tuckova

"But I had to do it. It's my nature," replied the scorpion.

Let's
talk about the frog in the story, who represents everybody who has
been gullible, who has trusted their heart in the face of facts to the
contrary, who has agreed to do something in the hopes it would turn out
well with the full knowledge it wouldn't; who represents, in short,
you. You gullible trusting agreeable idiot. That is what the story
tells us, that the frog kind of had it coming. So you kind of had it
coming, is what I want to say. This is not strictly speaking the same
as you asked for it but it has the same wah-wah-wah
condescension. And it is as unfair as I told you so always
is. The only person who takes pleasure in saying "I told you so" is an
asshole. And the thing about the frog is that whether or not it was
told is not important: The frog knew. You knew. You knew how it would
end. Pushing off the shore with your strong legs, balancing danger on
your back, you wanted to get to the other shore because it was asked of
you and you always want to try, but you knew you wouldn't succeed.

So
why did you do it? I
think this part gets lost. We think about the scorpion all slithery and
persuasive, but I don't think the frog fell for that. I think the
frog knew it could be an awfully big adventure. I think you said:
"Look, I will not make it to the other side with the scorpion on my
back. I may not make it to the other side all alone, either. If I have
the scorpion, at least the conversation will be stimulating. At least
we will have some fun. And there are rocks and scary bits, and I will
do better with a navigator. The scorpion will help keep me pointed in
the right direction; I mean that stinger has to be good for more than
just the one thing, right?" That's what you told yourself, isn't it.
You got all caught up in making the journey interesting and succeeded
in distracting yourself from the destination.

All I'm asking
from you is that when it happens, when the sting of it hurts more than
you can bear, that you not be crying as you resign yourself under the
water. That you not say, "How can this be? How did this happen?"
Because you did know. You knew full well. Keep the story your story;
it's the only way to get out of this with some froggish dignity. Admit
that you chose it. Admit that you had a good time. And keep your eyes
on the shore in case there's mugwort there, which they say is an
antidote for scorpion sting. As your precarious passenger slides from your
poisoned back, one more strong kick can get you where you need to go.
Stay calm, to slow your pulse. And remember it's okay to ask for help;
it's just not okay to ask helplessly.