No Fault State

Which means equal fault; my bad, yours too,everyone’s bad. Everyone’s bad. Everyone.Here in the Great State of No Fault we runan equal opportunity racket. You

own your stuff. I own mine. And what this meansis that it doesn’t matter that we’re knockedoff balance by larger forces, get our clockscleaned when some orogenous zone caves in. Your dreams

are no one else’s problem, that’s a coldfact. Get used to it. You mightbe holding hands in a meadow—whatever—and rightthen something cracks between you. We are told

an open field’s the safest place to be,but all the same, you’re on opposing sidesof a rift too wide to jump. The planet bidesits time; there’s no predicting it. But, see,

the fault’s torn seam is not your fault. And platessmashing against each other—hey, we knowsubduction happens. Not your issue, though.Upheaval likewise: nature really hates

accrued stress. The thing is, seismologyis, let’s say, inexact. Crude. In the stateof being faultless, we adjudicatethat matter doesn’t matter, we decree

that the past be made irrelevant becauseit cannot be undone. We say mistakeswere made. Not my fault or I’m sorry. Lawsare written in these stones, and when one breaks

and falls on you, well, that’s just tough.We cannot underline that part enough.