My Trip to Ancient Rome




~ Baraccus Kennedus Hilarious ~

Ever since Dr. Russell Humphreys accidentally invented the Time Machine, I've been making regular visits to the past.  It's one of the most delightful ways of relaxing, because you know, you can take as long as you want in the past and still be back home in time for dinner. 

Inventor of the Time Machine

Anyhow, on my last venture I decided to jog on down to ancient Rome, 232 AD, where I met an official-looking guy shuffling around in front of the “White House.”  He introduced himself as Baraccus Kennedus Hilarious. 
 

The White House

 

“Good to meet you! I'm Owlus,”  I said, to which he responded, “Well, you look like a barbarian!”  

I was at a loss for words. 

“Oh it's all right,” he said, “Barbarians are very welcome around here, especially illegal ones.  Of course, you'll probably want to keep your distance from The Old Republic-ans, unless they want you to cut their grass!  They're always saying barbarians are going to handicap our society and destroy the nation.  Haha, quite the load of bumbling hypocrites, those Old Republic-ans!  Anyhow, is there anything you'd like?  Maybe I can direct you to the local welfare office.  Or perhaps you want a duty-free stay at one of my palace apartments, complete with public bath and some ravishingly beautiful handmaidens?  Or if you're really quiet about it, I could even get you a seat in the Senate.  You may be just our sort of barbarian..."
 

Sign posted by Old Republic-ans

 

“Gee, thanks a lot,” I responded, relieved, “But I don't think I'll be staying long.  I am a little curious about the way you ancient Romans live though.” 

  “Oh, I hope you're not a spy.  If you are, we may have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

“No, no, I'm completely neutral.”

“Neutral?  You mean you're a eunuch?  Lovely!  It's getting very fashionable to become a eunuch these days.  Why, just last year this fellow Brutus Jennerus made all the headlines for how brave he was to become a eunuch... ahem, I should say 'she,' because he--I mean she--also thinks he's a she... It's a little confusing, but you have to just get used to it, you know...  Don't want to risk offending anyone, at least not when he's rich--I mean she, hahaha...”

“NO.  I meant I'm not a spy.”

“Oh!” 
 

"Catalina Jennera"

 

“So I was wondering if it's true, what I've heard about parents' rights here--that they can kill their children if they want to.” 

“Dear me, that's an awfully insensitive way of putting it...  But yes, every parent is allowed to... terminate his kid, if he finds it necessary.”

“What do you mean by 'necessary?'”

“Oh, that's a little hard to define.  But if you find it necessary in any way--you know, in any way--we perfectly understand.”

“Okay. How long does this right last?”

“Why, until the child is fully adult, of course!  That's when he's legally defined as a person, so it would be a little out-of-taste to go killing him at that point.  Unless the government decides to do it, and that's all right, because Caesar knows best.” 
 

Definitely NOT persons.



“Gosh.  Doesn't this seem a little heartless?” 

“Heartless?  Good Heavens, how can you call it heartless?  Do you realize how difficult it must be to deal with having a child? Aren't you the one being insensitive here?  Have you ever had a child?”  He was getting a little indignant. 

“Well no, not yet, but I didn't mean to be confrontational.   Tell me,” I said, trying to change the subject, “What about the gladiators and the wild animals in the circuses?”

“What about them?”

“Is it true you enjoy watching them tear each other to bits?” 

He sighed, as though exasperated by my bluntness.  “They're just dumb animals, that have no rights, and then gladiators, who aren't people either.   So it's clearly not real violence, it's virtual violence.  That's what we call it.” 

“Well, doesn't it even seem incompassionate?  Bad for the rest of you?” 

“What on earth do you mean, bringing up compassion here?  Violence has a completely natural attraction for us people; in fact, we'd be doing wrong to suppress our natural urge to enjoy it!  We need to de-stress, otherwise we'd kill each other!  I mean, more than we already do.” 
 

Wholesome entertainment after a long day

This time I sighed.  “Well, what about the Christians then?   Do you think it's right to be beheading them and feeding them to the lions, without any kind of defense at all?  Or burning them like torches at your evening orgies?” 

“The Christians are superstitious hate-criminals, which makes them even less human than the animals!  And I'm beginning to think you're one of them!”

“But you already have so many things you can enjoy!  You can play games!  Sing!  Dance!  Get married!  Study art and science!  Write blog posts!  You don't need to go doing these other things...” 
 

See, you could be doing this instead.

 

“Poppycock!  You can't tell me how to live my life!  If bread and circuses are what we want, then bread and circuses are what we shall have.  Besides, it's legal now, so there's nothing you can do about it.  Next thing I know, you'll be telling me to give women citizenship, or maybe free the slaves!” 

 

He seemed to be in a self-righteous frenzy now. 

 

“I see,” said I.   

 

And afraid of having to tread on coals—literally--I departed back to our own, more civilized era, where Christians aren't thrown to lions, or cut into bits, or burned as torches. 

 

Yet.  Except in North Korea.  And elsewhere.  Oh, never mind.