Judicial Review

As Joe and Casey wandered away from camp, Parker decided to invest himself in the conversation at hand.

"I wanna tell a scary story."

Gordon chided: "Is Jesus the main character?"

"No," Parker said earnestly.

"Is it another story about you fucking?"

Mali's candor caught both Parker and Gordon off guard, but relief settled with a minxy smirk from a very coy Thai girl.

"No, it's nothing to do with God, it's about what scares me, out here, in the real world."

"Alright then Parker the Zealot, take the proverbial speaking ball and go."

You know what I fear? I'm afraid of the legal system. There are killers, born an bred walking the streets. Let out of jail for heinous crimes that are beyond anything incidental, that surpass morality. Ever heard of Karla Homolka? She let her husband rape others, going as far as to help with the process and capped it off with giving him her sister as a wedding gift. Her sister died and she was arrested, but she only served 12 years and is currently out in the real world. There are a pair of school shooters in our lifetime that are free and walking around. These two kids shot five people including eleven and twelve year olds and there is a possibility we can run into them. The only thing quelling my fear is that I know there judgment will find them eventually, even if it falls to God to make the claim. There's a guy who ate a woman in Japan who now gives speeches and gets paid to talk about eating her. What kind of filth ridden society are we? He has even expressed a desire to do it again. This is why i have faith in God, because man will continually let you down. Man will make mistakes, will embrace what are very obviously horrifying, sinful acts that will bring nothing but more pain. these people continually repeat these offenses, killing and murdering and raping and we let them roam with quiet resignation. at least I know there will be repercussions when they finally do die.

"I'd agree mate, you are right to a degree, but nothing is ever as simple as your bloody deity lays it out."

In Europe a few years ago, there was a man named Armin Meiwes who placed an ad looking for a volunteer. The ad was new in the regard that there wasn't to be an exchange of goods necessarily, Armin was looking for someone to offer themselves physically. Armin wasn't looking for something of a sexual nature either, he wanted the body permanently. He wanted to bloody eat them. The crazy part, someone actually answered the ad. He wined and dined the fine gentleman, then proceeded to feast on him, even going as far as to try to feed him his own cooked genitals. Unfortunately the poor gent couldn't partake since the blood loss relieved him of his life. Armin carved the gent right up, eating him for a good while. Poor Armin dug his own grave by filming the ordeal and attempted to place another ad. The second ad was met with sirens and bobbies right up his arse. Quite the predicament, is it not, I mean how much can we really govern ourselves. Are we allowed to let someone kill us, how far does voluntarism reach?

"Well Gordon, I'd say the man had the devil in him, but I'm sure you're expecting that."

What's On Your Mind

With the evening's festivities now simmering with the fading embers of the bonfire, Joe deftly stole Casey's arm and led her away from the campsite and back toward the road. In the shadow of the van, silhouetted in moonlight, they shared a cigarette and debated the oddness of finding themselves in Texas.

"I don't think we should stay long," Casey relented.

"I agree with you. This place already reminds of me of Utah."

"Did you know less than five years ago, it was still legal to arrest homosexuals here?"

"Don't worry," Joe said shaking his head. "We're bound to find a blue state sooner or later -- the black man did win the presidency, didn't he?"

Casey shrugged. "Well, for better or worse, here we are."

"Story time?" Joe offered with a grin, holding up a die between his forefinger and thumb.

"I'm tired, Joe--"

"Just a rant, then."

Casey sighed and relented, her exhaustion evident in her big brown eyes. She leaned against the van, inhaled the last drag from the smoke, then cast it to the dirt.

"I read an article the other day. For the however-many-eth year in a row, public speaking has been rated the number one phobia among Americans between the ages of consent and Social Security. Death - that is, of course, permanent termination of all biological functions - still rates second. The whole thing baffles me, really. And it's because I don't understand how someone could be afraid to stand up and speak in front of others - or that I don't get why people are afraid to die - but these are not the scariest things I can think of, not by a long shot.

Have you ever been sitting in your car? Sure you have. Of course you have. You're sitting there -- you could be stuck in traffic and waiting for the light to change, or you're sitting next to the big speakerbox at the drive-thru, or you're just... driving -- and you can hear and and see and maybe in the summer when it's nice and your windows are down you can smell... all of these things going on around you, outside of your car and outside of you.

It's panic-inducing, don't you think? Like you're struck with this sensation that you have somewhere to be, or that you're just not supposed to be there, at least. It happens to me a lot when I'm sitting in my car.

Not always, though. Sometimes I get like that when I'm trying to fall asleep, or when I'm standing in the shower just spacing out to the drone of water against linoleum, or whatever, really. Sometimes I just feel that... pull, that tug, that's telling me... you know...

Get the fuck out. Run. Go.

Don't look at me like that.

Casey paused to give Joe a level-eyed stare. He shifted his weight between his feet and waited for her to continue.

It's not like I feel that way all the time or anything.

Another awkward pause, replete with a score by the local fauna.

Forget it, Joe. Just pretend I never said anything.