say that one day, you're walking down a busy street. you're hungry, but you don't have time for much more than a quick snack. and so, you're munching on an apple, thinking about the medications you still have to pick up and the clothes you have to exchange for another size. all of a sudden, you hear a voice, loud and booming, above the din of the crowd:"all apple lovers are slovenly degenerates!"instinctively, you stop in your tracks and turn toward the sound of the voice. there, offset from the sidewalk, you see a man projecting his voice through a megaphone. at first, you're convinced that you've misheard - but as you listen further, you realize that the man before you is, in fact, engaged in a rant about "apple-lovers.""apple-eaters deserve every bit of violence, that comes to them!" he bellows, seemingly oblivious to the piercing whine of feedback that he receives in return. "apple-eaters are lazy, disgusting, lower than filth! they should eat real food or die!"in spite of yourself, you can't help but feel offended. apples are one of your favorite foods, after all, so you find a pause in his torrent of foul language and odd accusations to speak up. "excuse me," you say, "but I really like apples and I'm not sure why I should die for eating them."the man lowers his megaphone and regards you with a scowl. "you should know, you piece of shit," he practically spits at you through gritted teeth. "you know exactly what you're doing.""yeah, I'm um. eating an apple?" you respond incredulously.at that, the man's hand shoots forth. before you can react, he knocks your apple out of your hand. the half-eaten fruit bounces once on the grass, then comes to rest in a bare patch of damp earth. "don't you dare address me with that in your hands," he growls at you. "if none of these people were around, I'd grab you by the collar and-""hey, what's going on here?" another voice - higher pitched than the man's and unmistakably feminine - pierces through the milleu. you turn to see a woman who's stepped forward from the bustling sidewalk to address you both.upon seeing this newcomer, the man's posture suddenly changes from threatening to welcoming. "oh, hi, Miss!" he says, his voice taking on a congenial tone that you wouldn't have previously guessed he was capable of affecting. "I was just talking about how I don't like apples.""well," you interject, "he was doing a lot more than that actually. he was threatening violence on people he called 'apple-eaters,' calling us degenerates and filth and a bunch of other things.""so he was just calling you names?" the woman says, wisps of skepticism billowing through her voice like cigarette smoke. "I mean, it was more than that," you respond. "I think he was about to threaten violence on me, too.""oh, no!" the man interjects. "I was just talking about how I don't like apples. they're too acidic for me, and I don't like the taste besides, and the skin tends to get stuck in my teeth."you attempt to interrupt, but the man continues. "and then this person, who I don't even know, stopped me and accused me of being violent! just, unprovoked! I was just expressing my opinion - a simple opinion about what I don't like - and then they start yelling at me. and they even threw their apple at me!" - he gestures to your sad, half-eaten, mud-covered Honeycrisp - "just, apropos of nothing, you know?""but he implied that I deserved violence and death for my choice in fruit!" you're finally able to spurt out. "that's so fucked up! and I definitely didn't throw my apple, he-""okay," the woman says, "let's settle this. you, sir" - she addresses the man with the megaphone - "do you believe that apple eaters should be murdered?"the man puts his hands in front of him, palms outward - a prone, defensive gesture. "who, me? oh, no, no! I was just stating my preference in fruit. that's a thing that we all deserve to do, right?"the woman smiles at the man, as if to say 'I believe you,' then turns to you, her gaze sharpening into daggers. "how dare you accost this man for voicing his opinion! what the hell is wrong with you? you should be ashamed of yourself! now, get the hell away!"the man, a slight smile inching his lips upward, joins his defender: "yeah, get away from me, you shit-stirrer! and never come back!"and so, you heave a great sigh and silently continue on your way, stomach rumbling for lack of food, as you try to push away the feeling that you've been kicked while you were down so that you can focus on the tasks at hand. a few days later, you're watching the news, and you see that there's been a shooting at a nearby apple orchard. the report describes the shooter's manifesto as a screed against 'apple-eaters,' casting them as 'degenerates' deserving of death. you pick out another Honeycrisp from your fruit drawer and bite into it to sate your hunger.but, to your chagrin, it no longer tastes as sweet as it once did.
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