint." As second only to a dwarves taste for ale typically comes a sweet tooth, he was still thinking about Greta's cakes when Tooth Gap came into sight between the two towering Incisors. Strangely, the Gap seemed plugged with something. Solomon squinted a moment before he realized that it was the object of his mission. Torgul himself was pulling a gigantic cart towards him.
Now it can truly be said that dwarves voices are disproportionate to their size. In fact, like the agressiveness of dogs,they may well be inversely proportionate. So , when Solomon let out a "Halloo," down the valley, Solomon was confident that the giant heard him. ( he was first base in the chanters at the town's Hall of the Makers Respect - still George Granitemover's basso- profundo - now there was a Voice!)
"I brought lunch - meanin' to look ye up."
"Hyo, Ironshovel - that you? Brought lunch ye say? What brung ye?"
Knowing full well that initial bargaining positions are crucial in any negotiation, Solomon chose to interpret 'what brung ye' as a question about the lunch rather than his reasons for being there;
"Gretta packed a mess of victuals - all I know for sure is there's at least half a dozen cold mutton sandwichs with persimmon chutney. But that's less'n half of it."
"Mutton ye say? Tas' been a dragon's life since I had me a good slice 'o mutton. What's to drink?"
"Well, see'n as how I did'nt figure to catch ye till I was up past Thunderson's Ford I thought we'd have ourselves cold dipper - now I don't know - got any ideas?
The volume of the shouted conversation dimenished a the two men closed the distance between each other. As Torgul approached Solomon could see that Torgul's cart was full of boulders, each bigger than Solomon was.
"I was goin to take this load of rocks up Coney meadow and build me a coney pen but that can wait. Yes, sir I do have an idea. I have a right fine idea. Can't think of anything better than having a pint or two of Thunderbrew ale with that mutton.
Let me leave my little wagon here an I'll buy ye some 'o the best brew on the whole of Blue Mountain."
Solomon paused for a moment. Torgul was no dummy. Whatever Solomon had come about it would be his advantage to talk in Thunderson's Tavern owned, run, and frequented by the giants in and around Thunderson's Ford. It would be bearding the lion in his den. Still, Thunderbrew was as famous on the mountain as Muriel Southlan's cheese. It could put hair in a man's ears.
"Here, let me help ye with that,"said Torgul grabbing the backpack stuffed with Gretta's lunch in one massive hand thereby dangling Solomon from the straps 'til he could get them off.
"Mutton sandwiches with Thunderbrew. And persimmon chutney! Did your wife make dessert?"
"She always does", grimaced Solomon as he pulled his shoulder back into its socket.
So, with trepedation modified by anticipation the dwarf followed after the giant as he turned back the way he came and strode off purposefully towards Thunderson's Ford.
CHAPTER 3
Solomon had managed to keep the giant within sight for most of the walk to the Ford. It was only for the last ten minutes that he'd lost him. Still it was a bit of a surprise to see Torgul sitting at a table. in the tavern with two untouched pints and the still unopened pack before him. The giant had will. Solomon doubted that he would have been able to wait that patiently with Gretta's food and good ale set before him.
"Well come on thare Ironshovel, them runty little legs of yourn given you trouble? Well come on anyway, my apatite tai'nt gettin any smaller."
It seemed to Solomon as if a hush came over the tavern, as if every ear was listening to his reply.
"'Oxsmasher, we dwarves are tough. We take on two or more of you slow folk all the time - why di you think we invented dwarf tossing anyway?"
Any hush there was disintegrated in howls of laughter. Someone yelled over to their table "Hey Torgul, this'ns under the game warden's size limit, you'll have to throw him back"
Torgul stood up and grabbed Solomon by the collar and sat him down next to him. "Kairn Bearcatcher ya know well I AM the games keeper herebouts. This here's Solomon Ironshovel, boys. He's sought me out with mutton sandwiches and I'm right curious bout what he has to say. Oh, an if any of you try to horn in on this mans lunch all of you just remember he could only bring as much as a dwarves pack can carry."
"No offense Torgul, Yer eatin a fine lunch today. I was jus hopen if ya did throw him back it might be my direction so I could get me some of it," replied the Kairn.
"Yeah sorta like dwarf tossen'.," yelled a third giant and again the room broke up in howls of laughter again.
"Resolve," Solomon thought to himself. "I need as much resolve as Ironfist Giantsbreaker at the battle of Berkney's Pass if I'm to come thru this. Strength alone will seldom win the battle. I need only wait for the right moment."
"Now boys, none 'o that talk. I know factual that the game warden looks mighty stern on dwarf tossin them bein' an endangered species herebouts.
"We leave you to your lunch then, Torgul. From now on I've a mind to call ye Torgul Luckystomach. An a welcome to ye , Ironshovel."
Solomon breathed an inner sigh of relief and thought to himself:
Solomon's Second Principle of Diplomacy - get your opposite laughing.
"Well open er up thar, Solomon. I'm a anxious as a cow three days unmilked to see what yer wife packed yer," Torgul said as he rammed one of the giant size mugs of Thunderbrew into Solomon 's hand and took a kitchen sink sized swallow out of the mug in his other.
Solomon set the mug in front of him long enough to empty the contents of his back pack onto the table and sat back and took a long comfortable draught of his ale. For the next twenty minutes little was said between the two men beyond brief comments between bites as they dug into their tucker. "Them pickled griffion's eggs sure is good." "These spiced liver pies are just about my favorite, Torgul - sure glad Greta packed a couple.""No sir you just can't make a better mutton sandwich than drake toasted oat bread."
Finally the hoard of food on the board had diminished to just two sandwiches, a daintily wrapped smaller mound that was obviously dessert and a large wrapped wedge that was obviously cheese.
"Last two sandwiches are yours and it looks like Greta fixed us a package of grundleberry cake for a sweet finish."
Torgul sat back in he's chair, belched appreciatively, and nodded towards the wedge of cheese with a question on his face,Solomon nodded back."That's part o what I came to find you for," he said cutting off a slice and passing it to the giant. "This is Muriel Southlans' cheese but she won't be makin' any more this year."
Torgul took a bite. "An now we come to it dwarf." He wolfed down the rest of the slice an held hs massive hand out for a second. "Why won't the lady be makin' any more o this mighty fine cheese?"
"It's your cousin Lann. He killed Muriel's goat and ate it.
It was evident that the tavern still had half an ear on their conversation as Solomon disgruntled mutterings including "Lann Loudbellow - Lann the Loon is more like it. "
"That's not the worst of it, Torgul. He ate our mine's metals production accountant, Wearlon Orescomb. Orescomb won't be missed as much as Muriel's goat but we can't just let our citizens be eaten."
"I figured it was something like that, but what do you expect me to do about it? After all he is a giant and my cousin to boot. Can't really see anything to do about it when all he did was et a dwarf that's not much liked."
Torgul's eyes were glued to the package of Grundleberry cake like a cat stalking a mouse. Solomon's eyes were glued to Torgul. "Bless Greta," he thought." I think she's hooked him for me." Solomon sat back in his chair and pulled his tobacco pipe and pouch out. Solomon took his time fiddling with the pipe and tobacco, packing the bowl with an aromatic mixture then repacking it. He waved his tobacco pouch in Torgul's direction but Torgul nodded no, eyes fixed in anticipation of Gretta's desert.
Solomon's Third Principle - always hold something in your bargaining that you know your counterpert wants.
Finally Rocking his chair back from the table and lighting the pipe, he said, "well, we dwarves have got to do something. We just can't let ourselves get eaten.
Chapter 4
It is not clear why goats figure into the affairs of the dwarves so prominently but clearly, they do. Some sociologists have speculated that the root of the affinity lies in the fact that goats and dwarves are both mountain dwellers. Another race might find the popular theory among humans and giants -that it was because the dwarves look so much like goats - to be offensive. The dwarves were not offended. As the great dwarf sage, Tailbeard Deepthinker put it, "It's just a waste of time being offended."
In any case what is clear is that the first war between giants and dwarves was precipitated by a goat. A goat owned by Smit Temperfire ate a pumpkin grown by Hammerfist Rockcrusher. Contrary to popular belief, giants are mostly vegetarian (tho they do have a particular weakness for strong mutton). Rockcrusher prized his pumpkin.
Legend has it that when Rockcrusher sought reparations, 3' 8 '' Temperfire rudely spit in 8 ' 3 '' Ironfist's face. Rockcrusher's road clearing crew took offense to this. They concluded that turnabout was fair play so they ate the goat
War ensued.
The dwarves lost the war. In 1247 the hastily erected fortifications of General of Engineering Steelthumb finally turned back the berserking giants at Kassarole Pass. The war had cost both sides sorely. Many giants and dwarves went to their Valhallas. Others were wounded to deep to ever recover. The dwarves lost three quarters of their lands in the rich Hidden Valley agricultural district. The Temperfire clan lost all the holdings they had. In a generation, no one claimed to be a Temperfire any more.
The giants and the dwarves fought a number of wars over the following millenium. In 3142 Common Era during the Second War of Falling River berserking Colonel Angerhard, doubly enraged at the death of his brother from a dwarf ballista (the giants generally considered the use of projectile weapons cowardly), broke through 700 dwarf infantry to kill Gilt Meister Frugal. It was the only major war in which a dwarf king was killed in battle.
Over the centuries fewer and fewer major victories were won by either side. Slowly the two races had learned that it was better for all to resolve their differences peacably. In the last major war with the dwarves and giants they fought side by side as allies against the Souless and their commander the Legion of Chaos (Legion being the souless commanders first name). The nightmare entity that was the Legion, sometimes male, sometimes female,sometimes one being, sometimes many had only been defeated thru terrible sacrifices by all of Mitera and relations between the two races had been cemented on a friendly basis.
Solomon had acquired a nasty scar over his left eye in the Chaos War while operating the steam seige drill that finally breached the Souless' fortress gaurding the gate thru the Dragon's Spine. It had taken him 3 months of staring into a special violet scrying crystal while Medine Mender applied poltices before he regained his vision in that eye. Torgul's wife had lost an arm when the Souless Sorcerors called a gigantic rock out of the sky onto the city of Denholm utterly destroying it and over a hundred thousand persons.
As Solomon sat puffing his pipe he contemplated the bond between giant and dwarf that had been forged in blood and fire. Although the scar over his eye often itched that was not the reason he reached up to scratch it furiously.
Solomon's Fourth Principle of Diplomacy - always remind them of the reasons for negotiation.
Negotiated settlements were a lot less costly than wars.
It seemed as if half an hour passed with Solomon sitting and puffing his pipe. The bar was strangely hushed in anticipation. Torgul's eyes were fixed to the cake as if to bore a hole inthe package. In actuality it was only a few moments before he tore his eyes away from the cake to fix them just as intently on Solomon.
This was the moment Solomon had been waiting for. This was the moment Solomon had been dreading. It was the moment to bring out his final gambit.
"You know, before her goat was eaten, Muriel said she was considering selling some of her cheese here at the Ford. Said she thought it might do right well here. Said it would give a chance to hire some large folk to build her a stone fence around some of her north pasture and shore up her chiminey 'fore next winter."
Soloman's Fifth Principle of Diplomacy - make the first offer to give away something the adversary wants.
"You're right little feller. Lann has gotten clear outta hand. We can't
let him go around eating our good neighbors."
Murmers of assent were heard around the bar. "Idiot's lot more trouble than he's worth."" Caus'in way too much trouble, he has." "Tain't right havin' the country lookin askin at us." "Bad for trade if you ask me." "We got our reputations to think of." "People going to think we're as bad as those trolls." "I say something has to be done."
Torgul kept his eyes locked on Solomon. "I can't countenance him being put down Solomon. After all, he is my cousin," he said in a clear voice loud enough to be heard by the rest of the bar.
"I've got some ideas on that Torgul. Why don't we talk on them over cake."
Torgul and Solomon both broke out in grins.
Solomon's Sixth Principle - celebrate every agreement.
That evening a worried Greta broke into a relieved smile as she spotted Solomon coming down the hill from tooth gap. He was wearing his stern poker face which always meant good news (one of the reasons she took every opportunity to disuade him from playin cartes). She didn't even mind when he announced that a delegation of dwarves was expected at the Ford in two days and that she would be poviding the refreshments.
So, two days latter a a group of dwarves led by Solomon hammered out an agreement with the group of giants. The hammered out agreement was nailed onto a monstrous boulder that had previously blocked easy passage to one of Muriel's goat pastures and the a group of giants moved it just outside Lan's hovel. The next night after Lan finished his customary evening routine of drink until you passout, dwarf forged steel chain was locked around his ankle and bolted to the rock.
The following morning a bellowing Lan woke to a festival of dwarves and giant's gathered just outside chain's reach around the Penal rock. Musicians competed for the best tune to match Kan's howls. Ale flowed while trade and further diplomatic agreements were discussed. Well before evening all the parties except Lan had agreed to meet at the boulder the following year. Thus was the Great Convocation born based, of course, on Solomon's Sixth Principle of Diplomacy - celebrate every agreement.
CHAPTER1
Solomon Ironshovel was worried. The meeting at the Blue Mountain Gilt hall had broken up with himself having been elected to seek out Torgul Moosesmasher. Torgul the giant was not to be trifled with. Any one who could lay a moose out cold with a single blow from his fist was not to be trifled with, especially when the motive was to simply keep the moose from snacking on Torgul's turnip crop. If Torgul could do that, who knew what he could do to the representative of the dwarves who came to complain about Torgul's cousin Lann.
But...something had to be done. The Blue Mountain miners just couldn't let Lann go around eating people. Not even if it was that jackass, Wearlon Orescomb.It was bad enough when Lann took a rock the size of two dwarves and broke the back of one of the towns ewes and ate it. It was worse when Lann caved in the head of Muriel Southlans prized milk goat and ate it. Muriel was nearly despondent that she'd no longer be able to make her Blue Mountain cheese, and its true that it would be missed from many a village table this next year.
Nevertheless the dwarves weren't ready to go to war with the giants over the two incidents. After all, sheep and goats could be replaced and, in the end, it was Muriel who made her cheese so delicious not her goat. Killing and eating people was another matter altogether. Lann couldn't be allowed to eat people even as stupid as Wearlon. Not even if it meant war with the giant's. It would a foolish dwarf indeed who didn't recognize that such a course of action would be costly for the dwarves. Yet it had nearly come to that.
First, though, it might just be possible to pursuade Lann's cousin Torgul to restrain him. Preferably with strong chains.Since Solomon had actually met Torgul once when he was prospecting on Fletcher's peak for elven mithril and since Solomon remarked at the guild meeting that Torgul seemed congenial enough, Torgul even offering to share his lunch of roast buzzard cold cuts, Solomon was elected to be the dwarves ambassador.
"Serves myself right for opening my mouth," he thought. "On the other hand, I am one of the guilds most eloquent members.But Gretta will not be pleased. Surely she will not."
"Solomon, give me some peace. As if it isn't bad enough you go traipsing all over the mountain looking for giant trouble but you want me to pack you a lunch for two? One that's actually big enough to feed five men. Are you out of your mind? Have you some kind of bet going with Lemus again? An experiment to see if exhaustion kills me before worry?"
In the end though every dwarf knows that it is the nature of some unpleasent things to demand doing and putting them off just makes them more unpleasent. In the end Greta relented. Though she refused to let a dead buzzard into their digs much less cook it.
So the following morning the sun coming up over the trees on broken teeth ridge saw a stoic Greta biting her lip to put on a brave face as Solomon hefted a lunch heavier than his normal prospecting gear (shovel, pick, hammer, chisel, blasting powder and a regular dwarf size lunch big enough for two humans) over his shoulder and set out up the hill towards Tooth Gap.
CHAPTER 2
It was nearly ten when Solomon gazed back from the top of the ridge to see the curling blue smoke from the village filling the valley with a pleasent veil of haze. Another two hours through Tooth Gap, and down into the next valley to Thunderson's Ford. Just a mile beyond that an hour's walk along Wild Cherry Creek would bring him to the edge of Torgul's turnip patch.
Solomon thought of the worried look on Greta's face and shruged off the sense of forebodeing that tried to crawl up the back of his neck. He combed the crumbs of his mid-morning snack (one of Greta's honey rolls) from his beard - after all, a diplomat should look dapper- and shoudered the pack that still contained the vast lunch prepared in hopes of catching Torgul before he ate. A hungry giant was one amenable to persuasion.
Solomons First Principle of diplomacy - negotiate when your counterpart has a full plate.
"Still," he thought as he started down the trail towards the towering stone monoliths of the Incisors, "if I haven't found Torgul by the time I've reached Thunderson's Ford, I'm going to stop and have half a mutton sandwich and one of Greta's strawberry carmel cakes with a pint." As second only to a dwarves taste for ale typically comes a sweet tooth, he was still thinking about Greta's cakes when Tooth Gap came into sight between the two towering Incisors. Strangely, the Gap seemed plugged with something. Solomon squinted a moment before he realized that it was the object of his mission. Torgul himself was pulling a gigantic cart towards him.
Now it can truly be said that dwarves voices are disproportionate to their size. In fact, like the agressiveness of dogs,they may well be inversely proportionate. So , when Solomon let out a "Halloo," down the valley, Solomon was confident that the giant heard him. ( he was first base in the chanters at the town's Hall of the Makers Respect - still George Granitemover's basso- profundo - now there was a Voice!)
"I brought lunch - meanin' to look ye up."
"Hyo, Ironshovel - that you? Brought lunch ye say? What brung ye?"
Knowing full well that initial bargaining positions are crucial in any negotiation, Solomon chose to interpret 'what brung ye' as a question about the lunch rather than his reasons for being there;
"Gretta packed a mess of victuals - all I know for sure is there's at least half a dozen cold mutton sandwichs with persimmon chutney. But that's less'n half of it."
"Mutton ye say? Tas' been a dragon's life since I had me a good slice 'o mutton. What's to drink?"
"Well, see'n as how I did'nt figure to catch ye till I was up past Thunderson's Ford I thought we'd have ourselves cold dipper - now I don't know - got any ideas?
The volume of the shouted conversation dimenished a the two men closed the distance between each other. As Torgul approached Solomon could see that Torgul's cart was full of boulders, each bigger than Solomon was.
"I was goin to take this load of rocks up Coney meadow and build me a coney pen but that can wait. Yes, sir I do have an idea. I have a right fine idea. Can't think of anything better than having a pint or two of Thunderbrew ale with that mutton.
Let me leave my little wagon here an I'll buy ye some 'o the best brew on the whole of Blue Mountain."
Solomon paused for a moment. Torgul was no dummy. Whatever Solomon had come about it would be his advantage to talk in Thunderson's Tavern owned, run, and frequented by the giants in and around Thunderson's Ford. It would be bearding the lion in his den. Still, Thunderbrew was as famous on the mountain as Muriel Southlan's cheese. It could put hair in a man's ears.
"Here, let me help ye with that,"said Torgul grabbing the backpack stuffed with Gretta's lunch in one massive hand thereby dangling Solomon from the straps 'til he could get them off.
"Mutton sandwiches with Thunderbrew. And persimmon chutney! Did your wife make dessert?"
"She always does", grimaced Solomon as he pulled his shoulder back into its socket.
So, with trepedation modified by anticipation the dwarf followed after the giant as he turned back the way he came and strode off purposefully towards Thunderson's Ford.
CHAPTER 3
Solomon had managed to keep the giant within sight for most of the walk to the Ford. It was only for the last ten minutes that he'd lost him. Still it was a bit of a surprise to see Torgul sitting at a table. in the tavern with two untouched pints and the still unopened pack before him. The giant had will. Solomon doubted that he would have been able to wait that patiently with Gretta's food and good ale set before him.
"Well come on thare Ironshovel, them runty little legs of yourn given you trouble? Well come on anyway, my apatite tai'nt gettin any smaller."
It seemed to Solomon as if a hush came over the tavern, as if every ear was listening to his reply.
"'Oxsmasher, we dwarves are tough. We take on two or more of you slow folk all the time - why di you think we invented dwarf tossing anyway?"
Any hush there was disintegrated in howls of laughter. Someone yelled over to their table "Hey Torgul, this'ns under the game warden's size limit, you'll have to throw him back"
Torgul stood up and grabbed Solomon by the collar and sat him down next to him. "Kairn Bearcatcher ya know well I AM the games keeper herebouts. This here's Solomon Ironshovel, boys. He's sought me out with mutton sandwiches and I'm right curious bout what he has to say. Oh, an if any of you try to horn in on this mans lunch all of you just remember he could only bring as much as a dwarves pack can carry."
"No offense Torgul, Yer eatin a fine lunch today. I was jus hopen if ya did throw him back it might be my direction so I could get me some of it," replied the Kairn.
"Yeah sorta like dwarf tossen'.," yelled a third giant and again the room broke up in howls of laughter again.
"Resolve," Solomon thought to himself. "I need as much resolve as Ironfist Giantsbreaker at the battle of Berkney's Pass if I'm to come thru this. Strength alone will seldom win the battle. I need only wait for the right moment."
"Now boys, none 'o that talk. I know factual that the game warden looks mighty stern on dwarf tossin them bein' an endangered species herebouts.
"We leave you to your lunch then, Torgul. From now on I've a mind to call ye Torgul Luckystomach. An a welcome to ye , Ironshovel."
Solomon breathed an inner sigh of relief and thought to himself:
Solomon's Second Principle of Diplomacy - get your opposite laughing.
"Well open er up thar, Solomon. I'm a anxious as a cow three days unmilked to see what yer wife packed yer," Torgul said as he rammed one of the giant size mugs of Thunderbrew into Solomon 's hand and took a kitchen sink sized swallow out of the mug in his other.
Solomon set the mug in front of him long enough to empty the contents of his back pack onto the table and sat back and took a long comfortable draught of his ale. For the next twenty minutes little was said between the two men beyond brief comments between bites as they dug into their tucker. "Them pickled griffion's eggs sure is good." "These spiced liver pies are just about my favorite, Torgul - sure glad Greta packed a couple.""No sir you just can't make a better mutton sandwich than drake toasted oat bread."
Finally the hoard of food on the board had diminished to just two sandwiches, a daintily wrapped smaller mound that was obviously dessert and a large wrapped wedge that was obviously cheese.
"Last two sandwiches are yours and it looks like Greta fixed us a package of grundleberry cake for a sweet finish."
Torgul sat back in he's chair, belched appreciatively, and nodded towards the wedge of cheese with a question on his face,Solomon nodded back."That's part o what I came to find you for," he said cutting off a slice and passing it to the giant. "This is Muriel Southlans' cheese but she won't be makin' any more this year."
Torgul took a bite. "An now we come to it dwarf." He wolfed down the rest of the slice an held hs massive hand out for a second. "Why won't the lady be makin' any more o this mighty fine cheese?"
"It's your cousin Lann. He killed Muriel's goat and ate it.
It was evident that the tavern still had half an ear on their conversation as Solomon disgruntled mutterings including "Lann Loudbellow - Lann the Loon is more like it. "
"That's not the worst of it, Torgul. He ate our mine's metals production accountant, Wearlon Orescomb. Orescomb won't be missed as much as Muriel's goat but we can't just let our citizens be eaten."
"I figured it was something like that, but what do you expect me to do about it? After all he is a giant and my cousin to boot. Can't really see anything to do about it when all he did was et a dwarf that's not much liked."
Torgul's eyes were glued to the package of Grundleberry cake like a cat stalking a mouse. Solomon's eyes were glued to Torgul. "Bless Greta," he thought." I think she's hooked him for me." Solomon sat back in his chair and pulled his tobacco pipe and pouch out. Solomon took his time fiddling with the pipe and tobacco, packing the bowl with an aromatic mixture then repacking it. He waved his tobacco pouch in Torgul's direction but Torgul nodded no, eyes fixed in anticipation of Gretta's desert.
Solomon's Third Principle - always hold something in your bargaining that you know your counterpert wants.
Finally Rocking his chair back from the table and lighting the pipe, he said, "well, we dwarves have got to do something. We just can't let ourselves get eaten.
Chapter 4
It is not clear why goats figure into the affairs of the dwarves so prominently but clearly, they do. Some sociologists have speculated that the root of the affinity lies in the fact that goats and dwarves are both mountain dwellers. Another race might find the popular theory among humans and giants -that it was because the dwarves look so much like goats - to be offensive. The dwarves were not offended. As the great dwarf sage, Tailbeard Deepthinker put it, "It's just a waste of time being offended."
In any case what is clear is that the first war between giants and dwarves was precipitated by a goat. A goat owned by Smit Temperfire ate a pumpkin grown by Hammerfist Rockcrusher. Contrary to popular belief, giants are mostly vegetarian (tho they do have a particular weakness for strong mutton). Rockcrusher prized his pumpkin.
Legend has it that when Rockcrusher sought reparations, 3' 8 '' Temperfire rudely spit in 8 ' 3 '' Ironfist's face. Rockcrusher's road clearing crew took offense to this. They concluded that turnabout was fair play so they ate the goat
War ensued.
The dwarves lost the war. In 1247 the hastily erected fortifications of General of Engineering Steelthumb finally turned back the berserking giants at Kassarole Pass. The war had cost both sides sorely. Many giants and dwarves went to their Valhallas. Others were wounded to deep to ever recover. The dwarves lost three quarters of their lands in the rich Hidden Valley agricultural district. The Temperfire clan lost all the holdings they had. In a generation, no one claimed to be a Temperfire any more.
The giants and the dwarves fought a number of wars over the following millenium. In 3142 Common Era during the Second War of Falling River berserking Colonel Angerhard, doubly enraged at the death of his brother from a dwarf ballista (the giants generally considered the use of projectile weapons cowardly), broke through 700 dwarf infantry to kill Gilt Meister Frugal. It was the only major war in which a dwarf king was killed in battle.
Over the centuries fewer and fewer major victories were won by either side. Slowly the two races had learned that it was better for all to resolve their differences peacably. In the last major war with the dwarves and giants they fought side by side as allies against the Souless and their commander the Legion of Chaos (Legion being the souless commanders first name). The nightmare entity that was the Legion, sometimes male, sometimes female,sometimes one being, sometimes many had only been defeated thru terrible sacrifices by all of Mitera and relations between the two races had been cemented on a friendly basis.
Solomon had acquired a nasty scar over his left eye in the Chaos War while operating the steam seige drill that finally breached the Souless' fortress gaurding the gate thru the Dragon's Spine. It had taken him 3 months of staring into a special violet scrying crystal while Medine Mender applied poltices before he regained his vision in that eye. Torgul's wife had lost an arm when the Souless Sorcerors called a gigantic rock out of the sky onto the city of Denholm utterly destroying it and over a hundred thousand persons.
As Solomon sat puffing his pipe he contemplated the bond between giant and dwarf that had been forged in blood and fire. Although the scar over his eye often itched that was not the reason he reached up to scratch it furiously.
Solomon's Fourth Principle of Diplomacy - always remind them of the reasons for negotiation.
Negotiated settlements were a lot less costly than wars.
It seemed as if half an hour passed with Solomon sitting and puffing his pipe. The bar was strangely hushed in anticipation. Torgul's eyes were fixed to the cake as if to bore a hole inthe package. In actuality it was only a few moments before he tore his eyes away from the cake to fix them just as intently on Solomon.
This was the moment Solomon had been waiting for. This was the moment Solomon had been dreading. It was the moment to bring out his final gambit.
"You know, before her goat was eaten, Muriel said she was considering selling some of her cheese here at the Ford. Said she thought it might do right well here. Said it would give a chance to hire some large folk to build her a stone fence around some of her north pasture and shore up her chiminey 'fore next winter."
Soloman's Fifth Principle of Diplomacy - make the first offer to give away something the adversary wants.
"You're right little feller. Lann has gotten clear outta hand. We can't
let him go around eating our good neighbors."
Murmers of assent were heard around the bar. "Idiot's lot more trouble than he's worth."" Caus'in way too much trouble, he has." "Tain't right havin' the country lookin askin at us." "Bad for trade if you ask me." "We got our reputations to think of." "People going to think we're as bad as those trolls." "I say something has to be done."
Torgul kept his eyes locked on Solomon. "I can't countenance him being put down Solomon. After all, he is my cousin," he said in a clear voice loud enough to be heard by the rest of the bar.
"I've got some ideas on that Torgul. Why don't we talk on them over cake."
Torgul and Solomon both broke out in grins.
Solomon's Sixth Principle - celebrate every agreement.
That evening a worried Greta broke into a relieved smile as she spotted Solomon coming down the hill from tooth gap. He was wearing his stern poker face which always meant good news (one of the reasons she took every opportunity to disuade him from playin cartes). She didn't even mind when he announced that a delegation of dwarves was expected at the Ford in two days and that she would be poviding the refreshments.
So, two days latter a a group of dwarves led by Solomon hammered out an agreement with the group of giants. The hammered out agreement was nailed onto a monstrous boulder that had previously blocked easy passage to one of Muriel's goat pastures and the a group of giants moved it just outside Lan's hovel. The next night after Lan finished his customary evening routine of drink until you passout, dwarf forged steel chain was locked around his ankle and bolted to the rock.
The following morning a bellowing Lan woke to a festival of dwarves and giant's gathered just outside chain's reach around the Penal rock. Musicians competed for the best tune to match Kan's howls. Ale flowed while trade and further diplomatic agreements were discussed. Well before evening all the parties except Lan had agreed to meet at the boulder the following year. Thus was the Great Convocation born based, of course, on Solomon's Sixth Principle of Diplomacy - celebrate every agreement.
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