E.M.’s RWP~#293 quantitative- Overwhelm to Conquer

As hard as it is, for some, to imagine, human beings have several limitations on their ability to perceive their environment.
We have all known the phenomenon of our ‘eyes playing tricks’ on us. Deer hunters experience this constantly. They are searching for deer. Their brain is solving every visual image attempting to configure a deer or just a portion of one. Branches, at a glance, are antlers. Any bright or white flash of light is a flagging tail. And when their ears are tuned in, scurrying chipmunks in leaves are instantly recognized footsteps of one-hundred-pound deer. Hunters soon learn how unreliable first impressions can be from their senses jumping to comically foolish conclusions more often than accurate ones. Yet, the single focus of a hunter on that one single pursuit can eventually, with further investigation, produce success in what he’s seeking. Imagine if he were texting, jotting notes, and rehashing the argument with his wife the night before, as he’s hunting. His chances of doing any of those things well, are greatly reduced. This my friends shows how easily we can be overwhelmed. Human beings are excellent problem solvers if given the time and allowed to focus on one task at a time. I don’t make the rules but ignoring that those are the ‘rules’ our brains follow is ignorant and naive.
The central tenant in Rules for Radicals- a guidebook for forcing change in culture, society, and countries-is to overwhelm the system targeted for radical change. This quantitative assault is done by creating too many ‘troubles’ for people to solve, or even pay attention to, thus inspiring them to pack up their proverbial ‘hunting gear’ and ‘go home’. It’s an effective dehumanization tool which can disarm very large populations.
Now consider all of the ‘crisis’ themes we are currently being subjected to… Border Crisis, Energy Crisis, Climate Crisis, Pandemic Crisis, Homeless Crisis, Inflation Crisis, Racism Crisis, Crime Crisis, etc… this large quantity of proposed unsolvable troubles is not accidental.
How many of you know several people who claim they just stopped watching and caring about the ‘News’ for their own sanity? I can’t blame them on one level but their numbness and disconnect is a tool being used against all of us and our futures. Powerful totalitarian forces are undermining the traditional foundations of our country as so many have been lulled to ‘sleep’.
My advice to everyone is to ‘wake up’ and focus on the one thing that makes everything else we do possible … the preservation of our beloved country.

E.M.’s RWP-#266- stanchion- What I Learned from Cows

Children never recognize that their lives have blessings. There are experiences that we have that seem ordinary until we’re grown and reflect upon them.
As a child, I had the tremendous opportunity to hang around on my grandparent’s farm.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Not until later on, I realized, “No, Susan. Most have no idea about your experiences.”
One especially cool experience was observing old-fashioned milking time.
The cattle would wait beyond the barn door as they knew it was milking time. The doors were flung open, and they’d file in finding their own assigned spot among many. There was an open stanchion that they would stick their head through finding a measured amount of grain waiting. One of the chores was for someone to walk along beyond and snap each stanchion shut. This kept each cow still until the milking machine could be placed on her.
It was a while before I was tall enough and responsible enough to be the stanchion closer but when that happened, it was a rite of passage and confidence booster for this kid. Walking among 1200-pound beasts is alone a big deal so snapping that stanchion shut and patting each on the head like I owned the place was a super big deal.
None of the kids that I went to elementary school with had any idea about those extraordinary life experiences and watching them squeal at spiders or run from puppies soon made me appreciate my life.
My escapades with those cows were many. Some were smarter than others and tried to intimidate me. I learned a lot about asserting myself, hiding fear, and, of course, connecting with animals.

Someday, I’ll tell you about Suzette. She became my nemesis and her daughter Bambi carried on her legacy! But that’s another story…


E.M.’s RWP- #238 conscientious- When Clueless Goes Country

Dana stepped with an enthusiastic hop across the threshold of her new boutique. Bringing some big city flavor to the ‘rubes’ was an exciting venture.
The innovative idea was directly inspired by her great-grandmother who delightedly clapped when Dana had shown off her newest creations. Granny’s country roots obviously approved.

The boutique’s remote rural setting was stereotypically quaint. Ancient trees lined the Main Street location. For a town of only 6,500 residents, the shopping district was delightfully busy.
In her conscientious fashion, Dana displayed her ‘plainer’, more subtle, designs in the window saving the ‘good stuff’, with the most rhinestones, faux leather fringes, and multi-colored feathers, along the back wall.
Dana mused as she dressed a window manikin,
“We wouldn’t want to drive them off from culture shock, would we, Tiffany?”

The first few days were a BIG disappointment enticing only window shoppers who all turned away quickly as if assaulted by a bad odor. But, on the 5th day, at the same moment Dana had decided to ‘call it quits’, a large woman dressed in an obviously homemade gingham jumper dragged a spindle of a man by his collar through the entrance.
“Harley! This is the place I’ve been talkin’ about.”
Harley’s head rose above his stretched-out collar in a turtle-like maneuver, then he strolled back and forth making his way toward the back.

Dana didn’t want to appear too anxious; she knew that country people took longer to comprehend everything, so she quietly shadowed the couple.
“This is going to finally ‘break the ice’!” Dana thought as she pumped her fist.

When the prospective customers got to the back wall’s display, the ample woman folded her arms and bellowed, “THERE, look there you old fool! I told ya this is where our missing strongbox and livestock went!”.


E.M.’s RWP~# 232 before and after- Rebirth

In one convulsive second, when the crying infant still tethered to her by an umbilical cord was placed on her stomach, all her ‘befores‘ dissolved.
The child catching grasshoppers in the tall grass at her grandmother’s farm, the teenager with a crush on one of her teachers, and the woman picking flowers for centerpieces on her wedding day, were gone.

When her brand-new daughter was brought to her, all clean, perfect, and ready to nurse, their eyes met.
“Hello, Ellen. I can’t wait to get to know you.” she whispered.
She had no doubt that a blessed transformation had taken place and her life, from that moment forward, would wholly be defined by ‘afters‘.

E.M.’s RWP- #179 Massacre- Arming Good

Today’s Random Word is: massacre

No one denies that Evil exists
But some act surprised
And just shake their fists

Massacres happen when good is outnumbered
It’s always been true
When the ‘just’ are encumbered

We can fortify Good with equal brute force
Or shame the ‘soldiers’
And make matters worse

Tragedy’s cowardice cloaked in what’s ‘kind’
Battles aren’t won
From that soft state of mind

Self-importance inspires those prone to blame
But heroes get busy
Aren’t selfish nor vain.

The meek, oh so precious: none should be harmed
Massacre’s ordained
Whenever Good is disarmed.


E.M.’s RWP~#153 Largesse- Humble are the Homeless

Today’s Random Word is largesse.

Until last year, Tony wasn’t known for his largesse; he’d once been totally broke and homeless.
But today, helpless cries led him to a dumpster behind the laundromat where he swept up three abandoned kittens with flushed cheeks from anger and disgust. He’d vowed never to hesitate to help care for anyone homeless and kittens also counted.
At his home, minutes later, the three precious little creatures were greeted by a clowder of roommates.
“And three makes lucky thirteen.” murmured Tony with a grin.
His two-room apartment occupied the whole basement of a 4-story building. It was quite expansive, and cozy, with nary an unhappy resident. It was well furnished and tidy too.
First, Tony busied himself with fresh towels and a large plastic milk crate creating a cozy spot for Curley, Larry and Moe, while the others just furiously swished their tails in anticipation of mealtime. Only the frightened, desperate, mews of the newbies could be heard.
Tony hung his wear-worn coat on a nail near the entrance and rustled ten cans from one of many, overstuffed duffel bags along the wall.
Now, the air filled with anticipatory yowls and purrs. Each cat waited its turn and knew its place. A scene not often realized even in single cat homes! The formerly homeless highly value routine, order, and safety.
One by one, they lined up along the feeding station and ate their fill. Each then went to the farthest corner, in a partitioned furnace room, and relieved himself or herself in the well-maintained exceptionally clean boxes. They then found their favorite spot on a number of sofas, for a thorough contented tongue washing.

Tony warmed some special ‘kitty milk’ formula and easily encouraged his ‘Stooges’ to lap some supper. He’d call the vet tomorrow for a proper check-up, a neutering schedule, and a chance for a loving adoption.
Then he sat in his, somewhat disheveled recliner and opened a bottle of wine to go with his dinner salad.
Before he settled into bed, he removed and folded his clothing and placed his wallet on a dresser after extracting a large wad of cash and placing it in a sock he’d stash under his pillow.
A rap at the door interrupted his evening ritual. Donning a tattered robe, Tony opened the door and accepted a delivery of two bags of kitty litter, a cat toy, and 24 cans of cat food from his tenant on the 4th floor. It was the price he had set for a month’s rent. It was the same charge for each formerly homeless family in all six buildings he had purchased when he had won the lottery a year ago.


E.M.’s RWP- Discovery at Dusk

Today’s Random Word is: zipline

It was dusk and Gloria’s first camping experience was about to get ‘real’.
As I sat beside the campfire, the last pink wisps of light slipped beyond the distant hills. Gloria had been a ‘good sport’ all day. She’d helped carry firewood from the neatly stacked pile even though I warned her to watch for snakes beneath the tarp before she reached in. After a shudder, she asked me to look first and trusted my “all clear” prompt enough to help. Everything I took for granted she found foreign and frightening, yet she persevered.
The evening was warm, and still, so mosquitos lifted from the damp woods on either side of our open area. After lathering herself with bug repellent and dressing up in sweats, boots, and a broadbrimmed hat, Gloria plopped into the folding chair beside me.
She grinned as I handed her a coffee, “This isn’t so bad. I think I could get used to this ‘nature stuff’.”
Out of nowhere, several shadows dipped through the clearing as if on a zipline from one side to the other. Gloria froze until one came close enough to knock off her hat!
The screech she released must have been heard in the next county. Then she rose waving her arms, spilling her coffee in her lap and raced for the tent.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”, she howled from her ‘bunker’.
With coffee spilling from my nose because of my unrestrainable laughter, I could only squeak, “A bat.”
“A bat?! Those things are DANGEROUS! I’ll get rabies then you won’t be laughing!”
Once I was able to compose myself. I crawled into the tent and explained a few things about the truth of bats. I told her that they were just feeding on the bugs and were expert flyers. That they weren’t attacking her, and she wouldn’t get rabies.
It took a while, but Gloria came back to the campfire. She sat slumped (trying not to be a target) and watched the fine aerobatics of the bats with her mouth agape.
After we returned from our adventure, Gloria researched bats and became an advocate for them telling anyone who’d listen about them.
She started our trip as a ‘good sport’ and ended it as a ‘Good Samaritan’.

Here’s more on bats. They’re terribly misunderstood and fascinating, helpful, creatures.