Sea of Intolerance
Exile on the Moon, Freedom on Earth
This piece exposes the paradox of tolerance, a challenging notion. How do you rationalize the seeming contradiction?
Share your insights and let’s explore the layers together!
“The man in the moon is a felon - he’s naught but a felon in chains,” my aunt’s reedy voice carried across the kitchen. Aunt Linda was clearly in one of her silly moods.
“Have you taken your pills today?”
“Be careful Derrick, you keep talking that way and they’ll send you to the moon!”
This wasn’t out of the ordinary for her. When I was bored, she would suggest things like going outside to bark at rabbits. If I were hungry, she’d offer a me glass of water and a toothpick, occasionally with a slice of lemon.
“No one lives on the moon, Aunt Lin.”
“Of course they do! Thousands of them. What do they teach you in those schools?”
“Science and mathematics. What are you talking about?”
“History. Long before the science and math you’re taught, our people faced a crisis of conscience. Rich lorded over the poor, diseases and scarcity ran rampant. Most wanted nothing more than to solve the problems before them; however, there was another faction who seemed to desire nothing but chaos and division. They saw the problems as an opportunity to put themselves ahead of everyone else. Anywhere you tried to build a bridge, they decried the instability of the land and the need for keeping everyone separated.”
“So, they sent them all to the moon?” I laughed at the very idea.
“I agree, the solution to the problem wasn’t particularly palatable. But it was effective at fixing the problems caused by those who would rather poison the well than share the water. You see, the only way to build a society of tolerance and mutual respect is to root out intolerance. You must arrest its momentum entirely. It’s a weed, it spreads rapidly, especially when given quarter to thrive.”
“So, tolerance is, by nature, intolerant?”
“You’re a clever boy, Derrick. As hard as it is to comprehend, yes. Tolerance suggests that everyone sees their fellows as equals, seeing past the differences to their common humanity underneath. That way of life cannot abide those who would use those same unique qualities as dividing lines.”
I eyed her suspiciously. I was used to having my legs pulled – Aunt Linda joked that’s the only reason I’ve grown this tall. Still, she didn’t have the usual twinkle in her eye that gave the away the trick.
“To put an end to the decades of culture wars, the leaders of this world put together a plan to unite the intolerant, to catch them all out and wrestle free any minds that weren’t completely closed to a better future. It was mayhem, allowing all of the worst thoughts and slurs to rise to the surface and be shared in the public sphere so brazenly. It seemed to those who believed in a new tomorrow that society was all but lost, that the bigots and militant were sure to triumph.”
“The second dark age.”
“You can deprive a fire of oxygen and it will cease to burn, but another can start just as easily as long as the air is dry and there’s a charge of electricity. Instead of trying to smother the raging intolerances, they allowed the fire to swell, hoping to liberate any who would run for safety rather than step closer to pour fuel upon the flames. As the intolerant put forward more and more wild assertions that seemed to unpick the very fabric of the natural order, masses fled their camp for the safety of reason.”
“They couldn’t tolerate intolerance anymore?”
“Exactly. Those who had the ability to tolerate were able to see the broken connections that are meant to bind us. In the abstract, it is easy to hate what you do not understand, but when face-to-face with someone in need, all of that disappears. Your hearts see through to one another and the imaginary lines fade away.”
“When I was younger, I was scared of dogs because one bit me. I thought all dogs would bite, but then our neighbor got one. It was a puppy, it was small and it didn’t snarl or growl. It licked and snuggled.”
“Not all dogs act the same way. If you corner them, abuse them, or try to hurt them, they might attack. Just like aunts,” she growled. “When scared, every creature tries to defend itself.”
“But what is so scary about people being tolerant of others?”
“The problem has nothing to do with anyone else, it’s about them just as they would seek to make it. They see their pain as the fault of others, never understanding that they keep propagating it through their actions. Underneath it all, they can’t tolerate themselves. They can’t abide to see others flourishing when they themselves remain miserable.”
“And they would rather tear everything else down than change themselves?”
“Admitting that they’re the problem is the hardest part. It’s much easier to blame a faceless group or a common ancestry than it is to examine why you yourself are unhappy.”
“Then they just, what? Shipped them all to the moon?”
“Not all of them, no. A great many woke from their stupor and saw that creating chaos and fear was a choice they could stop making. Those who returned to their communities were given a chance to think differently, but any who refused were slowly driven towards their punishment.”
“Wouldn’t they have resisted? Why would they let themselves be captured?”
“They weren’t captured at all. They went freely. They built the lunar colonies in what was once known as the Sea of Tranquility; they created a path for the intolerant to escape all the problems they decried. If they didn’t want to stay and help fix them, they could leave for the palatial residences with breathtaking views of our planet that were offered with the sole condition that they never return. A great many gleefully ran for the ships and were on their way.”
“But they arrived and were placed into prison? That’s terrible.”
“They’re not imprisoned, they have their own society up there and there is no contact between here and the moon. Given who went up there, I can’t imagine it’s a nice place to live though. Hopefully a few of them come to realize that. Banished from a world they sought to ruin, they spend their days looking down on everything they ever knew as a reminder of why they were sent away. The houses on the moon are nothing but windows, so there’s no escaping the view of the planet and the people they thought were worth sacrificing for their own selfishness.”
“And everyone born since then has just magically been tolerant?”
“No, no, of course not. Those who would seek to sing the same songs of disharmony are quietly counseled and offered the chance to join the lunar community, but to the best of my knowledge, no one has been sent in more than one hundred years.”
“So, then how do you know all of this?”
“Because of my mother and hers before that. Every night, we see the moon in the sky and we reaffirm our commitment to our brothers and sisters here on earth. Hatred and intolerance propagate when we don't talk about the pain they cause or the fallacies upon which they rest. When we fail to assert ourselves against the irrational minds that seek to divide and control, we create a space for those desires to thrive. The unfortunate cost of gaining the wisdom that comes with age is a duty to share it forward by teaching our children to love, honor, respect, and be partners to their fellows.”
“And if I were one who didn’t understand?”
“As long as you tried to think better of others and yourself, you’d be welcome to stay. I might even use a crowbar if I thought your mind could still be opened,” she smiled. “But if not, to the moon with you!”
Thank you for reading! Wanderlust & Wordplay offers a blend of humorous expat memoir 🌍, serialized mystery fiction ✍️, and dystopian sci-fi 🧬
Bernie was wise, wasn’t he?
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