Part Three: The, as yet, unfinished history of war

Published 9:53 am Thursday, July 23, 2015



Each tribe had all of the things that they needed and minimal awareness of any of the things that they did not have.

The Intolera Lactosians had forests of hardwoods and a preponderance of toilets. The forests provided wood for shelter, game for eating, and materials to construct a plethora of sanitation facilities. However, they did not know they lacked the mainstays of fruits, vegetables, hemp rope, and aged grape squeezings.

The Dairias Homogenus were a peaceful, enlightened, clan of vegetarians that sat around hemp rope fires, drinking aged grape juice, searching for the rules that govern us all. They had no sanitation or individual homes, nor did they see the need for it.

The Pisceseans had water power, open and flowing sewers, trout, and high real estate values. What they lacked was dry land on which to grow lumber for expanding the flotilla.

One fateful evening, a team of stealth Piscesean Swypers was caught dragging a felled mahogany trunk by a Lactosian hunting party. This irritated the already irritable Intolera Lactosians to no end. A poorly pitched battle ensued as the Lactosians yelled loudly and jumped up and down with obvious agitation. The Pisceseans dropped their log and ran for the river as fast as their sea legs could carry them, with the Lactosians in close pursuit (waving their arms and shouting newly created swear words).

The fleeing Pisceseans avoided the flotilla and crossed the river to the western shore. This was the earliest (and only) Piscesean military tactic ever recorded, known as the “Go Someplace Else to Get Beat Up — Don’t Bring Them Home to Beat Up the Rest of Us,” maneuver.

The wet, and fish smelling, Pisceseans swam ashore and ran directly into the Dairias Homogenus’ sacred Celebration of Rules. The Pisceseans were immediately followed by the equally wet, but not quite as fishy, Lactosians. Both tribes tore through the Sacred Celebration, knocking over tankards of grape squeezings and dousing the ceremonial hemp rope fire with their soggy sandals.

The usually placid Dairias Homogenus stumbled to their feet shouting, “Harsh. Harsh. Harsh,” and initiated a Keystonian chase, pursuing the two interloping tribes. The rule of “Don’t Harsh the Party” had been broken and the Dairias Homogenus were finally going to enforce a rule!

According to the unprovable writings of Flavor Flavious, thus began the history of warfare!


Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at