[With apologies to Kurt Vonnegut’s “Harrison Bergeron”]

THE YEAR WAS 2024, and everybody was less equal than just a couple years before. Everybody, yes, but mostly women were less equal than before. This was all due to the overturning of Roe v. Wade because of the unceasing vigilance of the Supreme Court.

Some things stayed pretty much the same. Most people woke up each day and went to school or work. And almost everybody complained about the weather or the price of things or the President. And in May and June, students all across the country still graduated from high school and college.

On this day, 11 May 2024, Harrison Butker found himself standing at a podium delivering the commencement address at Benedictine College in Atchison, Kansas. He stood before 485 graduates, the largest class in the history of the Catholic college.

Harrison was 6’4” and 205 lbs. He was a Super Bowl Champion, a Catholic, and a Kicker. And as a white man and millionaire, he was even more equal than almost anyone else.

But he was there to tell these young graduates that people were not yet less equal than they should be. Than God of the Old Testament intended.

“Bad policies and poor leadership have negatively impacted major life issues. Things like abortion, IVF, surrogacy, euthanasia, as well as a growing support for degenerate cultural values in media, all stem from the pervasiveness of disorder,” he told these graduates.

He spoke through very white teeth and appeared to have used a great amount of his multi-million dollar NFL contract to impose order on his hair and beard. He practiced, it seemed, what he preached.

“God has given it to me, so I have no other choice but to embrace it and preach more hard truths about accepting your lane and staying in it,” he explained because “[t]he world around us says that we should keep our beliefs to ourselves whenever they go against the tyranny of diversity, equity, and inclusion.”

Harrison, more equal than almost anyone else, could not sit idly by in a world where people could be less equal still.

Those people, of course, were women:

For the ladies present today, congratulations on an amazing accomplishment. You should be proud of all that you have achieved to this point in your young lives. I want to speak directly to you briefly because I think it is you, the women, who have had the most diabolical lies told to you. How many of you are sitting here now about to cross this stage and are thinking about all the promotions and titles you are going to get in your career? Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world, but I would venture to guess that the majority of you are most excited about your marriage and the children you will bring into this world.

Harrison finished his speech, pausing for applause. No government officials rushed on stage and halted the speech with a shotgun blast. No students walked out in protest.

After “Christ is King. To the Heights,” the ceremony continued, and then everyone assembled dispersed into the world less equal than a couple years ago but not yet less equal than they could be.

One could imagine a husband and wife at home the next day, the husband sitting at the table in front of the dinner the wife prepared for him while he was at work. He would be scrolling through social media, pausing on the flurry of stories on Butker’s commencement speech.

Maybe they are named George and Hazel.

George tells Hazel about the commencement speech as he works his way through the chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans on his plate next to his glass of sweet tea..

“Gee—I could tell that one was a doozy,” says Hazel.

“You can say that again,” says George.

“Gee—” says Hazel, “I could tell that one was a doozy.”