Jumping the Puddle

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Although I don't consider myself an activist, there have been times when I've felt compelled to speak up about important issues. Today, I'm setting aside all this crazy tomfoolery to address a much neglected topic: immigration. I know, I know. Immigration is so 1492. But in a time of political agendas and red herrings, someone needs to call for a return to democracy and justice. And that someone is you. Wait, no. ME.

I've had a problem with immigration since I was a child. In the 1980s, immigration was known as "sharing." From the ages of 3-7, I had a fundamental objection to illegal immigration. I had my hard earned shit, my toys, my Mommy, my room, and no one, NO ONE, was going to intrude. Then I found out that Mommy and Daddy were expecting an immigrant from the country of Heaven. I immediately protested. This immigrant could not speak my language and hadn't earned his place in our home. I, on the other hand, worked my ass off as a magical ballerina and was subject to (and dutifully obeyed) the rules of the Land, even the bedtime and pea-eating provisions. Would our culture be diluted beyond recognition? Would resources be strained? Would this immigrant pose a danger to our family's physical well-being? How was one to know the outcome without a rigorous screening process and a comprehensive identification and tracking system in place?

I realized that some might think that my objections were "selfish" and "bratty," but I truly had altruistic motivations. Would this immigrant, who did not have the skills to be a magical ballerina, be compensated fairly for his work? Or would his early career be limited to simple tasks like pointing, spitting up, and pointing some more? Would he even try to work, or would he spend his days lazily mooching off my hard earned milky, a victim of the brutal and uninviting playpen subculture?

You might be thinking that I am an anti-Heavenite. Far from it. I had a lot of friends from Heaven, with whom I spoke to and played with regularly. I'm all for tightly regulated and controlled immigration. Take my friend Suzie. Suzie, a non-native of my home, had successfully integrated herself into all that was mine through the Scheduled & Monitored Visitor (SMV) program. She first interviewed with my Mommy and then gradually earned her place in my Land. She too worked as a magical ballerina, paid taxes (the Tax Code dictated that she must "do what I say") and successfully navigated the intricate swingset regulatory scheme.

In conclusion, we need not go further than our own childhood back yards to find the solutions to the problem of immigration. Let's create a comprehensive, compassionate immigration system that protects the interests and safety of our nation while allowing others to benefit from the bountiful resources of our Land. Amen.


At 4/15/2006 10:49 PM, Blogger Adam said...

Ha...childhood back yards...I like your proposal...a fence!

At 6/20/2006 1:07 PM, Blogger Jon said...

Where'd you go?


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home