An ambitious group of apple chomping, knife toting, hunter-gatherers once descended upon an alien land. Shipwrecked and with hunger knocking against the walls of their vast bellies, some among the apple chomping, knife toting, hunter-gatherers ventured afar; only to stumble upon a bewildered and larger group of apple chomping, club toting, leaf-clothed hunter-gatherers.
Geographic expansion was high on the knife-toters’ agenda, and they pursued their noble intention of civilisation in ignoble ways. They did not need an invitation for an encore. Quick to unleash the power of their knifes and sabres, they overpowered the club-toters, driving many out for good and subjecting the rest to new-found freedom.
On scanning the spoils, the knife-toters learned that the indigenous group seemed to be carrying an odd contraption that seemed to possess wondrous qualities.
The knife-toters had discovered the Gin.
A few sampled it and the results were splendiferous. Gin seemed to be a necessity in this land. Vast uninhabited landscape now abounding with many of their own trigger-happy ilk had left many in the knife-totter community in the grip of insecurity. They spent so much time together that they grew increasingly scared of their own ilk. They put together a system with elected representatives from their group…and then feared the possibility of turncoats within this group. Trust, but self-defend, often zealously; came to be entrenched in their psyche.
So they enshrined into Law, that ‘citizens’ of this Newfoundland would be permitted to hold Gin; in their pockets and at home.
Citizens found that Gin provided some succor from their insecurities. The Gin owner could rest in peace, secure in the knowledge that helpings of this intoxicant was within reach, should trouble brew. They also found, with time, that what they had in their possession could prove to be quite deadly, when used indiscriminately and aimlessly. Most seemed to exercise self-restraint; but unruly elements sporadically demonstrated the ill-effects of dormant insecurity going berserk.
Uncontrolled usage soon began causing events of tragic proportions. Innocents began paying the price for unbridled soiree gone amiss. Events seemed to be set in a pattern. A tragedy would occur, leading to an explosion in outpouring, followed by fervent calls to revisit the Law, followed by nothingness. This pattern seemed to be set on repeat.
Most discussions were centred around revisiting the Law. Gin opponents felt the Law was outdated, a relic from history that had to be remodelled to reflect present reality. The status quo proponents – the Gin lovers – reminded all of their bloodied history, which wasn’t unique; of the possible irreverence to their founding fathers, how Gin possession was an axiom not open to question.
The civilisation was consumed by Gin intoxication.
Soon, a time came to pass, when daily transactions were carried out using Gin as medium of exchange. Gins became so commonplace that even those averse to Gin consumption were left with little choice but to adopt Gin themselves. The act of pilfering took an unusual turn. Earlier, knifes and other objects of terror were used to extract money. Now, Gins were brandished as weapons, in order to extract more Gins from a horrified populace.
Fear ran high.
More Gins seemed the only solution to this menace, as many believed it provided them with a sense of security from heightened insecurity. Soon, there were more Gins than human beings on their land. This was expected to lead to collective security.
Incredulously, the opposite came to be.
A few paused to ponder about the extent of insecurity, the culture of fear that seemed to have become institutionalised in collective psyche. They pondered about the true meaning of civilisation, when man feared man, often for no reason.
Preemptive projection of Gin on opponents then became the norm. Uncontrolled intoxication soon led to exponentially rising tragedies. Yet, few contemplated getting rid of the habit. Old habits die hard.
This one didn’t.
The civilisation had discovered, belatedly, the need for Gin control.
Soon, nobody survived.
HaLin’s peace-loving spell-checker replaced Gun with Gin in the above post. The accidental edit was left uncorrected.