The Rabbit and the Cicadas

Once, there was a young Rabbit who was just fine. She did a nice job in about everything she tried and was relatively peaceful and happy with her life. Of course, she had some nagging doubts just forming in the back of her head, even as a young Rabbit, but nothing that stopped her from learning and playing with friends and eating right. The Rabbit looked to be growing up healthy and happy. However, she had some disposable income (an annuity left to her by her grandfather before he was run over by a lawnmower).

This disposable income attracted some Cicadas who worked in advertising, and they began to buzz around her all the time. "Pssst, hey, Rabbit..." said the Cicadas, "Don't you realize that the toys you play with aren't as good as the toys the Rabbits over in the meadow play with? You have some, that's right, but they have the latest and greatest, the state-of-the-art, the "eliminate those nagging doubts about yourself that are already forming in the back of your head" kinda toys..."

"Really," said the Rabbit, who, because the Cicadas' buzzing was so constant, didn't even question it. The Rabbit looked around at her toys, then looked at the toys of the Rabbits in the meadow, and nodded her head (which was filling with even more doubts now). "You know, Cicadas, I think you are right. Those Rabbits in the meadow that you are showing me do have better toys and they sure do seem happier. What can I do about that?"

"Well, you see," said the Cicadas, "We're glad you asked that, because, over here, we can show you a store where you can BUY the toys that will make you feel better..."

So the just-fine Rabbit bought the toys that the Cicadas suggested and, for a few minutes, she really did feel better about herself. But, after a few of the toys broke, and a few more got lost, and the few that were left began to get boring (because, you see, the Rabbits in the meadows were playing with even newer toys that were even better at this point), the Rabbit suddenly didn't feel so good anymore. In fact, looking at her pile of accumulated, discarded, broken stuff, she actually felt worse.

"Ooooooh," the Cicadas sympathized, "Oooooooh, poor thing, poor thing. It is good that we know exactly what you need. You see, you are too old for toys now. That's why you're not happy. You really need a boyfriend, that's what you need. But, looking at your appearance, well...we don't want to say you are plain, but let's just say that you aren't going to attract the happiness-inducing boyfriend that you want looking like that."

The Rabbit furrowed her brow. "But I thought I always looked okay?"

The Cicadas shook their wings and buzzed and buzzed and buzzed. "Oh, yes, yes, yes. You do look okay. But okay isn't the way to attract that top-notch boyfriend who will really make you happy. No way, no way. You need to look STUNNING. Look at those Rabbits in the meadow. Look how thin they are, and how pretty...how perfect their make-up is and how well-groomed their ears are and how fluffy their tails are. You see, that is the way to attract a boyfriend."

The Rabbit still wasn't sure, but, looking at the Rabbits in the meadow, and seeing how happy they looked, she said, "Alright, how do I end up looking like those Rabbits in the meadow?"

"Funny you should ask us," said the Cicadas, "Because we know a store right over here that you can buy all the stuff you need to look beautiful and attract a top-shelf, front-of-the-line boyfriend..."

So the Rabbit bought all the stuff the Cicadas said and slopped it on her face and combed it into her ears and rubbed it all around her fur and even under her tail (because the famous Rabbit on the interview show, who was actually employed by the Cicadas, said that 'smelly under-tail' was the Number 1 turn-off for Rabbit boyfriends) and, when she was done, she felt kind of foolish and uncomfortable, but she then went out to the edges of the meadow to try and attract a boyfriend. And, night after night after night, which she used to spend reading and writing letters and enjoying the dusk, she now spent with other female Rabbits, lurking around at the edge of the meadow, waiting for that perfect boyfriend that the Cicadas had promised. And, ultimately, after a few false starts, she found a boyfriend, only he wasn't as perfect as the Cicadas had promised. He was lazy and he ate too many greens and didn't seem to have the social skills exhibited by the boyfriends of the meadow Rabbits. Ultimately, though, he was a boyfriend, so the Rabbit accepted him, even though he didn't really make her feel as good as the Cicadas had promised, especially compared to reading and writing letters and enjoying the dusk. But the meadow Rabbits did none of these things and they were truly happy, so neither did the just-fine Rabbit, anymore.

As time passed with the just-passable boyfriend, the Rabbit, now feeling pretty low, found herself expecting a litter and, under pressure from her Rabbit parents (who, like most Rabbits, were timid and conservative, always sniffing their noses in the air and preparing to run away from strange things while passing judgement on all those around them), the Rabbit married her boyfriend. And, after a long 31 days of feeling fat and being nauseated and not being able to find a comfortable place to lie, the Rabbit had her own bouncing baby 14 rabbits. Of course, between 14 babies, some postpartum depression, and a few dollars left in her grandfather's annuity, it was the perfect combination to attract the Cicadas.

"Hello, Friend Rabbit!" chirped the Cicadas. "You are looking...well."

The Rabbit, who was now filled with self-doubt and overwhelmed by the crying of 14 babies, especially since she only had 6 nipples, snapped at the Cicadas, "What does THAT mean?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said the Cicadas, who were smooth talkers if nothing else. "Nothing at all. We were just admiring how nice you look with all the beauty products that have attracted that top-shelf husband of yours."

"Well, he said the other day I was fat," said the Rabbit, "And I don't feel too beautiful. And now I have all these babies and I don't know what to do with them." She lifted her hopeful Rabbit eyes up to the Cicadas, "What would those beautiful Rabbits in the meadow do about all this?"

The Cicadas nodded their heads and buzzed and buzzed and buzzed (and the junior partner in the back shed his skin). "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes," answered the Rabbit.

"Sure?"

"Yes, yes!" pleaded the Rabbit.

"Well, in that case..." and the Cicadas got out their big guns, a laser-focused targeted marketing multi-media totally immersive sensory assault. They told the Rabbit about the perfect food for her babies ("Much better than that old fashioned breast milk YOU'RE using!"), about the perfect learning toys and books for her babies, about the cutest clothes that would make her babies the most attractive and get them into the best lepus colleges, if not get them modeling careers outright and make them rich without even raising a finger. They told her about various investment plans and insurance schemes and other places where she could hand over her money in order to ensure her babies the best life in perpetuity ("Didn't your own grandfather do that for YOU? Didn't he care enough to do that for YOU?"). But wait, said the Cicadas, don't forget yourself! Pamper yourself with this shampoo and that bubble bath and this facial mask and that whitening toothpaste. And make sure you are dressed in the latest Rabbit fashions ("You know, just because you are older and have 14 little ones, it doesn't mean you can't look your best") ("Or even hire one of our insured and certified professional Fox babysitters to watch your precious cargo while you make a trip to the edge of the meadow, for Girl's Night Out or for Old Time's Sake or for Just No Reason At All Other Than You Deserve It!"). And, of course, she would want her home to look the best it can, with all the best furniture, which happened to be on sale, and all the best appliances, which also happened to be on sale, and, when she was sick of the way her home looked, why, paint and rugs and wall treatments and lamps were also all on sale! In fact, maybe she should just ditch that stupid starter hole she was living in and live nearer the meadow in a brand-new, newly-dug hole, complete with 15 different bedrooms and carrots growing RIGHT THROUGH THE CEILING! And the Cicadas hadn't even begun to talk about vehicles, since the Rabbit needed something roomy enough for her brood yet stylish enough to show who she REALLY was ("In fact, maybe you should consider TWO vehicles--one for those soccer games and one for those visits to the edge of the meadow. Just because you're a mom now doesn't mean you have to sacrifice anything or give anything up for your kids! You DESERVE to be the beautiful Rabbit you really are. Plus, and we really didn't want to say anything, but do you think those glamorous Rabbits in the meadow really drive a minivan?...")

And, when all was said and done, Rabbit bought everything the Cicadas showed her, one thing after another, each one making her feel good for a second, but, then, after it wore off, leaving her with a still-empty feeling, which the Cicadas were more than happy to address by showing her yet-again something newer and more improved. And the Rabbit just continued to buy and buy and buy, because the Cicadas, in their buzzing, promised that this one would make her happier and that one would make her even happier and this one would make her so gosh-durn happy that her face would crack. And, meanwhile, her husband took up with one of the loose hares from the forest who would flash her tail to every Jack she saw, and the bank foreclosed on their edge-of-the-meadow, "Everyday Easter" model new-build hole, leaving the Rabbit family living under a log, which allowed hawks and badgers to pick off the babies one by one. Finally, in a desperate attempt to bring some kind of meaning to her life, the Rabbit followed the Cicadas' advice and hired the Fox Babysitting Service (motto: "We Make Sure Your Little Ones Are Warm and Well-Fed") to watch the remaining babies while she went to the edge of the meadow. Of course, no one paid attention to her at all, despite the new dress and the plastered on make-up, until the closing of the bars, when a particularly greasy weasel slid up to her side and offered to show her his weasel etchings. Because this is a family fable, we will not describe the degradation and humiliation that took place back at the weasel's lair, but, when the Rabbit, ashamed and miserable, returned to her under-log, she realized that all of her remaining babies, as well as the Fox Babysitting Service, were mysteriously gone. She couldn't call and report this to the authorities, because her phone had been disconnected weeks before, and, when she asked a government official for help, they said it would be at least 6 to 8 months before they could respond, since there were so many complaints against this particular Fox Babysitting Service involving missing Rabbit babies (and a few missing Chicken eggs, to boot).

As she lied under the log, crying, the Cicadas began to buzz again.

"Help me, Cicadas," said the Rabbit, who didn't even realize that, because of their previous help, she was now a long way from fine. All she heard was their constant buzzing and the pounding in her head. "Please help me to feel better, like I did back in the day before I met you."

"Oh, okay, we have just the thing," said the Cicadas. "It sure sounds like you need to ask your doctor about clinical depression, because that's what all the happy Rabbits in the meadow did and, now, look at them. Look at how happy they are and how often they go kayaking and eat cotton candy at the county fair and take walks on hillsides in the autumn. And, when you let your doctor know that we diagnosed you as clinically depressed, ask him about Carrotrol, a Shedding-Plow Laboratory product, the little orange pill that will make you happy with one swallow. Happiness is just a gulp away! Of course, let your doctor know if you experience any of these rare, oh so rare, rare, rare, rare side effects along with your unbridled joy, including incontinence, water retention, fur loss, ear droop, heart flutter, uncontrollable sobbing, thoughts of wolves, inability to lick paws, unexplained tastes of elderberries, increase in number of feces pellets, brain damage, growth of a penis followed by an erection that lasts long than three years, blood coming from the eyes, blood coming from the pores, blood coming from any other orifices not named, liver failure, kidney failure, fallen arches, neck pain, spinal column explosion, thoughts of owls, obsessive-compulsive disorder, compulsive-obsessive disorder, unexplained tooth growth, hyperactivity, lethargy, hyperactive-lethargy, chicken vocalization, leg cramps-"

"Fine, fine," said the Rabbit who used to be fine, "I'll take it. But I don't have any money left. The annuity is gone. Now that my kids have disappeared, my ex- doesn't pay child support. I felt too bad to fill out the paperwork for continued disability, and I never went to school and have no job-related skills. The money is completely gone."

The Cicadas all suddenly quit buzzing in unison. "What?"

"The money is all gone."

"But you have insurance, right?"

"No," answered the Rabbit. "But I really need that Carrotrol, a Shedding-Plow Laboratory Product, because, after all of this,  I really need to be happy again."

"Mmmmm," said the Cicadas, "It looks like you may no longer be within our target demographic."

And, with that, the Cicadas flew away, leaving the Rabbit alone, under her shabby log.

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