Disarming the War Machine: A Fairy Tale

In a place I’ve lived, and in some ways, oddly enough, miss, there was at the center of town a giant beast, a monster with a million arms and a million teeth. It’s noxious breath kept the air black and unfit to breath. It’s mass filled the streets so that it was unsafe to walk. It’s red eyes lit up the night, and it’s gurgling belly filled it with noise, so much that visitors found it impossible to sleep. Despite the monster’s intimidating appearance and annoying habits, the people of the town had come to believe that it had always been there, would always be there, and that life was generally impossible without it. The beast’s faults withstanding, people considered it quite benign.

However, the beast did have a voracious appetite, and over time its gluttony became a serious nuisance. The people first noticed when it gobbled up all the local forestry and with it, the wildlife. Then, it drank the life out of the streams. Then the nitrogen from the soil, and the mineral from the rock, till all that was left of the once beautiful landscape was rubble. Then, the monster turned on the people. And though it was known to take anyone as its prey, it showed a distinct preference for the youngest children. For many days it feasted, and eventually people took notice.

The older townspeople knew this was of serious concern, but they also knew it would be some time before the monster turned on them. They wanted to act, but were hesitant. The monster had been an everyday part of their entire lives. “What horrible catastrophes might happen if it was removed?” asked one man, momentarily forgetting that the beast had recently swallowed his daughter.

The younger people knew they had much more to lose. So one evening as the monster slept, a few children decided to act. Drunk on wine or life and under cloak of night, these young rebels bravely tiptoed up to the monster. Using nothing more than handsaws and pocketknives, they climbed into the monster’s jowls and set to work uprooting the monster’s teeth!

In the early morning, the monster woke, and with its waking stretch, it scooped up all the children that were born that night, tossing them all in its maw. The bones snapped, and the flesh squished, and blood drooled down the monster’s chin, and the mothers, still feint, cried.

But this morning, something unusual happened. This morning, while the monster was chewing its meal with its million teeth, a few of the newborns slipped out, landing safely in the arms of onlookers. The monster winced with disgust and shock, and in doing so revealed a small handful of gaps where the children had removed teeth the night before.

Those who know me do not describe me as a sentimental person, but when I recall this moment, I swell with emotion. I remember the babies, only moments ago doomed and now reborn, pardoned, and for a glorious moment, this monster, which had consumed the world, seemed vulnerable. The townspeople looked to the monster, then to one another, and many wondered aloud if now was time that they too should raise their handsaws, their pocket knives, their crowbars, torches and shovels, and finally clip the monster at its teeth. The time was right, but there were still so many teeth, and they were still so sharp.

As the townspeople looked to one another for answers, wondering what to do, how, and whether, to act, eyes eventually focused on the town crier. The monster also looked to him, its teeth glimmering. The crier stuttered... “C...C...Cursed children!” his voice cracked. “They damaged our monster! Our monster!!”

“Besides,” one citizen offered, “T...Those teeth are just going to rot in a landfill! Pulling them out is not eco-friendly!” (This wasn’t true; the teeth were recyclable!)

“If we’re going to overcome the monster,” one declared with more confidence, “it can’t be through violence. It must be done peacefully.”

One by one, the townspeople offered reasons why it wrong to stop a monster from eating them. The children could only sit there, amazed. Looking back, some say the people were not ready to see the monster go. I was there. I saw, they were ready. They simply weren’t willing to risk anything themselves. After all, the monster did have many teeth.

In the end, the children were labeled “ecoterrorists,” and an investigation was ordered. A grand jury was assembled, witnesses were detained, evidence seized, and eventually they were each convicted on Felony terrorist charges for each tooth removed. Now, the townspeople will never have to hear their pleas of conscience again.

Today, these monsters cover the Earth. Some say, there are more of them than of us! What a hopeless situation! When uprooting the teeth that feed on us is and act of violence, peace looms close by, in the bliss of extinction. That’s funny... Sitting in this barren cell, even extinction doesn’t seem that bad.