Fractured Parables: The Good Sojourner
By this time, the man in the road had died and the birds had eaten his flesh and the wolves had carted off his bones, so that no one had to look upon them or smell them anymore.
Sometime later, another man was beat up, robbed, and left for dead. Now by chance, another Progressive Activist came by and when he saw the half-dead man lying in the road, he passed by him on the other side. When he came to his village, he convened another special meeting of fellow progressive activists. And lo, he stood up high in their midst and cried, ‘Friends, I have seen an awful injustice on the road today. A poor waddler has sought out economic justice and privacy for himself, and now he is being hunted by the authorities.” And lo, his friends agreed that they should exert political pressure on their government body, to get the law to look favorably upon waddlers.
By this time, the second man had also died, and the same stuff had happened to him. At least, I think he was a man. We can’t be sure though – After all, we know that people are people in cities, but we’re not sure what they are on roads between cities. It’s all very complicated.
But back to our story. Er, parable.
Sometime later, still ANOTHER man was being beat up, er, ‘waddled,’ by the side of the road. Now, by chance, a soldier came along and beat up the waddler and brought the half-waddled man back to town, took him to one of those extended stay places, and took care of him. The half-waddled man got better and eventually had a family and a brilliant career as a medical researcher.
By this time, the society had become quite divided on the Waddling Issue. One of its political parties, the Trumpeter Party, courted the Anti-Waddler crowd, while also managing to keep a lot of Pro-Waddlers on their ticket. The other party, the Jennet Party, was adamantly Pro-Waddler. Back and forth they went.
Sometime later, a Progressive Activist and a Christian were bickering as they traveled down the road. Now by chance, they spotted a man in the process of being waddled by a poor soul who needed the money more than the other man. The Progressive Activist and the Christian bickered harder than ever. And they argued for a long long long time.
Now by chance, a vender of bumper stickers set up shop next to the spectacle. One said, “Don’t like Waddling? Don’t do it!” And another said, “It’s a person, not a purse.”
Now by chance, a sojourner passed by the spectacle, and lamented how divisive the issue was in the society. And lo, he decried the immorality of waddling, but encouraged lawmakers to make the practice rare rather than illegal, lest the society fall prey to the greater evil of not being able to have a Coke and a smile and letting the fundamentalists shut the heck up.
And lo, he set up his own bumper-sticker shop, with his patented slogan, “My higher power (as I understand him) is not a Jennet. Or a Trumpeter.”
And there was much rejoicing.