The Crying People
Our school masters told us that we were good. The moral fiber of a nation is deeply important. That is why pages four, seventeen, and fifty-nine were redacted. History requires a snake charmer. The past will bite you without the corrective hermeneutics of patriotic caution. Civilization is purified by the best of us. When we became too careless in play, a stern neighbor would be quick to remind us of our high place. There is an awesome responsibility that follows righteous stewardship. We make up the hedge that keeps out tyranny and barbarism. Singing songs to that end made the doubts crumble. Reciting pledges reinforced our destiny. And when the washing machines got too loud, the choir sang louder. It got to a point where the afternoon creed made us hoarse from competing with those infernal contraptions. Blood does not come out too easily, so say freeloading dreamers. Some of the dissidents whisper seditious lies that ought to be ignored. Watching uniforms dry is banned because they are sacred, not for the reasons they imply. I will admit to not knowing what the crying people did wrong, but neither can I match the scholarship of our fine generals. My mother used to buy bread from the crying people, a married couple. They seemed nice enough. These things are difficult for a youth to understand. I just know that if you get enough of the crying people together, they become disorderly and defiant. Being good only works with iron discipline. You can not entertain every thought that pops into your head. Where would society be if men were to strum all the chords of their heart. I'm not saying the crying people are bad, they just need guidance. I might go deaf if those washing machines don't quit. Remember to drink water when being good takes away your appetite. You will dehydrate far before you starve. If I tell you a secret, you must promise not to tell. When the city made the crying people move away for good, the block laughed so hard I could not hear the uniforms getting cleaned. Thankfully they could not also hear me become one of the crying people, if not only for a night.
