"LET MY PEOPLE GO!" The Conservative House of Bondage

THIS COUNTRY'S CREED IS 'EQUAL BEFORE THE LAW', SO LET'S LIVE UP TO OUR CREED IN HEALTH CARE, HOUSING, FOOD AND ELSEWHERE. OR WE CAN CONTINUE TO BE LIKE THE FOLLOWING:


LET MY PEOPLE GO:
THE CONSERVATIVE HOUSE OF BONDAGE.

BY MATTHEW LUCAS BECKETT

“Move, slave,” says John Boehner, as he cracks the whip across my back. “If you ever want to see a doctor, you'd better finish building my new chair of power fast.”
“Yes, Master,” I reply, for I do need to see a doctor soon about my flu like symptoms, but since I have a preexisting health condition and am over eighteen, my only option is to be The Speaker of The House's slave until he sees fit to give me a doctor visit, since the job I did before becoming his slave did not pay enough for me to pay for the treatment I need out of pocket.

“If I could just have a morsel of food,” I hear one of my fellow slaves say. “I haven't eaten in three days. I don't have the strength. . .”
“You'll find the strength unless you want to go another week without food,” snarls Kay Baily Hutchison from behind her. “You lazy, worthless. . .”
“All right, that's enough Kay,” says my master, who is of course also the head of the whole Republican Palace Building Operation. “It's no use blaming a dog for being a dog.”
My blood boils at this remark. None of us are dogs. We're simply people who have preexisting health conditions, or environmental pollution triggered health conditions, or cannot at the moment totally provide for our own needs as far as food and clothing and shelter go, or have a disability that makes us unable to completely take care of ourselves, or who happen to be Homo-or-Bi-Sexual, whom The Conservative Majority have deemed unworthy of being in society at large, gathered, and brought all here to build their Conservative Palace to give them a life of ease while we all work as their slaves for the occasional nugget of decency that they may throw at us if they choose. However, my flu is worsening, so I really need that medicine, and so I keep my thoughts to myself.
“Did someone tell you to quit working!” I feel the whip crack hard across my back, and reel, but quickly recover and get back to work, working double time to make up the seconds lost to my musings, for if I slow down the work overall, ,I will only get my medicine when I'm at death's door, if then, if ever.

We all work until the sun has set and no one can see any more, since it is a new moon and the stars are obscured by clouds.
Then I receive my injection, as brutal and unpleasant as they can make it, and a warning. “Get lost in thought gain tomorrow, and there will be no more treatment at all, and when your belly is totally empty, you'll die. Now, go fetch the water and be quick about it. And don't spill any again,or else,” the medical technician calls out the last as I walk towards the distant well with an empty bucket, for I did stumble in the pitch black night and spill a fourth of the full to the brim bucket last night.
As I near the well, however, I behold a strange sight. The well seems to be on fire, yet the flames that engulf it do not destroy. I take a step back, uncertain, when a Voice comes from it.
“Matthew, Son of James, Approach,” it says.
I obey, uncertain what this means, although from a vague and distant past long before my enslavement, I have a vague sense that this should be familiar. When I near, I look at the burning well uncertainly.
“Set down your bucket and remove your tennis shoes and socks,” says the Voice. “You stand on sacred ground.”
I obey, knowing that this is familiar, yet my pre-slave life is so distant now I still cannot place it.
“I have heard your cries,” says the Voice. “I have heard the cries of the uninsured and under-insured, of the hungry, the thirsty, the homeless, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned, the planet and of the outcasts. I AM The GOD of Abraham, Issac, Jacob, Moses, The Prophets and The Line of David, who came to the world in The Man Jesus Christ. I shall deliver my people from this House of Bondage, this Conservative House of Bondage, as from The Egyptian House of Bondage of old. Leave your bucket here along with your footwear, go to your Pharaoh, John Boehner, announce yourself MY Messenger and tell him that I have said, once again,”LET MY PEOPLE GO!”.
I do as instructed. “And HE says “LET MY PEOPLE GO!” I conclude.
The Speaker of The House is so incensed by this pronouncement, that he seizes a rifle from a nearby guard and points it at me. Suddenly, though, he screams as the rifle and the arm holding it catch fire. At the same moment, the chains that bind all of us snap and fall away. Then The Voice Speaks for all to hear.
“I have told you again and again to treat the less fortunate in all walks of life and in all ways less fortunate well, and not to judge one another, but to leave that to ME. But you have stubbornly refused to hear these words, preferring instead to focus on minor phrases of MY BOOK which you incorrectly interpret to condone the judging of others, ignoring the overall call for Justice to those in need in all ways and love for all. Therefore, I loose the bonds of those you had made your slaves and now put you under their judgment. Whatever they decide your fate should be, it shall be, for they have endured brutality and inhumane treatment at your hands for so long, justice demands they be at least given a say in your fate.”
Our enslavers tremble in terror as we, their former slaves, gather to discuss their fate. After much argument, conversation and discussion, we come to a unanimous decision, and I am appointed to pronounce our verdict.
“You have denied the right of those of us with preexisting health conditions to have the opportunity to shop around for a competitive rate for decent, affordable health insurance,” I begin, and they tremble even more, which I cannot deny brings s slight, inner smile. “You have sought to deny those unable to get a private school education any kind of quality education. You have worked to undermine any and all efforts to save this planet from the ecological catastrophe that now seems inevitable. You have sought to starve and parch to death, let die of exposure without shelter or clothing, let die of treatable disease and rot alone in prison whether guilty or innocent, those most vulnerable in society, and you have sought to deny the very right to exist any of what you consider 'abnormal' sexual orientation.” I can see the fear in all of their eyes and think I even see a damp patch on a few pairs of pants, and I can;t deny some satisfaction in the sights. “Therefore,” I conclude, and the tension in the room is palpable. “We have decided. . .” I pause as long as I can, wanting them to feel our sweat of many years and for many reasons, just a little bit longer. At last the moment has no choice but to come. “To forgive you for everything and let you go as you choose.”
“You have chosen well,” says The Voice of THE LORD. “For no mortal should make such a judgment of another.”
“Then I judge myself,” says one of the old guards, and before any can react puts her gun in her mouth and eats a bullet.
“Yes. For all that we have done, we must be punished,,” says a high ranking former oppressor.
“Your self condemnation now that you have seen the error of your ways is punishment enough,” I say, and mean it.
A few more cannot stand the sudden realization of how wrong they were about everything and take their own lives, but most over time find a way to adapt to the new understanding of reality in which all people are free to be who we each and all are, a unique Child of GOD, lovingly and wonderfully made in HIS Image and each with something to offer to HIM and to each other. AMEN.

WE CAN BE LIKE THE ABOVE, UNWORTHY OF THE TITLE OF DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC.