God and Charles Darwin want us to drive faster.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
On driving...

Submitted: June 27, 2013

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Submitted: June 27, 2013

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In a dream last night I saw a figure holding sparklers, then I heard a voice say to me, “Speak unto the people about their driving habits.” That was it. No further instruction. I can only assume it was God; the voice sounded omnipotent as hell, which is to say it seemed impatient and angry, like a perpetually exhausted parent. I awoke and pondered how to best make this message take shape, for I had no idea what to say. I have no problem with the way people drive. I love people. Everyone. Still, I have my faults, including the fact that I am a pompous little man, so the potential for condescension in this was and is off-the-charts. I apologize in advance for that. That and the language. It's really fucking bad sometimes. Sorry.

Still, it was one of those moments when you wake up and know if you don't get something out your head will explode. I took out my notebook and began to scrawl down ideas and considered the appropriate plan of attack. That said, I’m not entirely sure if I got His message right. This isn’t something I normally do, you know? When it comes to disembodied voices I prefer mine to say things like “Go the distance” and “Ease his pain,” and very little else. I’m trying to be an atheist, for God’s sake, and He’s really making it difficult for me to follow through. On the other hand He hates quitters.

I began to run through potential beginnings, because that’s where one should always begin according to Huxley and about a million people before and after him. I couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t result in SOMEONE getting pissed. I wrote a few things, then combined them into one lone, ridiculous, rambling paragraph. It’s funny how it all fits into the same sort of madness, going in the same direction. BUT ... again, I want to stress this is the result of me combining parts of previously written sentences to come up with something else. Just for fun. Ready? Ok.

“You crazy motherfuckers are going to kill everyone on the road and you don’t care! There are families out there. Slow the fuck down. Why don’t you care about anyone but yourself? Why are you in such a hurry? Don’t you know Jesus walks? Of course you do! You were listening to that goddamn song as you flew past before casually sliding into a hole in traffic too small for God’s dick! You’re being propelled down concrete on four inches of rubber at 88 miles per hour and you act like it’s a video game. Do you understand you’re going to cause a massive pileup and kill people?”

I stopped arranging slips of paper and looked up. Of course you understand. Hell, I understand and I'm an idiot. I also drive like total asshole sometimes, but then again I am invincible. (I mean, I’ve lived this long, right? I can probably fucking fly at this point, or at least bend spoons. Or not. Probably not.) I know, I know. You understand, but you don’t care. I know. Piss on me and my family and to hell that family in the van. You want to go 95 so you’re damn sure going to go 95. "Move, bitch. Get out the way or I'll go all Darwin on you bitches!"

I know. And so does He who is called I Am ... or maybe it’s just my subconscious … one of those is probably right. Who knows? Cui bono? Cui gives a good goddamn? That’s when the answer hit me like the wind hit Lot’s wife seconds after Sodom and Gomorrah was blown to bits by a G-Bomb – what we need is not less carnage on our roadways, it’s more. Much more. So, if it was Him who spoke to me, He clearly wants us to drive much faster and more recklessly. Survival of the fittest applies. If you're scared fall back or keep your ass at home and play Gran Turismo. It's basically the same thing anyway.

While we’re on the subject of natural selection, here’s something else I propose: no speed limits. None. Ever. And no school zones. And no fences around schools. Let’s let a few kids saunter into the road and get mowed down by an 18-wheeler in front of their classmates. Sure, every school is probably going to lose one of their peers, but a.) it will have been the dumbest one in each class, b.) it will bring the other children closer together and c.) everyone will learn running into the road is a bad idea. Innocent children too la-la-la-la-la to avoid getting crushed by fast-moving steel should definitely be protected. I suppose that means keeping them within the confines of a cage for their own protection. Did I say cage? I meant fence, as in the fence of a remote camps where the weak will be fed intravenously to the strong who require sustenance. It's cool. Just Darwin at work.

I’m not “for” any of this. Safety is paramount with no fences. Kids should walk around with pads and helmets like football players. That would cut down on some of the death, which makes this whole thing more feasible. The other alternative is to go back to the days of Safety Town or The Flintstones and use foot-propulsion. Or we could build every car out of rubber, safety foam and a recycled, eco-friendly newspaper that changes each day and provides extra padding around the head and neck and reading material on the long trip to work. Think of it, being able to read a newspaper while cruising down the lowway at a haphazard 10 miles per hour, AND it’s padding for your head when you get bumped by other people doing the same thing?

Personally I say we go back to the horse. Eco-friendly, yet still manly, right? Yes. Definitely. Would you call Doc Holliday a pussy if you saw him on a horse? What about Val Kilmer? Didn't think so. Harumph. I am all for horses, but I know it's doomed to fail. It's also a bit unnerving, come to think of it. Try to imagine Pat Bateman calmly sitting on a horse riding up to work with a bag of videotapes. Is there anything more terrifying? Of course not. And there’s no way some shark-toothed bastard in a suit that cost more than my car is going to ride a horse. At least not unless there’s a woman involved.

So what, then? Self-responsibility? Ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!! No! Don’t be silly. The answer is control! The answer has always been control. The answer will always be control. For this we need more cops. The ones we have are overworked as it is. Here’s how we do it (this fixes unemployment, too – you’re welcome): Think about all the homeless and not-homeless-but-still-unemployed people in this country. Deputize them. All of them - especially the crazy ones. We’ll give them each an old, beat up Crown Victoria car that they sell at auctions anyway and we post one of them every 2500 yards on every road in the country. We have enough of them to do this. I’ve counted. There would actually be thirty-seven people left jobless.

As to the other several million who become Deputies, their one job is simple: pull over anyone driving like a dick. Once apprehended, they will then whip the offender with special belts with the word “ON” in raised leather from end to end. These people will look in the mirror later and see "NO NO NO NO NO NO" in bright red welt marks on their ass, but they'll be a bit wiser. As to how to pay these lawmen, before each offender may leave they MUST give the deputy all the change on their person. The offender will put this change in a special can (just any old coffee can, provided by the deputy his or herself – this will be a tax write-off) that says “THANKS” in black sharpie.

This solves so many problems. Imagine, angry family man in the SUV, how much easier your life would be if you didn’t have to police these assholes yourself. You wouldn’t have anyone flying past you on the right at breakneck speed, which means you wouldn’t have to (to the horror of your family) mash your accelerator to the floor in a desperate effort to trap the speeder behind a slower car in the right lane. “But I really like doing that!” I hear a few people shout, and trust me … I know. I orgasm into a sock each and every time I stop someone from passing me on the right, but it does cause an inordinate amount of stress, both before and after the climactic event, and that’s dangerous. I’m all about safety.

To be honest, I’ll be happy to be rid of my duty, especially considering it will employ the unemployed and free up cops to do actual police work instead of lurking silently in the shadows of a pitch-black parking lot, night after night, like a serial killer waiting to strike. Anything is preferable to that sort of nonsense. 

 


© Copyright 2020 Thomas Sorrell. All rights reserved.

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