Years ago, my husband and I were on a family trip in the Bahamas, staying at the Atlantis resort. One afternoon, we wandered through their underground aquarium caves, marveling at the marine life. A little girl stood transfixed by a tank of moray eels, their jagged teeth gleaming ominously. Her mother shuddered, remarking, “Those are …
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Years ago, my husband and I were on a family trip in the Bahamas, staying at the Atlantis resort. One afternoon, we wandered through their underground aquarium caves, marveling at the marine life. A little girl stood transfixed by a tank of moray eels, their jagged teeth gleaming ominously. Her mother shuddered, remarking, “Those are scary, aren’t they?” Undeterred, the girl darted to the next exhibit — a tank of barracudas — and exclaimed, “There’s something more awful than that, Mummy!”
Her innocent quest for the next frightful spectacle stuck with me, and lately, it’s become a metaphor for the conservative movement’s obsession with outrage.
