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Story Time
In the chaos of **World War I**, generals claimed to be fully **cognizant** of battlefield realities, yet their decisions betrayed glaring **cognitive bias**. Reports in each **dossier** were filled with numbers that hid human suffering, and officers often fell victim to **confirmation bias**, believing only the intelligence that supported their plans. Soldiers, meanwhile, lived with constant **cognitive dissonance**—asked to kill in the name of civilization while writing home about longing for peace and normal life.
Back home, artists tried to make sense of the conflict through new forms of **composition**. Some embraced **Cubism**, breaking the world into fractured shapes, as if to mirror the shattered landscape of Europe. Museum walls became battlegrounds of style, where each **curator** debated whether to honor tradition or embrace innovation. A war-torn generation looked on with **cynicism**, skeptical that beauty could ever heal what had been lost.
Universities adapted their **curriculum** to meet the needs of returning veterans, weaving lessons in philosophy and economics with warnings drawn from recent history. Some courses were deliberately **didactic**, teaching not only knowledge but also moral responsibility. At the same time, tales of spies and traitors revealed how **deception** had played a central role in the conflict. Codes, crooked deals, and **crooked** lines of supply shaped battles as much as guns did.
Through it all, intellectuals wrestled with meaning. Could shattered ideals be rebuilt? Could reason replace rage? The war left behind not only ruins but questions—about human nature, about the limits of rationality, and about whether the next generation would recognize their own biases before plunging into yet another catastrophe.
Back home, artists tried to make sense of the conflict through new forms of **composition**. Some embraced **Cubism**, breaking the world into fractured shapes, as if to mirror the shattered landscape of Europe. Museum walls became battlegrounds of style, where each **curator** debated whether to honor tradition or embrace innovation. A war-torn generation looked on with **cynicism**, skeptical that beauty could ever heal what had been lost.
Universities adapted their **curriculum** to meet the needs of returning veterans, weaving lessons in philosophy and economics with warnings drawn from recent history. Some courses were deliberately **didactic**, teaching not only knowledge but also moral responsibility. At the same time, tales of spies and traitors revealed how **deception** had played a central role in the conflict. Codes, crooked deals, and **crooked** lines of supply shaped battles as much as guns did.
Through it all, intellectuals wrestled with meaning. Could shattered ideals be rebuilt? Could reason replace rage? The war left behind not only ruins but questions—about human nature, about the limits of rationality, and about whether the next generation would recognize their own biases before plunging into yet another catastrophe.