Stealing the Identity of Justice

I have had this thought before and wish to tell a story. The words below are written either as a description or a warning to society and both need consideration. It’s a lengthy read but, I believe it is worth the five to ten minutes. Please read and consider.

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The mobs left her desecrated in the streets. Her robes: dingy and marred. Her blindfold: ripped. Her mouth gagged. Her hands: broken and no longer able to hold the scales of the law and mercy, nor the sword of judgement . Her name is Justice— or rather, it was. But that identity has been stripped and stolen, and given to another woman: the Imposter

 This is the story of how a woman who was once loved and held in a place of dignity was turned into a mere pariah, and replaced with a “‘lady’ of the night,” the Imposter.

The Imposter was always jealous of Justice. Justice was beautiful. And Justice always allowed herself to stand with poise and dignity. She never walked. She stood resolutely, with a blindfold, only feeling the weight of the law and mercy, carefully interpreting its balance, and with swift accuracy she would swing the sword of judgement, 

This infuriated the imposter. There was no gain to be had for Justice, and yet, the eyes of society continued to follow her actions. The ears of society continued to hear her words. The hearts of society always considered her judgement. By this, the Imposter always felt scorned.

The Imposter’s nature was quite opposite of this. Lust, greed, and rage drove her ambitions. Her belly was never full. Her heart was always empty. Her soul was always corrupt.  And she always found “friends.” 

The friends to the Imposter had similar ambitions with same desires: lust, greed, and rage. They were just as determined. So they conspired to overthrow Justice. “Look at how she carries herself,” one would say in disgust. “It’s impossible to laude this attention, and ask for nothing.”

Greed within the Imposter kept with glee. The Imposter spoke: “You need to steal her identity and leave her broken.” The friends nodded in agreement.

“But how?” said another. The Imposter leaned back and contemplated this a moment.

“That scale she carries— what is it?”

“Mercy and the Law. It’s a balance of rules of society and consideration of the human condition. And the sword she carries is judgement.”

Hmm, thought the Imposter. The human condition is prone to the ego. How do we corrupt humanity and change the balance of the scale? “Humans rely on morality and God as a force of securing their wellbeing. We must first discredit this and teach them to rely on instinct. Then, their more basic animal nature will take over. And they will seek their own desires, giving power to those who ‘secure’ their welfare.

“From there,” the Imposter continued, “human desire will vastly outweigh the law, and the law must become stronger to maintain balance.”

“But won’t that cause extra weight on the fulcrum of the scale?” asked a friend.

“Yes. And both of her hands will become busy, struggling to maintain the scales. Her arms will become weak and tired.  She will no longer be able to hold the sword. And, eventually, she will collapse.

The first friend considered this. “But then society devolves into anarchy.”

“Or turns to a new form of justice,” replied the Imposter. “And that’s where I come into play. You will need to replace her with one who can fulfill your ambitions and create a new order. Society is once again secured and becomes your slave, however you see fit. You are no longer held as equals status in society. Instead you become gods.”

The triumph of greed could almost be heard as the gluttonous hearts of the friends roared with hunger. “Where do we begin?!” a friend cried out to the Imposter. The Imposter smiled. By making them think like gods, they became the Imposter’s servants.

Almost dramatically, the Imposter replied, “Pay careful attention. We begin at the side of the scale called the ‘law’. You must first remove the law from its contexts and shake the scale of justice. Then provide appeasing interpretation to ease the fears and misunderstandings of humanity. They will then call for a new law to be written, causing the weight of the scale to become heavier. Make careers of it. There will be those who sympathize with Justice, and will likewise make careers to ensure the safety of Justice. But, enough fear, and they will lose credibility as well.”

“Eventually Justice will collapse. What, then?” asked one of the friends.

The rage of the imposter became hot and furious. “You must ensure justice never recovers. Cast her into the street, as a mob. Jeer her. Rip her robes to shreds and trample them. Break her wrists, so she cannot ever weigh society again. Take her sword, so she can no longer judge. Destroy her blindfold, and let her always be haunted by your sight. Then, tie her feet, so she cannot stand, and gag her tightly, so she cannot speak. Then grind that dreadful scale to powder, so it can no longer be used.

“Then dress me as Justice, and I will become your judge. Make a new scale. Hold humanity hostage in fear. Let them remain broken. They will always revere you. When demanded, they will always applaud me. And those who would dare think of the old ways will become subject to punishment, and become an example of those who do not obey.”

The mob of friends cheered at the words of the Imposter. Emboldened, they leapt from their chairs and moved to action. With the instruction of the Imposter, Justice became weak and her health failed rapidly. The friends of the Imposter dragged her into the streets. Some of society watched in horror. Some joined the mob. They believed the words of the Imposter spoken by her friends and were likewise hasty to overthrow Justice, because the did not understand her.

And eventually, they sat back in fear and anticipation. They had no guide. The friends of the Imposter gathered together again. “What, now?” they asked.

She replied, “you know I am a lady of the night. You know the business I do. You must make me beautiful, so they do not recoil at the sight of me. Bring me makeup and a dress. Give me eyeshadow. I have no need of a blindfold. The scale can even be crudely fashioned, because we are now the gods of society. The sword must be crudely fashioned, to inflict much pain.” A few of the friends felt unease, as if they were just another client trapped in the enamor of this Imposter, awed at her “beauty”; fearful at her “strength.” Had they been duped? But they were now gods. They lacked guidance and morality. They were devoid of truth and mercy. They lacked understanding. 

So, instead, they crudely made a scale and merely called it Regulation.They forged a new sword, whose name was tyranny. They handed both to the Imposter, and asked her, “How shall we introduce you?”

She looked into the street, and the trembling, destroyed body they had cast aside. Then she looked at the scale and sword in her hand, and her eyes lit with a smile. “You may call me Justice. Because what once was is no longer, and society no longer can tell the difference.”