It’s remarkable to me when I read arguments about my moral position in this country.

What amuses me the most is to look up at the people on the “moral high ground” who talk so much about protecting the sanctity of marriage.

Why do people who attach religious connotations to their arguments automatically put themselves on top, while I’m wandering down here in a cesspool of filth and vermin?

What’s more, how do I make an argument to someone 4,000 feet above me who keeps shouting down for me to come out of my “decadent” lifestyle?

Believe me when I say that the echo of their words is annoying.

I suppose I could climb to the top of an even higher hill and claim my argument about equal rights and not writing gender discrimination into the Constitution is better, but I rather like it down here. The rats are friendly and they tend to stick to their own, not trying to demean me as a way of bringing me to their ratly ways.

Once you find a spot to settle in, you can clean up all the filth, which, mind you, triples the property value instantly.

I do occasionally run into another person down here.

Usually we stop and say hi, and ask each other how life is going.

Sometimes, if I’m lucky, we’ll go back to my sod house and chat over some tea.

In fact, I find more people hanging out down here every day, and it’s easier to ignore the constant echo coming from the hilltop.

The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I’m quite content to live my “morally decadent” lifestyle with the people down here who have a sense of understanding what I’m going through.

Maybe someday, when I find enough people down here, we’ll do something about that echo.

But for now, I’m content to ignore its out-of-touch repetitiveness and make my arguments over some tea.

Matthew Skuya

Senior

Political Science