The setting is a bustling town– not quite a city, but endowed with the pleasures that one could usually find in a metropolis. It has its ups, its downs, but overall, everyone seems to be at least just a bit content with the general atmosphere.
Enter the bandits– violent and vicious sonsabitches, who have at their disposal a corrupt and conniving government pocketed, whether it be by a cut of the profits they get in their vile activities or simply out of fear for them. They roam about, wrecking homesteads, threatening violence, destroying property, getting their rocks off by toying with people who are otherwise incapable of defending themselves for fear of even harsher retribution. The townspeople are entirely capable of ridding themselves of this scourge, yet they still fear what may happen should they voice their sentiments, or -heaven forbid- act upon them.
Cue our hero, a regular kinda gentleman rancher who in standing up for himself and his homestead, is instead driven to the brink and cornered by these bandits. The corrupt and crony lawmen and magistrate back them all the way, or at least don’t do anything to help. Knowing full well the deck is stacked against him, he still makes his stand, because by golly and god as his witness, these men are in the wrong.
What seems to be the setting of a typical Western likely starring John Wayne is in fact the reality of Ian Freeman, and the only exception to this comparison is that the bandits don’t have lawmen pocketed– they are the lawmen. The very same men who are supposedly our defense against the miscreants are the very same miscreants we all find universally repulsive. Indeed, who wishes to abide thieves, murderers, and extortionists? Certainly not any decent man or woman who thinks of themselves to have an upstanding moral character. Certainly not Ian Freeman, and certainly not John Wayne.
The wild card here, like in the films, is the townspeople. The townspeople need to make a stand as well, whether it be for their own moral integrity, for the sake of their own prosperity, or at the very least to get that nut who bitches about them damn bandits to shut the hell up and not end up as a martyr which serves as a catalyst for more of his type to begin popping up.
The fact of the matter is, it is the townspeople that are the lawmen and magistrates in our real world. It is the regular guy, the guy who would rather spend a night at home pounding his wife (or husband, as the case may be) like a chicken cutlet who is the real sherriff, and the faux lawmen know it. It is the regular gal, who would rather spend a night getting wasted with her girlfriends while shamelessly fooling around with a male stripper when her husband thinks she is on a retreat for her yoga class in the Adirondacks who is the real magistrate, and the bearded doppleganger magistrates know it. And you can bet your bottom dollar, they fear the day the real lawmen and magistrates realize who is really in charge and what justice really is. It should be noted that the real lawmen and magistrates are not necessary to validate the justice that ought to be served, but it would go a long way to achieving a more just society if they would fill the role they were meant for– magistrates of conscience and reason, lawmen of peace and justice.
The only real unresolved aspect of this modern Western is how it will end– will the townspeople shed the chains of their fears and revolt openly against this tyranny, bringing about an end once and for all to all the injustices that would be done at the hands of these men? Or will they still cower in fear, leaving our lone homesteader to go out in a final act of glory, guns a-blazin’?
The revolt may not be violent, and the bullets may only be words and writing, but either way, we’re left with a hell of a cliffhanger.
