You can’t get an abortion in Texas, but you can strap a six-shooter to your leg for your trip to Walmart. You better damn well love your neighbor, unless they get raped and inquire about abortions, then you turn them in for a bounty. What’s next? Turn in your gay neighbors? Out the philanderers? Rat on an atheist? There are so many pitfalls on this slippery slope, and everybody is stuck wearing socks.
The anti-abortion thing makes no sense to me. Even if you believe that God touched that belly, don’t we override God’s wishes all the time? Your mom gets Cancer. Isn’t that God’s will? Wouldn’t it be blasphemy to sign that lady up for Chemo? Just let her die like God intended.
Hurricanes are God’s will too, right? Forget the sandbags, the water will go where God directs it. Stop wearing sunscreen while you’re at it. God wanted that skin to burn or he would have made you darker. Made you live in a cave. And God didn’t create toothbrushes and fluoride toothpaste. Embrace those root canals.
If you really love your neighbor, shouldn’t you honor their wishes? Shouldn’t you respect their autonomy? I don’t believe in God, but, if I did, I don’t think I’d presume to know what she wanted. I’m just an imperfect person like the rest of you, after all.
The worry is wrapped around around you like a blanket - you have it pulled up to your chin; soon, it will cover your mouth and you will struggle to breathe. This is just one of the benefits of that rational mind you’re so proud of. Enjoy it.
The worry is weight. It pulls you down. It is like the bags full of birdshot plaguing Harrison Bergeron. You could take a few drinks and ease the burden, but it will be back even heavier in the morning. You always have to pay your debts, one way or another.
The worry is the animal subverted. It is the instinct that has nowhere to run. That constant vigilance should be protecting you from saber-tooth tigers, not making you wash your hands for the fifth time.
You don’t have to worry about tigers these days. The tigers are dressed in suits and they are stripping your rights with smiles on their faces. Abortion in Texas is just the beginning. But you’re so worried about theoretical medical debt that you can’t follow the proceedings. You have masks to make. You have bills to pay.
They put you in a cage, and they made you like it. They put devices in your hands. They stoked resentments, and then they laughed at your innocence and naiveté. It’s all right, though. We’ll all perish in the end. Money can’t stop entropy. Feeling warm?
With a toss of the head, she disarms you. You feel the pulse in your temples, sweat slicks your palms. This makes her smile, she can see that you are damn near squirming, writhing in your seat with the discomfort. It amuses her, and the knowledge that you are her entertainment burns you like acid.
She was trained for this, trained to sit quietly without going mad. Trained to wear that supercilious mask which hides any hope for truth or honesty. She is seated in an elevated position, and you both know what that means. She is the taskmaster. You are the task.
Until the bell rings.