I begin with the premise that suffering is a commodity like everything else.
"Don’t kid yourselves, they wont make a ruckus in America," say the apparatchiks at Wal-Mart’s hindquarters.
She’s just a disabled woman who can’t go back to work and now that she’s won a minor lawsuit against the trucking company that left her brain damaged, let’s sue her to get that money since our corporate health care plan had to pay for her over the past three years. And what the heck, let’s sue the woman for more than she received in damages—who cares if she has to live in destitution. It’s only fair you see, because suffering is a commodity and we at Wal-Mart are always, always rolling back the prices."
I kid you not.
Wal-Mart trots out its public relations hacks. They have the hubris to argue that the solvency of their employee’s health care plan depends on putting this woman into bankruptcy.
Heck, this argument worked with the court.
What’s the difference between a Reaganite court and the Sermon on the Mount?
We no longer have to strive to alleviate suffering. We commodify it like everything else.
What’s my second premise?
It’s raining like mad in America.
Our ancestors stare mutely at us from inside every rain drop.