[My apology to Stephen King, though he reimagined a jump-rope jingle based on miners folklore.]

The classic horror movie trailer to the following story goes like this:

COMING TO A THEATER NEAR YOU

Little girls skipping rope, chanting:

“Late last year & the year before

Shadowpuppets Shadowpuppets tapping on my door

Want to stay home, don’t know if I can

Cuz I’ve been called by the Shadowpuppet man”

Voice-over in a deep, bass male register says:

“In a world of illusion” 

(Shot of bright white light with shadows of alien beings backlit)

“In a land where facts are relative” 

(Shot of a newspaper headline: 2 + 2 = 5)

“A horrifically pointless circus comes to town” 

(Shot of dark, decrepit fairgrounds, accompanied by creepy tuneless calliope music)

“An invitation appears” 

(Shot of the interior of a door with a mail slot. An envelope is pushed through, falls to the floor. Camera zooms in on the words:) 

JURY SUMMONS (to the screeching violins of the Psycho shower scene, or similar)

Welcome to my 4th rodeo. This time my response is going to be different. Like many assignments I failed to take seriously, mostly because I was dismayed by the educational fare I was being fed, I’ll take a page from my distant past.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I received high marks. Possibly because my teachers were high themselves. Or they were just as bored by their teaching material as I was. Whatever the reason, I was not discouraged to turn in work that exceeded/ignored the parameters of the assignment.

For Mr. Fagnon, my Greek mythology teacher, I aced the class though I wished it were some other mythology. The final was a series of essay questions, only some of which I recall. My  answers were tweaked to include an entirely made-up pantheon of alternate gods & goddesses. A question such as ‘Who is Demeter’ got:

Zeus’ regurgitated sister (papa Kronos got hungry), whose favorite daughter, Persephone, was abducted by Hades to be Queen of the Underworld/Lady of the Dead. Demeter, Goddess of the Grain Harvest & cultivating crops, was so aggrieved at the loss of Persephone that she made the land desolate & barren (scorched earth policy?). Persephone, who represents reincarnation & controls ghosts, ate some (magic?) pomegranate seeds that won her a reprieve to go up top part of the year. While being Demeter’s ignored daughter, Anastasia, Goddess of Weeds & wild, choking vines (like strangler figs & kudzu), went on to remind humanity that Nature cannot truly be tamed. She represents resurrection (because weeds always come back), & her sacred animal is the echidna.

A question about Zeus elicited this side-stepped reply:

Kronos, Zeus’ father, was somewhat filicidal. He ate 5 of his 6 children, so Zeus’ mom Rhea replaced Zeus with a stone. This proves that Kronos was also simple-minded, or didn’t watch what he ate. Secretly, Rhea was in love with Zeus’ uncle/Kronos’ brother Egan, The God of Mistaken Identity & Spies. Egan possibly fathered some of Kronos’ supposed children, but we will never know for sure. He is associated with small fires that won’t stay lit, & his sacred animal is the opossum. Zeus is credited with rescuing his siblings by spiking Kronos’ elixir with an emetic.

The query regarding Aphrodite got this:

When Aphrodite, who rose from sea foam after the severed genitals of the sky (Ouranos) fell into the sea (Ew!), her twin sister Thalassa sprung from the sandy sea floor. While all attention was on Aphrodite, Thalassa made a pact with Poseidon, who gave her dominion over the coral reefs. She is Goddess of the Unknown & the depths of the sea. Her sacred animal is the octopus, & she represents hidden truth & being of many minds.

Mr. Fagnon marked my final with “I never laughed so hard.” I feel he was rather easy to please, this bald, bespectacled, goateed man who always wore vests. I guess I was kinda charmed by him as well. Perhaps my school work was a test for my teachers I didn’t know I was conducting. I assumed I was just having fun. 

I didn’t always goof around with the work, but my days of making light came to an abrupt end with English Composition teacher Mrs. MacMahon. There came an awkward exchange after I turned in some written piece I satirized Mary Shelleyesque. It’s only due to the times that I wasn’t put on suicide watch or flagged for possible antisocial, violent outburst. Instead, Mrs. MacMahon gave me a book: The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, about a young woman’s mental breakdown. I learned not to turn in anything even remotely that dark ever again.

I thought of the term shadow puppets, or shadow play, when imagining serving on a jury. I scoffed the first time I was sent a summons & never even filled out/sent back the form. The 2nd time I was granted an exemption by honestly claiming an anxiety disorder. The 3rd time the judge wouldn’t grant my exemption. I was on tenterhooks the entire 3 weeks, calling in every evening to hear if my group number was expected to report the following day. This 4th time though, I was determined to nip this thing in the butt [sic].

Though this image technically isn’t a shadow puppet, it’s a scary leaf-face I saw out my window while writing this:

To address the matter at hand, however, I have to candidly declare why I’m not fit for a juror. This isn’t the anxiety/agoraphobia talking. It’s my total aversion to anything government-related during this era. I fill out the form thus:

While the DOJ is weaponized as a cudgel for a sociopath’s foes, by all means waste everybody’s time requiring my attendance in the local justice system’s circus, a system where Lady Justice’s scales are already tipped to protect the wealthy white class from poorer minorities. Should I be called for selection, I cannot in good conscience pretend impartiality. Being human & compassionate & a victim of some crimes myself, it isn’t remotely possible to act as if justice in these times can be had. It would be easier to believe climate change a hoax than that our laws honor the words ‘all men are created equal.’ There are no inalienable rights here, as is self-evident if one opens their eyes. Corporations own these ‘united’ states, & justice is a pipe dream. But hey– I will participate in the farce for no other reason than going through ludicrous motions while the dystopia marches on. All hail absurd theater! P.S. This will make an excellent blog post.

It’s not like there’s a huge empty space on the form to write all this. I wrote it over the blanks I was expected to fill in with address, phone number, citizenship status, whether I’d been convicted of a felony, been a victim of a crime, etc. I wanted to make it abundantly clear: You can require me to show up; you can’t make me compliant otherwise. Include me at the risk of disruption & irreverence for the proceedings.

I signed it & sent it in. Let the games begin!