Once upon a time...
John had grown tired of being scared. He was told there were terrorists and criminals all around him. And scary gun owners who wanted to shoot him.
And there were all these Big Businesses wanting to add poison to all the food they sold to kill him. And conspire together to make him pay too much. And, obviously, they enslaved all their employees and made them work for minimum wage in dangerous conditions. They even wanted to hire children and force them to work in sweatshops instead of learning how to read, write, and obey bells while being fed nice warm meals of government-approved "food"!
But, some of his friends kept reminding him this wasn't the way it had to be; peace and fairness were possible. All it took was accepting the Lord and Savior: The State. Giving all control of himself over to The State's representatives. Obeying each and every command without question and with perfect willingness. Never questioning- that was too hard anyway. Stop living for yourself as the selfish do, but live to lift up and praise The State and all its gifts.
In return The State would protect him with its Commandments called Laws. To pay for all this goodness only cost 88% of the production of the entire economy; an acceptable tithe. The occasional blood sacrifices would probably never happen to anyone he knew personally. As long as they obeyed the Commandments. And, even if falsely accused, he was promised, just do what the cops tell you to do, and if you survive, there won't be any problem. Even if you are horribly violated, it's your own fault, and you can sort it all out in court later. Or your survivors can. It's all good. No need to lift a finger against your protectors.
So, John gave himself- body and soul- to The State. He waved its flag and said its pledge. He supported its troops, both the foreign and domestic branches, whole-heartedly. He angrily defended it from any questions. He finally felt safe.
Enjoying his new-found serenity, he took a stroll in a government park. He knew cops were walking around, looking for trouble on his behalf. He was relieved to see cameras focused on every square inch of the park. As long as he stayed in plain view of the cameras, help would probably be only minutes away if something bad happened. He was so happy not to have to worry about defending himself anymore. It would have been too stressful- or so his friends had assured him. Not that he had ever tried, of course. That was distasteful business.
He remembered he had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and sneakily picked up a stray bit of trash (the wind must have blown it here since he didn't see any blood to testify to an arrest) to hide his act of putting the pack in the trash can. He got away with it! Praise the cameras! The cameras would help him stop his filthy habit, and the chances the pack would be found and fingerprinted was pretty low. Still he felt a little guilty he hadn't turned himself in. He could probably afford the fine for possessing an open pack- his daughter would understand if they had to skip a meal or two. They had made sacrifices for the glory of The State before. In six months or so, his wife would be out of jail, having then served her time for taking that text message while parked in front of that store. She should have known better! But he wouldn't do anything wrong, like she did. Maybe she should have looked into one of those "parked texting" permits. Or, maybe she should have become a cop, since they can text or use their computers while they drive- not only while parked. This solution to a common problem made him smile. He felt good for having thought of it, and would be sure to scold his wife for not thinking clearer before doing something illegal.
As he strolled contentedly along, he noticed as a cop tried to arrest a guy who had committed the heinous crime of reaching into a pocket and then reacting with fear as he noticed the presence of a cop. The criminal didn't drop to his knees fast enough to satisfy the cop, who kicked his legs out from under him and started tazing and kicking him. He should have complied faster. What is he doing? Using sign language? Well, deaf people should always get on their knees in the presence of a cop so misunderstandings like this wouldn't happen. Again, if only people would comply! That deaf criminal sure could scream loud, though. John hoped the cop took note to add that to the list of offenses. He's probably an illegal immigrant too- because he looked a little different.
John turned away to avoid seeing anything the cop didn't want seen. You've got to support those fine people and their sacrifices, and supporting them is best served by looking the other way. His friends had told him that plenty of times. It's why the cameras automatically shut off any time a cop was in frame- for the safety of the officer.
John found a nice bench under a tree. He only jumped a little when he heard the gunshot that ended the screaming of the criminal. Ahh. Peace and quiet again.
Just another necessary sacrifice to make John, and those he loved, feel safe,
The clouds rolled by. A bird was starting to sing again. As John sat in the shade of the tree, a tear came to his eye as he reflected that none of this would be possible without the loving State's hand holding itself over him.
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