Judge: Do I understand this right? You want to sue everyone?
Plaintiff: That's right.
Judge: Because you are miserable?
Plaintiff: That's right.
J: I'm not sure you can do that.
P: Well, I am.
J: I'll be the judge of that. On what grounds?
P: That life is dull, tedious, and discomforting, and it doesn’t have to be this way.
J: Yes, but there's no law against that.
P: Isn't there?
J: No.
P: I don't care. My life is miserable. I hate every day of it. It's all your fault.
J: My fault?
P: Yours, too. But it's everyone's, I mean.
J: Even tiny infants.
P: Them, too.
J: Could you be more specific?
P: Not really. I haven't met everyone yet.
J: No, I mean about how life sucks. What do you mean by that?
P: Well, you know how when it's spring and the bugs come out and get inside.
J: Not me. I have an exterminator.
P: Just imagine. Please try. Bugs come in, in spring, big ones. A spider. Lost, really. Didn't know it was your house.
J: It isn't my house.
P: Yes, well, suppose the poison didn't work instantly.
J: I'd get another exterminator. A different one.
P: That's how I feel.
J: Like an exterminator.
P: No, the exterminated. But someone's really taking his time about it.
J: Yes, well, I know what you mean. What ever happened to service?
P: Oh, I heard he got an MBA and a promotion and now he’s moved upstairs. I think he writes Word documents for half a million a year or something like that. None of us sees him anymore, but sometimes I get an email.
J: What?
P: Nothing.
J: It's his fault, too, then?
P: Yes, definitely him, too.
J: I'm sorry, sir, but on the basis of this conversation - because these court documents you filed aren't worth the ink they were printed with - on the basis of this conversation, I am quickly arriving at the conclusion that the loony bin is more in order for you than this court.
P: Oh, I see. I complain so you try and tell me I'm crazy.
J: Sir, you are trying to sue everyone.
P: Well, it's everyone's fault. Look, your honor, I'm not the vicious type. I'm not trying to make trouble.
J: Yes, well, we do have laws against that!
P: I just want my say and then you can take me out back and shoot me.
J: Oh, no! We don't do that kind of thing anymore.
P: Oh, no? What do you do then?
J: We send you to a Freemocracy Awareness Center, like the one in Cuba, and after you're better you do the talk circuit. You know, radio, graduations, that sort of thing.
P: I don't care what you do to me, actually. Just listen.
J: Are you giving testimony then?
P: Yes.
J: I see. Oughtn't we call the defendant into the court?
P: If you like.
J: Quite difficult, though, wouldn't you say? How about this? I'll turn on the cameras and we'll broadcast this out to the world and it will be the same thing, won't it?
P: Yes, I guess it will. Everyone staring at me like I have my pants down.
J: There. Now the whole world is watching. Well, those who are interested.
P: Oh, so not very many after all.
J: They can tune in on their consoles, wherever they happen to be. At home, in the car, eating lunch, at work - ah, well, not at work, naturally. We wouldn't want to encourage slacking. The economy is in bad enough shape as it is. All you watching at work, cut it out! That's right! Do something useful, you lazy bastards! That's what you are being paid for, isn't it?
P: Strange, isn't it? It's just you and I here in this room, and yet we're being watched by countless people we can't see and will never hear from.
J: What's so strange about that? Ever watch a movie? A play?
P: Well, yes, but it's not real. It's scripted, I mean.
J: You got something to hide then?
P: No, it's just -
J: Look, if you didn't want all the attention, you shouldn't be suing everyone, now should you?
P: I'm not doing it to be spiteful.
J: I know, I know. You are doing it because you are miserable and it's everybody's fault.
P: Right.
J: Have you actually thought about what you are saying?
P: Of course. An agonizingly long time.
J: No, I mean listen to yourself. You are unhappy but it's everyone else's fault. Not yours.
P: Nope. Not mine.
J: You wouldn't say that maybe you haven't made the right choices in life?
P: Nope.
J: At all?
P: A few, of course. But that's not it.
J: Well, then. Please explain.
P: I had a good -
J: Go on. Get it out. Afterwards we'll send you a bill for wasting the court's time. We are busy people. We've got serious matters to attend to, you know.
P: I know. This is serious -
J: And all these people watching. I'm sure you're going to bore them to death with your whining before you're half way done.
P: May I start?
J: Maybe we should pipe this in to the prisons and the camps. Well, the camps, really. Common criminals don't deserve this.
P: But you don't even know what I'm going to say.
J: Of course, I do. See these robes? You think I wear them because they make me look good? People stand before me every day complaining. "I didn't do anything", "The police beat me up", "I had a terrible childhood".
P: Well, as I was going to say, I had a good childhood.
J: I see. What?
P: I said, I had a good childhood.
J: I know. I'm not deaf. You want to complain about that?
P: No, I want to complain about what happened after.
J: Well, why did you mention it then?
P: Because, maybe it would have been better if I hadn't.
J: I see. Your parents didn't beat you enough?
P: It was just so hard to turn into an adult. As a child, everything was all smiles and laughing. Holidays, plenty of food on the table, the healthy sort, too. My parents spent time with me. There were rules that made sense, even if I didn't agree with them, and we called that fair.
J: They didn't divorce?
P: Nope. They worked hard and I got a good education.
J: Better than I got. I'm almost 55 and I'm still paying off my school loans.
P: I got in on scholarship.
J: So what's the problem?
P: I wish I hadn't.
J: Got a scholarship?
P: No, had such a good childhood! Look, when I was in kindergarten they gave us plenty of toys and told us to play with each other. There was lots of oo-ing and ah-ing and giggling and drooling and plenty of naptime. Life was a breeze.
J: There are places like that for adults, you know. But we give them different pills than the children get. We give the children pills to keep them quiet. All those damn silly questions! The adults get pills to keep them getting antisocial.
P: When I was in kindergarten, they didn’t give us pills.
J: Maybe that’s part of the problem.
P: When actually if they had wanted to prepare us for life what they should have done is given us very few toys and taught us how to use the other kids in the class to gain possession of all the toys and hoard them in the coat closet where nobody including myself was ever going to use them.
J: Sounds sensible, actually.
P: What a surprise, then, when I got older and all of a sudden life took a big turn for the worse. I had to start working.
J: Oh, so you're lazy! I think we have laws against that, too. Let me see ...
P: I'm not lazy. If there's work to be done and I see the point in it and I approve of the result, I'll work as hard as the next guy.
J: That's not very hard at all.
P: I think you misjudge us.
J: Who, lazy people?
P: Average people.
J: Well, in my opinion, you aren't average at all. In fact, you are quite exceptional. Some people are lazy, fine, but you have no shame in coming out and declaring it in front of all of us.
P: I'm not lazy. It's just that I've hated every job I ever had. Nobody really told me what I should be doing to succeed.
J: Obviously you don't listen very well.
P: They gave me things to do, but sometimes they forgot about it and other times after I did it they told me they didn't need it anymore and sometimes they changed their minds about what had to be done without telling me and got mad that it wasn't done right and yelled at me in front of everyone and told me I couldn't go on vacation. And everyone just sat and stared.
J: Didn't that ever happen to you in school?
P: Well, yes, but I thought things were supposed to be different now that I'm grown up.
J: Well, they are.
P: How?
J: Well, we can execute you now, for one thing.
P: And most of the time I didn't understand the point of what I was doing anyway, and if I asked I was usually told to shut it and mind my own business.
J: Naturally.
P: And they were always telling me to do it quicker. Never fast enough for them.
J: Are you done yet?
P: With what?
J: Well, you made your point. You hate to work. I thought maybe you'd move on to something else.
P: I haven't made my point. You see, work is always like this. Until one day I figured out that the point isn't to do what you're told as well as possible at all. It's to stab your colleagues in the back, take credit for their work, and always agree with your boss, no matter how stupid or arrogant he is.
J: Yes, of course.
P: Well, they never told us that in school.
J: Of course not! We can't actually come right out and say that, can we? Think how it would make us feel. Have you no compassion?
P: Ah, I see. Maybe they should have given us lectures on how to be a successful petty bourgeois wannabee instead of silly things like, say, mathematics?
J: Yes, well, the triumph of the petty bourgeois wannabee is one of the defining characteristics of Freemocracy, isn’t it?
P: How depressing.
J: Look, it’s not like you were born on some farm or work two fast food joints and the local miniature golf course. You didn’t have to resort to the army. You’re a petty bourgeois wannabee, too, you know. You’re being catered to by society, can’t you see that?
P: But life –
J: Is miserable. Yes, I know. What did you expect, anyway? That you’d wake up excited about each new day?
P: See, it would seem to me it was better before everything got so specialized.
J: What do you mean? You want us to go back to throwing shit at each other? Are you going to go live in a field? Send me a bomb in the mail?
P: It's just that everything is so big and I'm so small. I feel like things happen in spite of me. I have no say in it at all or what happens to me, and somehow I get the feeling a lot of people I've never met on vacation in Barbados or Dubai are having the time of their life because of it.
J: I'd watch it if I were you. You're starting to sound like a communist. Did I say communist? That's so old-fashioned of me. I've been in this business a long time.
P: Business?
J: The business of justice! That's what it says above the door, doesn't it? We call them terrorists now, so watch what you're saying. This is a free country and terrorists are right out. You're scaring the people watching this.
P: At home. Not at work.
J: No, because unlike you they're not lazy! They know the value of hard work and sticking to the rules. They're too busy tapping on keyboards and going to meetings to waste their time listening to someone suggest that the wealthy are wealthy for any other reason than they are superior.
P: Really? You think so? I must admit, I've thought a lot of things about those fat bastards stuffing wads of cash down their pockets, but superior was never among them.
J: You can’t say that! This is a free country! You're walking on dangerous ground as it is. Nose down, work hard, stick to the rules. Chop chop! This is a free country. If you had it in you, you'd have risen up the ranks by now, maybe sitting here behind this desk -
P: God no!
J: - or in Dubai. That's the kind of system we have. But clearly you're not smart enough. Don't have the drive, the ambition. You should count yourself lucky that anyone should offer you a job at all!
P: Well, that's my point, really. I shouldn't have to depend upon anyone.
J: Oh, I see. Jobs should just grow on trees. Perhaps you have to dig them out of the ground like potatoes?
P: And there never seem to be enough of them. So I have to compromise my ethics and can't be choosy and turn down that company that makes soap, televisions, poison gas, and nuclear bombs.
J: Good job. Nothing to be ashamed of. Pays the bills.
P: Well, what is a job, anyway? No one finds satisfaction in pushing paper. A human being wants to provide food for himself and his family, shelter. He wants to pursue his ambitions. Not sit ten hours a day being radiated into submission.
J: What in God's name are you on about now? I push paper around all day and I'm quite happy about it.
P: No, you're not.
J: What do you mean, no I'm not? I tell you I am!
P: You just think you are.
J: Now if this isn't just the height of arrogance! I tell you I'm perfectly happy with myself and my life and you've never met me before and you tell me I'm not. You're the one who's miserable, remember?
P: Most people these days are miserable. I've just decided to do something about it.
J: You're a loony.
P: You can tell by the sneer.
J: What sneer?
P: The one you've had on since I came in here. I see it on the street all the time, that same vengeful sneer. Or a frightened sneer, like a dog that's been kicked too often and is looking for someone smaller to bite.
J: I do not sneer. I have grace. Elegance. I give off an air of dignity.
P: Anyway, no one could be happy who has to go to work dressed like that.
J: Now listen here, you! I've just about had enough of this! Can't you follow your parents' example, work hard, get married, have children? The wonder of life and all that?
P: My parents are dead. You see, after they worked so hard and were ready to retire, the company decided to forfeit on its pension plan because - well, I don't understand, they seemed to be making a good deal of money, but apparently not enough, so to keep the stock price up, they dumped the pension on the government.
J: That's terrible! Wasn't there media attention? Outrage?
P: Of course. Everyone was allowed to feel angry for the appropriate amount of time. But eventually our suffering got old and there was brand new suffering in the world to root out. Suffering is a big business, too, you know. Everyone forgot about it and then the government told my parents that it wasn't the job of government to take care of people.
J: I'm sure you have it mistaken.
P: They were my parents.
J: You're an unhinged loon. Things obviously happen in your world the rest of us aren't aware of. Not to mention, you seem to be slightly subversive.
P: Does that mean you're not going to listen to me anymore?
J: Not unless you stick to the case. You have to show that you are miserable. Alright, I'm prepared to accept that. Can you show it is everybody's fault?
P: Haven't I already started?
J: Heavens, no! You've just been drenching me - not to mention our audience, that is, the ones who haven't yet wandered off to hang themselves in a desperate attempt to end the boredom - with some drivel about how you can't hold a job and hate rich people! Oh yes, and people seem to look at you funny in the street. I think I'm beginning to understand why.
P: Well, how's this: everyone's lying to me.
J: Lying to you? I see. So you have spoken to everyone, then? I'm sorry you finally got around to me.
P: No, I mean the church, the news, of course.
J: Heavens me! You've just finished slagging off one of the pillars of our great society and now you're on about the other two! What do you mean they are lying to you?
P: Well, which one should I start with?
J: Certainly not the church. I mean, hopefully even you aren't mad enough to assail the hope and foundation of so many people's lives!
P: The news, then?
J: The news. Although I can't really imagine what you are going to say about that. That people shouldn't be informed?
P: I'm saying that it would be nice if it were possible to be informed at all.
J: I see. So if the news is lying to you, just believe exactly the opposite and you'll know what's going on. What's next?
P: It doesn't work like that. Look, the only part of the news that doesn't have some hidden agenda behind it is the sports. Some guy kicks a ball, it goes in the net, score! That's what they show on TV, that's what they tell you, that's what happened. Unfortunately, the rest isn't shown like that.
J: How is it shown then?
P: Well, I'll put it this way. If you read the Washington Post, Al-Jazeerah -
J: You shouldn't be reading that! You ought to stop immediately!
P: Why, is it illegal?
J: Not yet, no. But we can still get you for it. We'll think up some other reason if you push us, you know. Everyone's always guilty of some infraction of the rules. Saying you read Al-Jazeerah. Think of all the people watching. Mothers who lost their sons in the war, that sort of thing. What if some of them decide to look, too? Then we'll really have a problem and that, sir, will be your fault, no doubt about it! I think the unofficial line is, look if you want while you can, but keep it to yourself.
P: Well, if I look at the Washington Post or Le Monde or -
J: Excuse me?
P: Le Monde.
J: Are you swearing at me?
P: No, your honor.
J: What kind of language is that, anyway?
P: It's French.
J: Oh, I see. Well, you're not the only one who's smart around here. I'm smart. I can't speak French, of course, or any other language for that matter except plain old, reliable English, but I have style, I can assure you of that. I don't eat peanut butter on white bread for lunch or munch on potato chips, you know. They didn't join us in the war, did they?
P: No.
J: So what are you reading that crap for? Look, the Washington Post is for pussies enough. Why don't you read the New York Times? Put some muscle in your information! Who wants to hear about some whiny peasants locked inside a Walmart at night for less than minimum wage and no health insurance? Wouldn't you rather hear about how our boys are out in the world kicking ass?
P: I'd rather eat my own liver.
J: Hmmm. Logistically, it might be difficult, but certainly possible.
P: Anyway, if I read different newspapers from around the world, it's sometimes hard to imagine they are all talking about the same thing.
J: I told you, read the New York Times. Or some other newspaper from home. Then you'll be alright. Less confused. Let me put it this way. Our newspapers are good. Theirs are bad, all lies and propaganda.
P: Ah. And who is they?
J: Don't worry. We'll make sure you know when the times comes. Anyway, maybe you should stop reading and watch TV like the rest of us. Reading is bad for your eyes. On TV you can have everything you need to know spoon fed to you in short, ten minute portions separated by those delightful, slightly amusing commercial tidbits!
P: I hate TV. It treats me like I'm stupid.
J: I know what you mean. Try being more selective! There's a world of wonder out there if you look for it, and you don't even have to get out of your chair. Isn't that wonderful? You can be fat and asthmatic and still travel along the rivers of South America or walk on the moon. Try the Discovery Channel or National Geographic.
P: No, really, I don't like TV. Love movies, though. No commercials.
J: You must like the Simpsons.
P: But that goes without saying.
J: See?
P: It's an exception. And the worst is the news!
J: Weren't you just on about the news?
P: Yes, in newspapers. At least I can select which crap I want to be bombarded with. And I can take my time at it if I want. But on TV they only have time for the childish. They call it world events, but I have to sit and watch the President walking his dog for five minutes and the robots discussing how cute it is and whether or not it's had its shots.
J: I’m curious! I want to know!
P: And whenever people protest in the world, if it’s against the Russians then they are good, hard-working people who have been oppressed for too long, but if they are Bolivian farmers demanding the nationalization of the oil industry, they are a rabid mob of cocaine-making delinquents. Soviet dissidents reporting their abuse at the hands of the state to Amnesty International are believable, but if we do it, it’s a slandering, politically motivated organization that ought to loose its non-profit status. We're always good and they're always bad. Because we care.
J: Who's bad?
P: Anybody our government doesn't like. And if a scrap of uncensored truth does get out, they have it retracted because it was irresponsible reporting and fifteen people got killed in a riot somewhere. Not to mention, blowing things up is only so bad when we're not the ones doing it.
J: Well, that makes sense, now, doesn't it? We're free and happy. They're ignorant, mindless bastards who lust in torture and barbarism. They blow themselves up.
P: Yes, well, I agree, blowing yourself up is a bit fanatical. But, see, this is what I mean. Surely not everyone living over there is a fiendish madman, but you'd never know it watching the news.
J: Not everyone. There are the ones who like us. They show that on the news, don’t they?
P: I’m not convinced there are very many of them. Only the subservient ones, the ones we’d like to be in power because they admire us so much they’ll do whatever we say.
J: I wouldn't be too sure. Anyway, they live in a desert. Who in his right mind would do that?
P: Don't be ridiculous.
J: You see, what you don't seem to understand is that we're all one big, happy family over here. You, too.
P: Me?
J: Yes, you. And even though you're doing your very best to piss us all off, we still love you enough that we'll take you back if only you ask for it. Probably wouldn't hurt if you got on your hands and knees and invoked the name of Our Lord when you did, though. I'm sure everyone watching will take you back in the fold with open arms. They're good people.
P: Well, I wouldn't want to insult people I've never met before.
J: It's a bit late for that now, isn't it?
P: You don't seem to want to understand. I'm not being malicious. I have a problem! And none of it actually has to be this way. I'm not arguing against gravity, you know.
J: Oh?
P: No! Look, I went out and bought the car, got the gadgets, put on the fancy clothes. Had a few laughs, but guess what? Still not happy.
J: Miserable, I'll bet.
P: Yes.
J: Thought so.
P: I don't want to be part of a world where people communicate through brand names, cave music, and monosyllabic catch phrases they picked up on TV.
J: Ah, I see. Let me ask you something?
P: Yes?
J: I'll bet when you were growing up you're mommy told you you were special.
P: Yes.
J: That there was no one else in the world quite like you.
P: Yes.
J: That you had some special talent that made you stand out?
P: And?
J: She was lying. Don't you see? All our mothers told us that, so it can't possibly be true. The rest of us just got over it. How about you?
P: But you see, I think it is true.
J: Now you are being ridiculous.
P: Well, what about you?
J: I wasn't talking about me. I'm in a different category altogether. After all, I'm all the way up here and you're, well, microscopic.
P: Well, you did say 'us' and 'our'.
J: Don't listen to what I say. Listen to what I mean!
P: Jesus Christ, how did you actually get on that bench? Bribe a few congressmen? Contribute to a presidential campaign?
J: If you don't start showing me some respect -
P: I'll bet that you have a - you are married, aren't you?
J: Of course. To my high school sweetheart.
[ for a male judge:
P: Of course, people like you always are. All appearances with a rotten filling. I'll bet you've got a lover on the side made out of thin, inflatable plastic that you have to clean out every so often or she gets crusty. Ever given your wife an orgasm?]
[ for a female judge:
P: … I’ll bet you’ve got a lover on the side, a long piece of strap on plastic with two large protrusions, two D-batteries, and a remote control which you like to hand to other people and tell them it’s for the stereo. Your husband ever manage to give you an orgasm? ]
J: A what?
P: Ah, I see. Never heard of one. I'd show you, but I'm sure we have laws against it.
J: Plenty!
P: And all thanks to that friendly, neighborhood organization called the church.
J: Wait, I thought for the sake of the children that we'd not drag that sacred institution through the mud.
P: I don't know what gave you that idea. It's one of my favorite topics! And to be honest, it might actually do those children good to learn what organized forms of religion are really like before they find out the key to salvation doesn't lie in an old man's trousers or on a collection plate.
J: This is monstrous! You can make fun of my sexual habits, it's all in good fun. But this is madness!
P: I don't know how many mean-spirited deviant bastards -
J: Hey, we're all deviant in some way or another. That's why we are all susceptible to punishment.
P: - have gotten the a-okay from the church to go and exploit their fellow human being as long as they fork over ten percent and even drop a bomb on one or two simply because he shows up dressed in Sunday's best to pay homage to our lord the Vengeful and his deadbeat son. Oh, and I can't forget their insubstantial friend, the holy ghost, can I? Tell me, your honor, how ever did they get anyone to buy into the idea they are all the same guy? Funny, being both father and his son. Whoever worked that one out? One of Rome's brightest minds? Been drinking too much from one of those lead bowls, I'd hazard a guess.
J: You'll hazard a lot more than that if you keep this up.
P: I haven't finished -
J: Enough! I've had it! You're through!
P: You look upset.
J: I am upset! Excuse me. I need a moment. Let me look through these papers.
P: I didn’t mean –
J: Oh, but you did. I’m trying to push what you just said out of my mind because when it pops up again it makes it very difficult to be impartial.
P: I understand.
J: Why did you have to say such things? I understand certain people have opinions like that. But why do you have to throw them in my face? To you it’s all a joke. This whole thing is a joke.
P: Not at all –
J: Shut up. I’ve heard enough from you. You don’t seem to understand that some people actually believe. I know, some of it doesn’t make sense, but you are missing the point. And I’ve learned by now that you can’t educate someone like you.
P: Like me?
J: Look, I can accept that there are people who don’t believe. I’m not on a crusade. But what you just did – that was an attack, a vicious attack. I won’t hear any more.
P: I’m through.
J: Damn right.
P: Are you going to decide my case right now? Maybe you should take a break, let it sit awhile.
J: No, I’ll decide now. This whole thing is ridiculous. The court clerk must be playing a joke on me. It’s not even 1 April. I’m tossing this case out.
P: Tossing it out?
J: You can’t sue everyone! You hear me? You have to have a grievance against a specific person. Not the world in general.
P: I was making a point. I don’t want a monetary judgement –
J: And you seem to forget that from your point of view, I’m one of the bastards you are accusing. And frankly I don’t think I’m such a bad person at all.
P: Well, I see where you are coming from. I never thought –
J: Yes, well, that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?
(silence)
P: What’s going to happen now? Are you going to send me to the loony bin?
J: No. I was considering it. But the loony bin isn’t for you. You’re not crazy.
P: I’m glad to hear it. I guess I’ll be going.
J: No, you won’t.
P: Excuse me?
J: We’re going to charge you with a crime.
P: A crime? Look, I’m sorry if I insulted your religion, but last time I looked there wasn’t a law against it.
J: Well, well, well. Are you going to tell me about the law? It’s not one of the regular laws, of course. The one you have broken. But you see, there is the other set of laws. You don’t know what they are, but they exist. As far as I know, no one’s ever written them down. You’ll be charged with one.
P: Which one?
J: I’m not going to tell you, and I doubt you’ll ever find out.
P: Ah, is this one of those emergency laws?
J: Yes. And from what you have just said here today, if there ever was a reason for them, you’re it. You’re miserable, you say? We’ll, you can thank me for putting you out of your misery.
P: I’m going to die?
J: I didn’t say that. But you will disappear. No one will hear from you again.
P: What will happen to me?
J: To be honest, I’m not sure. We judges, we just send them up. I don’t know what happens after that.
P: Ah, I see. Good to see our government officials are on top of things.
J: Still making jokes, eh? Well, you’ll soon be cured of that.
P: So many laws. How many are there anyway?
J: The regular kind? Thousands, millions. Millions of laws.
P: Regulating every aspect of our lives.
J: Of course. We’ve got laws for who you can go to bed with and how. How many people can live in your home. What you can do with your money. Where you can put it. Who you can give it to, where you can take it to, and how much. We have laws against stealing unless a big corporation does it, in which case we call it business savvy. What you can wear, what you can eat, and what you can breathe. And there’s so much more! I think we’ve managed to cover quite a lot of life, wouldn’t you?
P: Unfortunately, yes. Your Freemocracy is nothing more than tyranny by law – a cruel tyrant with no face and no heart. What about these unwritten laws?
J: What about them?
P: Everyone knows about them?
J: Of course, didn’t you?
P: Yes, but I thought they were to be employed against enemies of the state.
J: But, my little friend, everything you have said here today tells me that you are an enemy of the state. You are so dissatisfied with your life in such a fundamental way that if we let you walk out of here you are bound to do something stupid and dangerous – eventually.
P: Do you know that?
J: It’s worth the risk.
P: Ah, yes, the cost of freedom. I’m so free, in fact, that every moment of my life has been mapped out for me. The only random piece of excitement was trying to figure out how I was going to pay off my credit card bill. I thank you for relieving me of it.
J: More jokes?
P: I don’t know what else to do. I was serious when I came in here.
J: Then even more the reason to send you off. Sir, everyone else deals with the situation by getting shitfaced as often as they can or becoming a fundamentalist Christian.
P: I don’t like either.
J: You see, the problem is in the wanting. If you had just learned to stay satisfied with TV, junk food, and boredom, you wouldn’t be standing here now about to be led away into oblivion. If you hadn’t wanted so extraordinarily much, you would have been happy and longer lived.
P: Once again, you hijack a basic truth and reduce it to a cruel simplicity which suits your ends. Yes, it is true that a human being can want too much. Hunger, an insatiable hunger, will devour him if he lets it. But it is one thing to want to be allowed to fulfill oneself and another entirely to want to enslave others to achieve power and wealth.
J: Yes, well, that’s the difference between you and I, isn’t it? I’ve still got a shot at the top, or near enough to it, haven’t I? Whereas you are hopeless. Not a chance at power or position in the world and you know it. Maybe it’s as simple as that.
P: So this is it then?
J: Yes. This has gone on long enough. Anyway, it’s time for my lunch. Take him away.
(Plaintiff exits)
J: Ladies and gentlemen in the audience, please do not be alarmed by what you have just witnessed. We permit these open sessions in the hope that our justice system seems accessible to everyone. Clearly, we didn’t expect that such a subversive and dangerous element of society would come before us here, especially with such a ridiculous set of complaints. If you have been upset by what you saw, we are truly sorry. However, take comfort in the knowledge that once you turn off your consoles the memories of what you have just witnessed will mercifully begin to fade, and within a short time you will have put this mess out of your mind completely and will hardly remember it at all. And just as well. There’s no reason to trouble your thoughts with complicated questions such as the nature of Freemocracy. If you feel the need to complain or talk to someone about what you have seen, don’t. Just keep working long hours and keep buying things, and everything will be alright. You have our word. Now, goodbye.