Remembering Professor Higgins

We raised eyebrows when Higgins asked

“why can’t a woman be more like a man?”

Look how whole nations now build upon

That thought in the Professor’s brain.


In the land of the free and home of the brave—

The “oldest democracy” we are told—

Why can’t the black be more like the white

Is the lament of the beautiful and the bold.


And in the “largest democracy”

A parallel ask is rampant now;

Why can’t a Muslim be more like a Hindu,

And propitiate his gods and the holy cow?


In the monarchies of the Middle East

We hear the insistent call

That it is not enough that we Muslims be

But that we better be Wahabi Sunnis all.


Men in charge of governments

Desire, in the interests of unity,

That citizens be of one single mind,

And repudiate “God’s own variety.”


Yet the Good Book says with clarity

That those that have shall get;

And all other Good Books say the same

In sacred alphabet.


So now that God made us all unlike,

He must have meant some to make the rules,

And ordained the White, the Brahmin,

And the Wahabi to whiplash the lowly fools


Whom God in his wisdom chose not to make

White, Brahmin, Wahabi, or  rich,

But, like women of any clime,

Slaves to the dominant itch.


It is the task of the bramble and thorn

To set off and serve the regal rose;

The feet may well be necessary,

But a foot cannot be a nose.


Let diversity then not be made

An argument for democracy;

No democracy may equalize

The Elect and the Hoi Polloi.


The Equality idea anyway

Died with Robespierre;

It is now only a politic brand

That “successful” democracies cannily wear.

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