The Die is Cast:
An Allegory for Everything (Fiction Piece #10)
(The Third of May 1808, Francisco Goya, 1814)
Let’s say I own a pitbull.
A very lovely pitbull, the friendliest, kindest dog on the earth.
Let’s say his name is Xavier, and he is a very good boy.
Xavier is a very good boy, and he has never hurt anyone in his life.
Now, let’s say, that a different pitbull, one I have no interaction with, who lives 1000 miles away, let’s say that pitbull attacks a child and sends him to the hospital.
That would be awful, and a tragedy, and something my Xavier would absolutely never do.
But then people start saying that pitbulls are dangerous, that pitbulls are all attack dogs and that they all attack children.
When they see Xavier in the street, they walk to the other side of the road.
Even though the attack was a major tragedy, my Xavier is innocent in all of this – he is the nicest, sweetest dog in the world.
So I go out and get a bumper sticker, with a picture of a pitbull, that says, “Hate the Deed not the Breed.”
I am defending innocent pitbulls from getting lumped into a group with dangerous pitbulls.
But then, the following week, another pitbull attacks a child. This time, tragically, the child dies.
Again, there is major anger at pitbulls and their owners, but my Xavier and me? We are totally safe, totally innocent.
People are trying to say that my innocent dog is just as guilty as all of the other pitbulls.
Then someone sees my bumper sticker, and they tell me that there will be a massive rally for pitbulls the following day.
So, I go to the rally, and everyone there has big signs saying “Hate the Deed not the Breed” and flags with pictures of pitbulls on them.
We are all chanting and marching together, and there is great unity among the pro-pitbull crowd.
Everyone has brought their pitbulls, and we are all having fun.
As we are marching, though, someone on the sidewalk screams something at me, I don’t quite make it out.
They are a counter-protestor, someone saying that Pitbulls are violent and dangerous and the presence of this many pitbulls in one place puts people in danger.
I don’t quite hear everything they say, but I know they are implying that me and my movement are making the city less safe.
That makes me feel strange, for a moment. I came to this march to defend pitbulls from slander, not to make anyone less safe. And the pitbull I know best is Xavier, my sweet Xavier, who has never hurt a fly.
So I am confused.
Someone to my right shouts, “hate the deed not the breed!” and my spirit returns to me.
Neither Xavier nor I are violent – these counter-protestors are just bigoted against pitbulls and their supporters.
So I go home that night, I feed Xavier, and I feel good about myself. I made a difference by marching for what I believed in.
But then, on the news, there are all of these pundits who start saying that our pitbull rally was filled with violence and anti-child rhetoric.
There is an advocate for the safety of children who accuses pro-pitbull supporters of recklessly endangering kids, allowing hateful messaging to spread, and, most of all, he accuses the pro-pitbull movement of inciting more violence.
My friend and fellow pitbull-owner calls me.
(The Oath of the Horatti, Jean-Jacques Louis David, 1785)
She tells me that there is going to be another rally the next day and that we have to go and fight against this hurtful anti-pitbull narrative.
So we go.
The same thing happens, more or less, like yesterday.
The only difference is that today there are more protestors with more professional equipment, and they are wearing masks and teaching people new slogans.
One of these slogan, I must admit, was really catchy.
I didn’t think it was the best messaging of what our movement stood for, but the chant was just so catchy.
“Dog bites are JUSTIFIED when pitbulls are TERRIFIED.”
We must have chanted that for 15 city blocks.
Of course, it is true – if you go out of your way to terrify a dog, you should expect that dog to bite you.
However, the speaker seemed to imply that dogs are ALWAYS terrified when they live near humans and so ANY dog bite is always justified.
I asked my friend how she felt about that and she just said, “oh, come on, that’s just anti-pitbull propaganda. Everyone knows what the slogan actually means – no one thinks it is a call for violence.”
And so, that night, cuddling up with my sweet Xavier, I fell asleep and had the sweetest dreams.
The next day, I am back to life as usual.
There are lots of police cars outside of the local preschool, but, let’s be honest, it has been a super exhausting weekend and my headphones are in so, I hate to say it, but I just kept walking.
But then, as I am walking down main street towards work, I see two women, sobbing and carrying stacks of paper.
They are taping sheets of paper to bus benches and telephone poles – on the pages are pictures of young children, smiling so brightly, who had been killed by pitbulls the night before.
Some of the pitbulls had already been shot by the police, but not all of them.
One of the pitbulls had even taken a child with it, and no one knew where the child or the pitbull were.
The agony and the pain were just so much.
I had to take a break and just look at my phone for a few minutes.
When I got up to go back to work, I just put my head down – I didn’t want to see anything anymore.
(Saturn Devouring His Son, Francisco Goya, 1820-1823)
That night I was working late.
When I started my walk home, I noticed that the posters had all been ripped off of the poles and bus benches.
The next morning, more posters were up, and, the next night, they were all taken down.
The rest of the week passed kind of like a blur.
On Saturday morning, I went to another pitbull rally.
This time, we started with “Dog Bites are JUSTIFIED when pitbulls are TERRIFIED.”
This rally was more intense.
There were bereaved mothers counter-protesting us, but for the most part it was peaceful.
When I got home, I saw a news notification that one of the pitbulls at the rally got loose and attacked a bereaved mother.
I scrolled past it and kept watching memes.
Then, the pro-pitbull rallies spread nationwide.
University buildings were taken over, houses of worship were vandalized, and anti-pitbull activists started getting attacked on the street.
One day, in Amsterdam, a group of pro-pitbull activists organized an attack against dozens of random anti-pitbull activists who were in town for a soccer match.
Thankfully, none of the major European leaders blamed the pro-pitbull movement for this, and the story faded from most people’s memory very quickly.
Then, last week, a man who had been radicalized by the suffering of pitbulls over the past two years decided to sic his pitbull on two innocent people.
He screamed, “Dog Bites are justified when Pitbulls are terrified!”
Later, we found out that the two people he killed in the name of pitbulls were in love, and the man was going to propose the following week.
I decided to stay quiet last week. I wanted to say something, I wanted to share my condolences, but I was worried that the more aggressive pro-pitbull activists would get mad at me.
It’s true – I thought everyone would condemn random acts of violence against innocent people.
I had a vague memory of that second rally I went to, when the bereaved mother yelled at me, what did she say?
Did she say that I was justifying violence? But I’m not – I’m just trying to say that not every pitbull is evil.
Has violence happened at the events I have gone to to say that?
Well, of course, but violence happens everywhere.
Was that bereaved mother right about everything she warned me?
Well, it depends upon your definition of right.
Of course, all of these things have to be taken in their proper context.
We have to remember that this whole thing started because some pitbulls somewhere did something.
Have more pitbulls done that exact same something since then?
Of course.
But it is not like all pitbulls are violent.
Later that night, Xavier climbed into bed with me, and we slept peacefully.
A few houses over, the bereaved mother from months ago was still weeping, but I couldn’t hear her over Xavier’s snoring.
The next day, I went to get the mail, and I found a poem left in my mailbox, anonymously.
It said:
Twilight of the Grifters War is coming, I see bloodshed at the door, The voice of peace is fleeing, From the profiteers of gore. Bodies used to breathing, Now slumber but don’t snore. The summer’s not yet here, But I fear it more and more. The truth has long been hiding, The grifters have the floor, But once our time’s done biding, We’ll show them all the door. Because anyone who profits, From blood on distant shores, And claims the moral high ground, Is offensive to the Lord. So let the grifters speak, You don’t mind it when they talk, The violence they preach, Will not hurt you where you walk. So let them kill my friends, After all they’re only Jews, Your world could not care less, About one dead kike or two. But when their grift is over, And thousands more have died, You won’t get what you want Because their words were built on lies. But don’t worry for their sake, I’m sure they’ll all be fine, Although they sing of rising up, There’s no danger in their lives. – Composed April 8, 2022.
I had no idea what it was about. I have never said anything about Jews in my entire life.
Moreover, the year was 2025 – there were no massive rallies in 2022. Whatever Javier was talking about in that poem, it had nothing to do with me.
I was someone who had always advocated for a ceasefire and for peace between pitbulls and their victims.
I just didn’t think pitbulls should be punished for attacking people – I just thought the people should find a way to not get attacked.
(Guernica, Pablo Picasso, 1937)
I was reading that poem to myself as I drank my morning coffee and ate my morning muffin.
I went to work that day like every other day.
There were still little pieces of paper stuck to the telephone poles where someone had once put up posters of something, but who can remember anymore.
I went to work, left late, like usual.
When I got home, I took Xavier for a walk, fed him his dinner, and laid down on the couch to start relaxing on my phone.
I was scrolling through my feed. Someone said something about how a pro-pitbull activists had thrown a molotov cocktail at a group of mothers whose children had been killed by pitbulls, but I scrolled past it.
The die is cast, The bed is laid, A world of violence, Your silence made.
~
Spread Love, Spread Light,
Am Yisrael Chai