The Bad, The Good, And The Ugly

"Are you my...conscience?"

"Suprised?"

"Well, yes I am. Frankly I was expecting someone a little bit..."

"Older? A white-haired old man in flowing robes or something like that?"

"Yeah, something like that. But you're so young. I mean, you're just a child. How old are you anyways?"

"Old enough to know right from wrong. Don't feel bad - everyone expects their conscience to be old and wise, not some naive little kid just trying to fumble his way through."

"Yeah, it is quite a shock."

"What can I do for you? Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

"I don't know. I wasn't expecting to talk to a kid..."

"Oh, come, come - I know all y0ur secrets you know. Nothing you can say will suprise me."

"All my secrets?"

"All your secrets. All y0ur lies, all your forgetfulness', all your thoughtlessness', everything."

"Hey look - I think I've led a pretty decent life."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Give me one example of something I did that I should be ashamed of."

"Just ONE thing?"

"Yeah. Sure I might of told a white lie or two along the way, and maybe I forgot a birthday, but name me one thing that I should really be ashamed of."

"Ok, let's see...I know. How about back in the 6th grade. Remember Miss Z's class?"

"Sure I remember. I was a great student - model student really. A fine example for others to follow."

"Oh really. Do you think that's how Miss Z saw it? Is that why she had that talk with your father at the Parent-Teacher night? Remember what happened then?"

"You mean how my Dad grounded me for a month and made me read that 600 page astronomy book from cover to cover before he would allow me to watch TV again? You mean how he actually went through the book and tested me on it to make sure I read it? You mean how he came home from that meeting and sent me straight to my room and gave me that 'I've just had a talk with Miss Z and let me tell you there are going to be some changes around here' speech. Is that what you're talking about?"

"Doesn't sound like you were the model student to me."

"Well, ok, Maybe I was a little...you know...precocious."

"Do you remember why she had that talk with your Dad?"

"No, I never did find out what she told him. It was probably a big fuss over nothing. You know how Miss Z was. But I remember thinking at the time that it probably had something to with the flies in the overhead projector."

"The flies?"

"Yeah, a harmless prank. Don't you remember? Sheesh, some conscience you are. "

"Refresh my memory."

"Well, you see, the school I went to was a little overcrowded so the District brought in some portable classrooms. Miss Z's class was in one of the portables and I remember those things used to be ice cold in the mornings before class started. Anyways, the janitor would always let the kids in a little early so that he could go in and get the heater started before class began, and every morning when we walked in there would be hundreds and hundreds of these groggy little flies all stuck to the walls waiting for the heat to start so they could warm up their engines, so to speak, and get on with their little fly lives. So me and my friends would walk into the classroom and see these flies and we would start catching 'em - which was easy to do because they could barely even get their wings started when it was cold like that. I mean with one swipe of the hand you could catch like 10 or 15 flies at a time, easy. "

"And Miss Z didn't want you catching flies?"

"No, Miss Z didn't get in until the class was ready to start, which was about 10 minutes or so after the janitor used to let us in. No, what happened was one day I thought it would be really cool to catch a bunch of flies and throw them into the overhead projector."

"Why?"

"Well, you see, I thought it would be funny 'cause (I thought) when Miss Z turned on the overhead projector to show one of her little diagrams then the projector would light up and you would see all these flies crawling around the screen. At least that's what I thought would happen."

"And?"

"Well, I caught a bunch of flies - I don't know how many, a hundred, maybe more, and I put 'em into the overhead projector. You know it had this little panel that you would swing open so that you could change the light or whatever, and I caught all these flies and put them inside through the little panel."

"Yeah, I get you. Then what happened?"

"Well, the class got started and it was pretty boring as usual, and then around 2 hours into the class she wheeled up the overhead projector so that she could show these little charts she had drawn up. Miss Z was always one for showing little charts. Anyways, she plugged in the projector and I started laughing to myself because I knew that she was going to turn it on and everyone was going to see all these bugs crawling around on the screen and, I don't know, maybe Miss Z would let out a shriek or something. I didn't really know what was going to happen but I was sure it was going to be entertaining."

"I see."

"Look, I'll be the first to admit I was never the brightest kid in school. I mean I wasn't dumb but I certainly wasn't no scientist either, and I certainly didn't understand optics, or focal points or anything like that."

"So Miss Z turned on the overhead projector and..."

"Nothing happened. Nothing you could see anyways. I mean the flies were in there but they were so out of focus that you couldn't even see them. The prank was a total failure."

"So why did Miss Z talk to your father about it?"

"I don't know if she did or not, I just think she did. Anyways, you couldn't see the flies but they were in there and that overhead projector started getting really hot. And as it got hotter and hotter those flies started getting really agitated and flying around and bumping into things. And there was an exhaust fan on the projector, you see, and so there was this natural air current that ran through the little chamber where all the flies were. And the flies must of got wind of that current, so to speak, and all the while it was just getting hotter and hotter inside and so naturally the flies tried to follow that current out of there and flew straight into the fan. Like I said, I put a lot of flies in there and with all of them flying into the fan like that, well, pretty soon the fan started to get a little gummy with all the dead flies and fly pieces and such, and finally the fan got so gummy that it wouldn't turn anymore. So the fan got stuck and when that happened the light went out and the projector stopped working. It was some sort of safety feature I guess."

"And?"

"And, so Miss Z sees the projector stop and she figures that the light bulb must be burnt out or something. So she goes back to the projector and opens the little panel and..."

"Don't tell me."

"Yeah, it was a massacre in there. It looked the Little Big Horn of flies, corpses and little fly pieces lying everywhere, and only a handful of survivors buzzing around or dragging their crippled bodies across the bottom of the projector. It was a somber scene, man, and then Miss Z stands up and says 'What's going on around here?', so of course L.R., one of the other kids in the class, stands up says he saw me do it. Geez, what a little suck-up that kid was. Teacher's Pet, you know the type."

"And then what happened?"

"Nothing. I just told Miss Z I didn't do it and she couldn't prove I did, but I don't think she believed me."

"So let me get this straight. You tortured and maimed these poor little animals and then you lied to the teacher about it?"

"I didn't mean to torture and maim them. I didn't expect them to get all excited and start flying into the fan or anything like that. I'm not some kind of serial killer, for Christ's sake."

"But you did lie to the teacher?"

"Ah, leave me alone will ya."

"But I'm your conscience."

"That's right, I forgot. Yeah, I killed those flies and I lied to the teacher about it, and I'll probably burn in hell for it one day. Happy now?"

"Oh, give me a break. Let's not be overdramatic here, ok? I'm only your conscience, not your judge."

"Pffft, right!"

"No, I'm serious. Sure, I know all the bad things you've done, but remember I also know the good as well."

"Well thank you Mr Conscience, sir. At least I get credit for something around here."

"Of course you do. Remember your friend D back in the 4th grade?"

"Yeah, of course I remember D."

"Remember that day you rescued him from those kids at school."

"I didn't rescue nobody."

"Oh? That's not what I heard. Why don't you tell me about it."

"Nothing to tell. It was in the 4th grade and I was walking from tetherball courts over to the other side of the playground by the backstops when I look over behind one of the classrooms and see a bunch of kids standing around yelling at somebody."

"A bunch of kids? Who were they yelling at?"

"I'm getting to that part. So I walked over there and they're all standing around in a sort of semicircle and calling this kid some name I never heard before. So I walked up a little closer and I see my friend D standing in the middle of all these kids with his back up against the wall of the building and looking like he was gonna bust out crying or something."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And, what did you do?"

"Like I said I didn't do nothing. I just walked past the little semicircle and went up to D to ask him what was going on, only D was so upset that he didn't say anything. Anyways, after I went up to talk to him the crowd sort of broke up, I guess, and everyone just walked away."

"C'mon, there's more to the story than that."

"No, that's all that happened. I swear. Except for later that night when I was riding in the car with my Dad. I remember he had just bought some gas and we were leaving the gas station and I just kept wondering what it was that everyone was yelling at D that day. I mean it was a name I never heard before so I finally decided to ask my Dad what it meant."

"And what did he say?"

"Well, I asked him 'Dad, what's a Jew?', and he told me that it was some kind of religion, you know like some people are Catholics, and some people are Protestants, and some people are Jews.

"So what did you say?"

"I didn't say nothing. I mean, that didn't make any sense to me. At least I couldn't figure out why it would be a bad thing, or why anyone would call someone that. I knew there must be something more to it, something really awful, 'cause you know even the yard duties didn't try to break it up or anything. Usually if the yard duties see someone being harrassed like that they'll do something, but they didn't do anything. So I figured there must be something my Dad wasn't telling me, but I didn't press."

"Well if those kids had started beating him up the yard duties would have done something, wouldn't they?"

"I don't know. I've always wondered that. But as it turns out, they didn't have to do anything. No one got beat up."

"Because you broke it up."

"No, no, no. Look, I just went up to talk to my friend and that sort of broke the mood or something. I don't want to give the impression that I was trying to be some kind of hero or anything. It wasn't like some Hollywood Movie where the good guy gets up in front of the angry mob and stares 'em all down. It wasn't anything like that. It just happened, and then it was over."

"An unintentional good deed, perhaps."

"Yeah, purely unintentional. But I'll always remember that day. I mean, it will always stick in my conscience."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know, it's like people can be ok one-on-one because most times they want to make a good impression, but you get 'em in a crowd like that and it's like they lose all their inhibitions and show their true natures. You know what I mean? People in crowds are different than a person alone. You know, they're more themselves, and that's too bad."

"What do you mean. What's too bad?"

"I mean people are dirty bastards. They try to cover it up, but they're really just dirty bastards."

"Uh-huh, maybe some of 'em are. Anyways, what did you come here to talk to me about?"

"Ah, I don't know. Something's been buggin' me I guess."

"That's what I'm here for. What do you want to tell your conscience?"

"It's this whole war thing. Did you hear the news? 2,000 dead as of yesterday."

"So, what's that got to do with you?"

"You know what we've got? A war of attrition, that's what. It's true, even the generals and politicians say so."

"And what's your point?"

"You see a war of attrition is where you see which side runs out of live bodies first. They kill one of ours and we kill ten of theirs until finally one side or the other runs out of soldiers. It's like a giant spreadsheet where you just keep running the numbers and recalculating your odds and keep the score based on that day's tally of corpses. That's what a war of attrition is."

"I'm listening."

"So I'm asking myself why are we playing this game?"

"To spread democracy in Iraq."

"Oh yeah? Is that why we're doing it? You know I remember 9/11 and I don't remember any cries of "let's democratize Iraq" as the towers of the World Trade Center were coming down. As I remember it all people wanted to do back then was get an army together and go kick sombody's ass."

"So what are you saying? That we're in Iraq for revenge?"

"No, no...maybe...I don't know. I don't think so. You know what I think? I think we're in this war just so that we can feel good about ourselves again."

"Huh?"

"Sure. Nothing makes a person feel higher or mightier than to be engaged in some noble cause. Even if it's not us but someone else doing the sacrificing and dying, it's still ennobling when you can honor someone's who's laid down their life for you. It fills you with pride and purposefulness, you know what I mean. I don't suppose a person ever feels so righteous and moral as when he's honoring the dead."

"You know this isn't the kind of thing you should make light of."

"I'm not making light of it - it's the truth. Soldiers want to be heroes, and good citizens want to honor the dead. Why else would we be so eager to have them die in wars of attrition, if not to have the honor of being appreciative of their sacrifice. Politics aside, when you get down to it that's what most wars are about."

"You're crazy. Look, I may just be your conscience but even I know that without wars there would no means of ending tyranny or fighting injustice. Wars are horrible, but sometimes they're necessary."

"And sometimes wars are necessary because once started, they can't be finished. "

"Sooner or later, all wars come to an end. Anyways, I still don't see what any of this has to do with you."

"I realized when I heard the news about the 2000 deaths that I really don't pay that much attention to this war. I mean I catch it on the news every now and then, but it's not something I think about all that much. Like a lot of people I'm much more concerned about the price of gas or the latest natural disaster. The fact that 3 soldiers died, or 4 or 5 or whatever, doesn't even rate a mention on the front page anymore. It's just a little here, a little there, and slowly the numbers build and build. And yet when it comes time to honor the dead I'm the first to stand up and give out a hearty 'here, here'. What do you think about that? What do you make of a people that are so proud to have their soldiers die, just as long as they don't intrude on their lives or interrupt their primetime schedules?"

"I think it makes them good citizens who support their country."

"Or..."

"Yes?"

"A bunch of dirty bastards."