Reading fairytales as a kid used to be simple. The wolf was bad; the pigs were good. Goldilocks was good; the bears were bad. Jack of beanstalk fame was good; the giant was bad. It’s the same for government. Eisenhower, referred to as the bland leading the bland, was good. Kennedy was good when we didn’t know of his extracurricular activities. The bad guys were outside the USA. With the Internet and open dialog of the underserved, good and bad guys depend on the mood you’re in. TMI (too much information) clouds the facts.
My grandson of 2-and-a-half has reintroduced me to fairytales, and I’ve introduced him to politics. He loves to have me read each fairytale over and over again: “The Three Little Pigs,” “The Three Bears” and “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Each time I get new insight into the story and a new view of who really is the antagonist and who is the protagonist. Bad wolves are a myth, especially the one in “The Three Little Pigs.” The pigs are no victims, either. First of all, the new version I’ve been reading doesn’t have the wolf wanting to eat the pigs; the wolf simply wants to share some room in the house. After all, did the pig pay for his own house? No! He was given the straw or sticks or bricks to build it. Given? Doesn’t that sound like a government plan? “Please, sir, may I have some sticks to build a house?”
“Certainly!” some government agent replied. And then the pigs each went out to build a straw house, a house of sticks and a brick mansion. “Look, kid,” I tell my grandson, “this is a government handout if I ever saw one.” He responds by biting the book and saying, “again,” as in quit talking and start reading the story.
My grandson’s favorite part is when the wolf cries “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow the house down,” after the wolf says “Little pig, little pig, let me in” and the pigs refuse to share.
It feels the same way in politics. Let’s just say the pigs are politicians who have been given money (straw, sticks, bricks) to help their constituents to a better life. Maybe the donations are taxes, lobby money or other sources. Here comes the wolf, an idealistic citizen but maligned by the power brokers; this alpha wolf, who lives with a pack and just wants food and shelter and no trouble, would like to share ideas with the pigs who are snug as a bug in a rug, but the pigs aren’t sharing. A little leverage from the wolf comes in the form of huffing and puffing. If the pigs aren’t going to listen to the wolf, then the wolf will howl and get a little aggressive. Now the pig in the brick house succeeds in driving the wolf away, while the other two pigs fail, perhaps not getting re-elected. Why? “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” My grandson gets tired easily and asks for a sippy cup.
Don’t get me started on “The Three Bears.” Just look at Goldilocks; she has search and seizure violations written all over her. Breaking into the three bears’ home is one thing, but eating the kid’s porridge, sitting in all chairs and breaking the kid’s chair, and finally messing up all three bears’ beds “¦ what’s this all about?
I’ve already told my grandson that the fourth Bill of Rights is being violated over and over here: “The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects, against unreasonable searching and seizures, shall not be violated”¦” I don’t know why he doesn’t want to hear this part, but at this time he tries a headstand on the couch.
Goldilocks should have been arrested rather than frightened by the family of bears. Home invasion is a serious felony in the woods. Goldilocks looks good, but so does an official from the government with a badge and the intention of breaking down your door under the protection of the Patriot Act.
Take another look at “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Here’s a poor kid with no common sense who doesn’t listen to his mother. “Sell the cow at the market” are her parting words. Mom is like the legislative branch of our government. Jack trades the cow for magic beans the way the executive branch appears to be doing without permission from the legislative branch. Rather than send him to juvenile hall, Mom sends him to bed without dinner, and she throws the magic beans out the window. Voila! A giant beanstalk appears.
Jack climbs up the beanstalk and steals the giant’s gold one day, the hen that lays golden eggs the next day and a magical harp the last day. With the help of the giant’s wife, he escapes each time. The harp wants the giant to rescue the harp. In turn, Jack chops down the beanstalk and the giant dies a brutal death. Is Jack a felon or a hero? Sure, you’ll argue that his mom benefits from his deeds, but at what cost?
By now my grandson is asleep. I whisper to him that the magic beans are the means to evil results, no matter how much giants are disliked. Jack intruded on the giant’s property without permission.
All in all, government is a lot like a fairytale, and wolves seem to get a bad rap. I’m not willing to take on “Little Red Riding Hood.” Violence on the Internet is nothing compared to this tale, and a woman-eating wolf is harder to justify. However, I’m switching to Barney-approved stories, the kind I remember from Eisenhower days.