In this age of listicles and 300-word briefs, I’m often accused of writing long. Sure; I write as long as I feel the topic demands for my analysis and opinion. But I get it: busy lives, short attention spans. I recently wrote a piece so short that The Cud’s editor emailed to say, “Indy, you only sent me the first third of your piece.”

Not long ago I tried the following “several short essays” format. So here are four brief op-eds in a new (occasional) column. The idiom “shooting the bull” means expressing one’s opinions, whether or not one has any worthwhile knowledge. I am a bullshoot artist.

BULLSHOOT #1:
Filibuster This!

If I hear one more person call the U.S. Senate “the greatest deliberative body in the world,” I might start slapping. Since most who say it are United States Senators or those defending the filibuster, they could use a good slapping.

Legislation can pass the Senate with a better-than-50-percent vote (currently 51), but a filibuster prevents cloture, which is required to end debate and bring a bill to a vote. Cloture requires three-fifths of senators, currently 60. So let’s sum up the filibuster. ONE, it is not encoded in the U.S. Constitution; it’s a Senate-procedure thing. TWO, the minority party uses it to stop legislation it doesn’t like. THREE, it has long been used to stifle legislation that expands equal and civil rights.

The majority party was elected to be the majority. If people don’t like what the majority is legislating, then they can vote the other party into the majority or challenge passed legislation in court. The minority should not wield this kind of control.

Greatest deliberative body in the world? Only to self-aggrandizing, sanctimonious senators. The Senate is a soapbox playground where they get to hear themselves talk. Forget about deliberating; everyone knows the bills, no senator will change another’s mind, and it only wastes time. Just vote. While we’re at it, stop the majority leader from preventing a vote and stop bills from not getting out of committee—two tactics the majority party likes to use. If the majority wants to prevent legislation, those senators should have to vote it down on the record.

The Senate sees itself as some grand body like the ancient Roman Senate. Since that Senate involved such fun things as patriarchy, class privilege, and land-owning, the U.S. Senate does often bear a striking resemblance to that centuries-long atrocity. This Senate must be better by representing everyone, not just rich donors or extreme causes; supporting what their constituents want; and actually accomplishing something.

The Senate cannot pretend to be any kind of great body if they don’t get rid of the filibuster—that  intangible mascot of obstruction, procrastination, theatrics, and embarrassment.

If this brief essay had been a filibuster, I could have written thirty thousand words.

BULLSHOOT #2:
Would I Be Superbastard?

I’ve recently seen two movies that have made me wonder what it would be like to have Superman’s powers.

The first was Brightburn. Imagine the Superman story, but instead of growing up with ideals of truth, justice, and the American way, the alien orphan is an evil bastard who commits super-powered atrocities.

The second was Superman: Red Son, based on the comic of the same name. Kal-El’s spaceship crashed not in Middle America but in the Soviet Union. He was raised to embrace power, Communism, and the Soviet way. In the end, he’s still a good person; his intelligence, ethics, and morals allow him to overcome blind subservience to a political cause.

So if I suddenly gained the powers of flight, heat vision, invulnerability, speed, strength, etc., would I be like Brightburn or Superman—or somewhere in between?

Let’s review who I think I am. I’m a decent guy. I don’t break the law. I don’t steal. I’m not dishonest, save for a few white lies. I support not infringing on others’ rights—civil, equal, human, gay, voting, abortion, etc. I speak out against those who infringe. I don’t molest children, perpetrate cruelty upon animals, beat my wife, cheat on my taxes, assault, rape, murder, and so on. I have a decent moral compass, but nobody could be as squeaky clean as Clark Kent.

I’d do like Superman did in The Quest for Peace: rid the world of nuclear weapons. Then the cruel dictators who rule with fear and violence would get one fair warning before I’d start removing them from the gene pool. Don’t worry—I wouldn’t kill anyone who didn’t sorely deserve it. With the powers and invulnerability of Superman, no one could stop me, and they’d damn well listen to me. And anyone who infringes on the rights of others had better stay out of my way.

Powers corrupts, said Lord Acton, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. But this isn’t about corruption; it’s about using godlike abilities to fix the horrors of the world by removing those who do evil. I could live with killing genocidal maniacs in the name of forcing the world into fairness and peace. I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it.

(Sound cold? Sure, but we’re talking about a hypothetical situation where I can fly and throw buses into orbit, so I can be cold because the whole thing is silly.)

Now imagine if someone truly horrible got those powers. Imagine any extreme-right conservative in the U.S. getting such powers. Demand gun control? Die, Second Amendment denier! Tell the world you’re an atheist? Die, you heathen bastard! Vote for Joe Biden? Die, you liberal fucker! Get an abortion? Die, you murdering bitch! Look at him wrong? Die, you piece of shit!

So just be glad it’s me getting those super powers in this imaginary world instead of any of those crazy assholes.

BULLSHOOT #3:
Sorry, One Isn’t Two

I unequivocally support the right of people to identify as the genders they claim. If someone assigned male at birth wants to be a she, or vice versa, I’m there for his or her preferred pronouns. But I just cannot refer to an individual as a “they.”

This isn’t about non-acceptance. This is about grammar and kindergarten-level math. “They” is plural, not singular. An individual cannot logically be a “they,” no more than that person could insist on being called a “we.”

Arguments for the singular “they” often include “Shakespeare used it!” So? Shakespeare used “ain’t,” but it isn’t acceptable in formal speech or writing. They also argue that “you” can be singular or plural. Yes, but “they” cannot be, because it is ONLY a plural.

Most who demand the singular “they” seem to understand this. Recently I heard someone say, “I really like them. They are a nice person.” If anyone truly believed in the singular “they,” the wording would have been “They is a nice person.” “Are” just further implies more than one.

The English language simply hasn’t caught up with modern needs. A decade ago, I would have argued that using he/him/his as gender neutral was acceptable. Some argued that that historically originated through male dominance. True enough, but I’d counter that it also weakens male pronouns since they now had to stand in for any gender. I’ve changed that stance, mostly because it’s just easier to rewrite a passage. Instead of “An employee could find himself overwhelmed,” it’s easy to say “An employee could feel overwhelmed.”

Preferred pronouns are fine, but preference cannot overcome basic math. One is one. Two or more is two or more. It’s quite simple.

In an episode of Family Guy, someone hollers out, “I identify as a basketball!” Yes, there ARE common-sense limitations to what people can expect us to call them. If you identify as a basketball, you probably need inpatient care, so that’s NOT the same thing as gender identity. But insisting on the singular “they” is like saying, “I identify as two or more people!” I can’t do it. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer; maybe it’s because I can count to two.

There have long been debates about devising a true gender-neutral pronoun, because we can’t call people “it.” That’s what makes sense. In the meantime, if your preferred pronouns are “they/them/theirs,” I respect your desire, but unless you have two heads I just can’t go against the grammatical and mathematical logic. I won’t choose another pronoun against your wishes; I’ll just refer to you by name.

If you identify as a basketball, I’m not sure what pronoun you’d use, but as long it doesn’t refer to two basketballs, I’m sure I can manage.

Cue the angry far-left liberals who missed the grammatical and mathematical point and think I’m tone deaf. THEY are welcome to rant about me now.

BULLSHOOT #4:
Just Shut Up and Suffer!

In 2019, I wrote here about my motorcycle crash. Nineteen months later, I still deal with pain and limited mobility. Here’s the timeline:

1. A careless, inattentive woman who couldn’t be bothered to look to her left stomped on her minivan’s gas pedal and ran me down. She never even got out to see if I was OK as I lay in the street, first unconscious and then screaming in agony.

2. She told the police she looked but didn’t see me. I saw her for four full seconds as I approached and she never turned her head toward me; she was looking the other way. The witness said she hit the gas like she was trying to win a race. I know; I had a front-row seat as she plowed into me.

3. Her insurance company accepted 100% liability. They tried to get me to say anything to shift partial blame onto me, but all I did was ride legally and get run down.

4. My lawyer says we don’t settle until I’m six months past any pain and mobility issues, because you never know what will arise; you don’t want to settle and discover later that there’s something else lurking.

5. I have racked up lots of out-of-pocket expenses, including buying a new bed because the old one (which had been fine) was no longer comfortable for my beat-up body. And I keep paying. No end in sight.

6. I cannot stand, walk, or sit for too long. I always hurt. I used to love woods and mountain hiking, but probably never again. Luckily, getting hit will likely shave years off my lifespan, which will reduce how long I suffer.

7. When we settle, I’ll have to reimburse the medical insurers. She probably has the Maine minimum of $100,000 liability insurance. It cost the insurers $10,000 just for that night at the ER, a lots more since. After medical bills, legal bills, and out-of-pocket expenses, I’ll probably get jack for pain and suffering, but at least I’ll have the pain and mobility issues to remember it all by.

8. Trying to find a new job is tough. Being unable to sit, stand, or walk limits my options; there aren’t many lying-down jobs available. I won’t retire for 16 years, and I’ll probably be at this job, in pain, the whole time.

9. I’ve never heard from the lady who ran me down. Maybe a truly heartfelt apology might make this gigantic shit sundae easier to swallow.

10. My life has irrevocably changed. People keep telling me how lucky I am, but I don’t feel all that lucky.

MORAL: Don’t get into a crash that isn’t at all your fault, because the system will screw you as if it were. Welcome to capitalism.

We give out driver’s licenses too easily. We should pull them more easily. Drunk driving? Gone, and none of this work-license crap. Criminal speeding? Gone, with increasing time for every offense. Running down an innocent guy on a motorcycle because you’re careless and inattentive? Gone for years. In all cases, let’s add mandatory driving courses, with written and road tests all over again as if you were a teenager.

Maybe I’m biased. Yes, it’s possible that, because a careless, inattentive woman ran me down and changed my life forever, I’m a bit biased. I can live with that.

David M. Fitzpatrick is a fiction writer in Maine, USA. His many short stories have appeared in print magazines and anthologies around the world. He writes for a newspaper, writes fiction, edits anthologies, and teaches creative writing. Visit him at www.fitz42.net/writer to learn more.