I don’t believe in things that go bump in the night. There is always an explanation, for everything. Take the universe. It just did not happen because some strange deity, who had not even thought of a name for itself, deemed it so. The universe began because all the energy that was ever around was gathered in one tiny point. It was like a cola bottle that was shaken up and shaken up until it could hold onto itself no more and burst the lid off before going everywhere. I tried this out on my birthday when I was fourteen and it made a bit of a mess in the front room. Neither Mum nor Dad were too happy about that and I was banned from ever having cola, or any fizzy drink, in the house again. That was the first time that my mum really ever shouted at me and it was the first time that Dad just stood back and let her. My sister, who saved all of her interactions with me for just such events, screamed at me as well before Mum realised what was happening and shunted her off into her own room.
“Why do you both always take his side?” she asked angrily. “Just because he’s a half-wit doesn’t mean that he is incapable to telling right from wrong.”
I thought I knew what right was but was unsure with wrong. Most of what I found was about people doing things which were unjust of immoral. I was certain that shaking a cola bottle up to the point of explosion was not something that could be described as unjust or immoral; not even in certain parts of the United States of America. I can imagine that that Trump president did lots of shaking up in order to get things to explode, but surely, he wasn’t either unjust or immoral. I think what I did was just an event that had an unfortunate, unwanted outcome. So, I wasn’t doing wrong. Anyway, by not doing wrong and by not being able to fully foresee the possible outcome, I had done wrong and nobody was prepared to understand my version of events.
I did try to present my case, but it’s hard to do so from the other side of a closed bedroom door.