Bill of Rights
Anyone’s glasses are alright if they can see with them; anyone’s pleasures, problems, perfections, or perversities are also O. K. as long as they don’t bother me with them.
Kay Sage
SourceLicence:Public domain (US, unrenewed)
Anyone’s glasses are alright if they can see with them; anyone’s pleasures, problems, perfections, or perversities are also O. K. as long as they don’t bother me with them.
Kay Sage's "Bill of Rights" sounds at first like a generous declaration of tolerance. The speaker says that anyone's glasses are fine, as long as they can see through them, and then widens the list to include anyone's pleasures, problems, perfections, and even perversities. All of it is "O. K." Nothing seems off limits.
The last line changes everything. The tolerance comes with a catch: other people can be whatever they like, provided they don't "bother me with them." What looked like open-mindedness turns out to be closer to indifference, even a wish to be left alone. The speaker doesn't welcome other people's lives, only their silence about them.
The tone is dry and slyly humorous, with a deadpan, almost legalistic voice that makes the title ironic. A "bill of rights" usually protects people from the powerful, but this one protects the speaker's peace and quiet. The mood is wry, a little cold, and quietly funny.