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 My Pickup Truck by Fogaban This is an analogy I have used to describe my feelings toward slaves. I had, for several years, a very nice four-wheel drive pickup truck. While that truck could do a lot, it had limits to its capabilities. For instance, it had a load rating of about 1,750 pounds. Suppose though that I needed it to carry 2,000 pounds. It would say "Master, I cannot carry that much." But I know it can. And so I load it up anyway and drive off. After I unload it, it says "My Master! I really was able to carry that much!" And I might say, "Yes, girl, I knew you could". It replies, "You had that much faith in me? I have learned something new about myself." Suppose now instead, I load 5,000 pounds in my pickup. I would quite likely break something. I would quite likely ruin my truck. And how would I be better off for that? I wouldn't. And it would be my fault, not my truck's fault. So I would never do that. My truck required a regular maintenance routine. For instance, I needed to change the oil at certain times. If I neglected this schedule, and even though I had ever right to do so, my truck would have suffered. If I continued to neglect it, sooner or later, it would have simply stopped being what I needed it to be. And again, this would have been my fault, not the fault of the truck. So that never happened. Had I neglected my truck over time, or even failed in the short term to fill the gas tank, and my truck ceased to live up to my assumed expectations, and it stopped alongside the road, would it make any sense to then get out and beat it with a baseball bat? No, obviously not. So I didn't do that. Even if it had failed me due to a defect of its own, would it do me any good to have beat it? If I had dented the hood, broke the windshield or cut the seats, would that severe abuse have trained my truck to be better? Of course not. What would I have had after my fit of rage? I would have a truck which would be of no use to me or one which I might have even gotten into trouble with the law for continuing to use. In fact, I could have been in trouble for the severe beating in and of itself. So I didn't do that. Instead, I cared for my truck. I took care of it. I maintained it. And I was proud of it. It served a purpose. I knew what it could do, perhaps even if it didn't. I never forced it to exceed what I knew were its limits. And it served me well for years. Now, let's take this analogy one step further. Suppose someone I didn't know that well came to my house and said "Damn fine truck you have! Can I drive it? I want to use it for a time." Would I have let him? Absolutely not! I would have had no idea if this guy would return it to me in the same condition I left it. Since it is my property, my responsibility, I will protect its welfare. Next, a good friend comes over and sees my truck. He says, "Very nice truck. Can I look it over?" I would say, "Sure, go kick the tires, look under the hood, feel the upholstery, check it out . . . but you can't drive it." And finally in this analogy, a trusted blood brother stops by. He asks, "Brother, I need to borrow your truck tonight." I would have done nothing more than toss him the keys, knowing full well it would come back to me, clean, polished and perhaps in better shape than it left. Property . . . pickup truck, lawnmower, slave girl, there is no difference. All are essential for what I need and expect them to do. But, for this to happen, all require care. And this responsibility is not only for what I own personally, but carries over to anything I might borrow. I, as a Gorean man, as a Gorean Master and as a Gorean Brother, have a responsibility to myself and others that few can comprehend. And I would have it no other way. |
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