Those who are familiar with James Thurber's writing and cartoons will recall his Giant Rabbit.
(That's not him above. You'll have to make do with a cute Thurber dog until I can find his book again.)
Thurber's rabbit is as big as a bus and quite scary, and sits right in the middle of your path onward. It's eyes follow you as you try to sneak past, and most of the time nothing happens (which is quite a good metaphor for the things we spend our lives worrying about).
Then one time.......
Thurber's rabbit has nothing against you. You will have been robbed of one of your dimensions and turned into a cartoon-ish imprint in the dirt for no reason other than the boredom-induced impulse of a fucking rabbit.
What could be more natural or unjust than that?
*****
What has happened to the your correspondent is that the faceless bureaucrats of the Natural Justice Department have returned to work and, after several long meetings, have decided that he has been getting it too good for too long, and have voted, unanimously to rectify this egregious oversight by giving it to him, vigorously, up the arse.
It gives me no comfort to have shared an experience with the Virgin Mary - we have both been fucked by God.
You, dear reader, might find some sense of natural justice in this development, particularly since you don't know me from Adam and couldn't give a fat rat's even if you did, especially if you have been harbouring vindictive thoughts about me ever since you read my vainglorious braggadocio essay "Charmed Life".
In the end, it comes to this:
Natural Justice is applied randomly, and if the sample number is high enough, is statistically relevant.
Fair enough.
But in the name of all that is fair and decent, how can that be so if it is not applied to the perpetrator of the transgression, but to the ones he loves?
So fuck you, Natural Justice, and fuck all your fucking friends.