Slaughtered Lambs


Flourishing his small, well-worn copy of the constitution, the old Senator staunchly holds the floor. The Constitution, he explains, vests the President with the power to act as commander-in-chief and grants him the authority to defend the nation from a pending attack. But never the power to declare war autonomously.

"How dare they claim that you are either with the president or against him!" he rails. "I am not with the President, I am with the Constitution, and the Constitution says that only congress shall declare war!"

Now the Senator retrieves his bifocals and rests them precariously atop the bridge of his nose.

"I have nothing against those who were born lucky. Nothing against those privileged brats who never had to wipe the sweat off their brow to earn their daily bread or wear tennis shoes in the snow. But I also know the tale of a rich man who was blessed with many fields, and herds, and fine buildings to store the fruits of those fields. And that rich man lived beside a poor man. And this poor man only had one little lamb with whom he shared his only bed of straw and his single bowl of pottage. And when a famine came upon the land, and the people cried out, did the rich man cull a fat lamb from his own herds for the feast? No he did not! He slaughtered that poor man's only little lamb. So let us think before we act, (and here the Senator's shoulders began to softly tremble) about the many mothers lying on their pillows across this country tonight...worrying about their poor little lambs."

"When the only tool you own is a hammer, every problem begins to resemble a nail."
-Abraham Maslow


(Foodism Magazine 2002)