Monday, May 30, 2011

Victimhood, a modern fable.

She wears her Victimhood like a mantle of fine fox fur, complemented by the jewelry of vulnerability, decorated with the finery of poverty.

The sycophants fall over themselves in their rush to her aid, bewitched and bedazzled by such a show so well matched to their ambition, such a wondrous opportunity to exercise their nobility for everyone to see.

With pomp and heads held high they march him through their royal court, glorying in the success of their hunt, the fox run down, the vermin caught.

Nobly, they cut her man down as, with a carefully crafted sob, she gestures his dispatch, “skin him alive, put him in chains, make him work, I want him no more”.

The empress retires regally and puts on her new clothes - the same as the old, but now with one more layer of fur and a bold sash to show her bravery despite all odds.

(In the corner, the only little boy who can say what she’s really wearing, struck dumb by the thought that she might do to him what she just did to his dad.)