The Weekly Screed (#685)

My rights are bigger than your rights
by David Benjamin

“In recent decisions, the conservative majority on the Supreme Court has made clear its view that corporations are people, with all the attendant rights. They are entitled to free speech… They are entitled to religious beliefs… Up next, the right to bear arms?”   
                            — Paul Krugman, The New York Times
 
Grosscup answered the doorbell.

When he saw who had rung the bell, he tried to slam the door shut, but was thwarted by a huge foot in a steel-toed jackboot.

“Hey, this is my house!” he said. “Who are you?”

Grosscup found himself gazing fearfully at a half-dozen burly men, armed to the teeth, carrying AK-47 assault rifles, with 9mm Glock handguns in their holsters and hand grenades on their belts. One of them carried a deadly-looking Browning automatic rifle with an ammunition belt slung across his chest. Ironically, they were all wearing bright blue polo shirts adorned with the logo of a well-known automobile brand. They wore matching blue baseball caps.

“Mr. Grosscup?” said the intruder with his foot in the door.

Reluctantly, Grosscup admitted it. “Yeah, I’m Grosscup.”

“Great,” said the leader of the squad. He grinned stiffly and said, “I’m Friendly Dave. We’re from Schumacher Chevrolet. We’re having our big July sale-a-thon and we’re here to help you buy your new Chevy SUV.”

“A Chevy SUV?” said Grosscup. “I don’t want a Chevy SUV!”

Lowering his gun barrel to a point between Grosscup’s eyes, Friendly Dave said, “Oh, sure you do. First, let’s go to your bank and pick up a little ready cash.”

Despite serious misgivings, Grosscup was bundled into a black Suburban with tinted windows, where he sat flanked by two burly car salesmen, their weapons cocked and aimed at his brains.

Within a half hour, dazed and confused, with a cashier’s check for a little under $45,000, Grosscup was on his way to Schumacher Chevy, still sandwiched by two sale-a-thon gunslingers. As they pulled up in the dealer’s lot, right next to Grosscup’s brand-new, candy-apple red Chevrolet Tahoe, he put his foot down.

“Just one darn minute here,” he squeaked, “why are you kidnapping me? Why are you forcing me to buy this clunky Detroit-made pile of nuts and bolts?”

Friendly Dave turned his unfriendly gaze toward Grosscup. “Oh, no, no, no, Mr. G,” he said. “This is not a kidnapping. We are not, any means, coercing you.”

“But you’ve dragged me from my house, made me withdraw forty grand — ”

“All we’re doing,” said Friendly Dave patiently, “is exercising our Second Amendment rights to bear arms, with the blessing of the Supreme Court.”

“Wait! That’s wrong,” cried Grosscup. “The Second Amendment allows you to buy guns and carry them around. But it’s still illegal to point guns at people and take their money.”

“Oh, Mr. Grosscup. We’re not taking your money. We’re just facilitating a very desirable purchase. This 2015 Tahoe? Hey, honest! She’s a creampuff,” said Friendly Dave. “Besides, we’re not bearing arms as individuals. We are, corporately, bearing arms as one big person known popularly as General Motors.”

Grosscup was befuddled. As a conservative, he agreed with the Supreme Court’s Citizens United and Hobby Lobby decisions, defining corporations as people. “But, but, but,” he blurted. “But the right to bear arms doesn’t include the right to intimidate me, and bully me into doing things I don’t want to do.”

All the bullies laughed at this. After the hilarity died down, Friendly Dave said, “Grosscup. Remember the playground in grade school, and how the big kids hogged the ball and pounded the smaller kids, how they used to call you fat-ass and pull down your pants, bloody your nose, rub your face in the dirty snow.”

“I sure do,” said Grosscup forlornly. “I used to hate recess.”

“Well, it’s recess in America, Grosscup. That’s how Constitutional rights work nowadays. Thanks to Justice Roberts and the Shondells, the big guys — the largest persons in the body politic — are us. Multinational corporations.”

“But I’m a person, too. I was a person before you were,” said Grosscup. “I’ve got my rights. If you make me do this, I’ll take you to court!”

“Ah, to court!” said Friendly Dave. “So, Grosscup. You have a lawyer?”

“Er, no. But I’ll hire one, darn it. You’ll see!”

“Mr. Grosscup. We’re General Motors,” said Friendly Dave piteously. “We have two thousand lawyers, each one of them pulling down $500 an hour. We own the playground. You are an ant on the pavement.”

“But, but that’s not fair,” whined Grosscup.

“Sure, it’s fair, Grosscup,” said Friendly Dave. “You have the very same rights that we have at GM. But you’re one ordinary, lonesome shnook. We’re huge. Our rights are bigger than yours. If you say something, which is your right, we can say the opposite, 10,000 times louder — and longer than you can keep on breathing. You can pray, but your God is the size of a flea. Our God, with five rock-solid Supreme Court votes and 4,000 dealerships from coast to coast, can crush your God between two fingernails.”

Grosscup’s head was spinning. He sagged in his seat. “I didn’t realize…”

“That some rights are bigger than other rights, depending on who owns them?” said Friendly Dave. “Well, now you’re wised-up, Grosscup. Now, let’s talk about the undercoating.”

“Undercoating?” said Grosscup. “Oh no. Everybody knows that undercoating is a scam. I won’t pay for — ”

Grosscup felt the cold steel of an AK-47 suddenly pressing against his temple.

“Oh,” he said. “Did you say undercoating? Well, that’s different. How much can I get?”