Council of War

Council of war: (n) any conference for discussing or deciding upon a course of action.

I don’t think we’ve ever come up with an adequate term to identify the tribes that inhabited the North American continent before the arrival of the European immigrants (of whom many were rapists, and I’m sure some of them were good…)funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Because of this, we have a huge chunk of history which is really nothing more than mystery. I hope you will agree with me that when history remains mystery, we are destined to fall under the spell of its mastery.


Because we don’t know any more than when we started, even though we have lots of information that’s available, our interest level is stunted.

So we call these tribes “Native Americans,” “Indians,” and of course, in the early days, just savages. It was easier to kill them off in large numbers when you considered them to be rogue beasts.

But from my limited well of understanding, I will tell you that these human beings who were here long before us, would hold their council of war while smoking a peace pipe. Yes—they would pass around some sort of early bong filled with God-knows-what, puff on it and chat before they decided to grab their clubs, tomahawks, or even guns, and traipse off, murdering.

I don’t know how many wars they may have avoided by becoming a bit more rosy in their thinking during one of these interludes of puffing.

But I wonder whether their white—and even tan, yellow and black—brothers and sisters might be better off holding their councils of war in a haze of cigar smoke, or even the whiff of magical plants, before making such a drastic decision—to throw down in conflict with other people, and purposely deplete the population in order to prove that your domain of the Earth is mightier?

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Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acute: (adj.) relating to a bad, difficult or unwelcome situation present or experienced to a severe degree: e.g. an acute housing shortage

Even though as a chauvinist nation, we refer to them as “drama queens,” there are certainly plenty of kings to go around, not to mention princes and princesses.

It seems to be fashionable–yes, that’s the word I would use–almost a cloak we wear, of feeling that we become more important by overstating our difficulties and over-emphasizing our struggles.

By no means am I suggesting that we should walk around in pain without seeking solace. I am not trying to insinuate that becoming a “John Wayne” type of character, with a bullet lodged in your shoulder as you continue to fight the Indians, is what is required in order to fall into the category of brave.

I just don’t think that everything that happens to us is cataclysmic or even necessarily worthy of a posting on Facebook.

In my own life, I fear that lamentation is a sad seeking in my soul–feeling sorry for myself instead of searching for resolution. For there are many problems people consider to be acute, which to me, sound not only solvable, but really, not even that difficult.

But if you play down somebody’s dilemma or try to eliminate their suffering with a quick fix, you will often be met with great resentment and anger.

So what is the best way to survive trials and tribulations without becoming whiny? There you go. There’s the quandary.

Because as much as we WANT to empathize with other human beings, we also want them to prove that they are part of our species by displaying a backbone and walking upright. See what I mean?

So I’ve come up with a little three-step process, which I think helps to keep me from becoming Billy Brat, who believes he’s being bullied by the earth around him.

1. Don’t think about your problems too long before you speak them out loud. I’ve never had a difficulty that lived in my brain which didn’t double in size every hour.

2. Be aware that there’s nothing new which hasn’t been experienced by somebody, so the solution may be embarrassingly easy. Of course we want to contend that our particular cross is unbearable, but usually it’s just a couple of sticks of wood.

3. Be prepared to have good cheer. Whether you end up laughing at your problem, giggling at the simplicity of the solution, or just LOL-ing at yourself for being so worried–humor is the only door of escape from stupidity.

I don’t think any of our problems are as acute as we think they are.

Maybe it’s because none of us are as cute as we think we are.