It takes twenty verses or so to tell us of all
the blessings we’ll earn if we follow the rules.
It seems like a lot until you see the forty
or so that follow, telling us of all the curses
we’ll suffer, if we don’t. Shouldn’t it be the
other way around? I don’t tell my son I
will chastise him for eternity if he doesn’t
brush his teeth. I might take story away for
one night. Possibly deny him a dessert-based
snack. But that’s the extent of it. I don’t
mean to criticize the author, or the authors or
the rule makers, or the interpreters of the
ancient rules…I mean I need to know
how to consecrate my fields just like the
next guy in twenty-first century suburban
Van Nuys. And I know if I litter, or go faster
than I should, there will be consequences
and I’m okay with that and, and I want you all
to know that I would never litter and the
people who litter make me awfully mad
but we are all humans, and it is tough
out there to be a human, and sometimes
a piece of paper flies out of your hand
because of a wind, and you have no control
over the weather, so can’t they keep that
in mind when they levy the fine, and is it
really necessary to have forty verses of
punishments when the wind can just
lift things out of your hands and you
can’t do anything about it, I mean let’s
just all be good. I want to be good.
I want to be good so bad. I don’t need the
carrot on the stick or the promise of a
cookie or the threat of fleeing from no-one.
Let us grow strong from our desire to
be the goodest we can be.
Let us be so strong.
Let us be so strengthened.
