Depending on how you look at it, at least sheep have the
fortune or misfortune of not knowing that the slaughter awaits them. Reason and
logic escape them; therefore, they do not bleat as they are herded into the
squeeze chute, they do not protest, they do not put up a fight, or try to stop
the inevitable from happening.
The only time panic sets in is when they start to smell
blood, and you can see realization dawning in their terrified eyes that this
will not be a day like any other. By then, they are resigned to their fate, and
though some bleat weakly, there is nothing much they can do to avoid the
butcher’s knife.
Anyone with an ounce of sense and a gram of objectivity can
see what’s coming. It doesn’t take revelation, prophecy, or tea leaves to see
which way the wind is blowing or what will become of us if what has been dubbed
the silent majority continues to cower in its silence.
We sat silent as overreaching tin pot governors stripped us
of our constitutional rights. We shut down our churches, shuddered our
businesses, and closed down the schools, which was only the beginning. We’ve
endured the indecency of limp wristed effeminates with lisps telling us that we
can’t go into an establishment because we’re not wearing a face diaper. We obliged
when they insisted that it has to cover your nose as well as your mouth thoroughly,
or you’ll be killing everyone in the Walmart, believing it was but for a season
that would surely pass. We rationalized our silence; we justified our lack of
opposition, thinking there wasn’t anything more they could take from us.
We were naïve enough to believe that the draconian instincts
of power-mad intellectual inferiors would only go so far. We thought there were
bridges they wouldn’t cross, and not only did they cross them, but they also dynamited
them in their wake. Nuance has long since bled out and expired, and now
everything is a nail in need of a hammer. Shut down everything forever! But
what about businesses and jobs, and school, and children playing with other
children? What about the tsunami of misery and anguish that will surely follow
as a consequence of shuttering ourselves in our basements because of a malady
that has a less than 1% mortality rate?
These are all questions we can no longer ask, even though
they are crucial. Shut up and obey, or else! It doesn’t matter that you’ve run
out of savings or that your kids are getting dangerously close to Lord of the
Flies territory. Nope, all that is irrelevant because the people who have been
getting paid all this time, the people who have waivers for every rule they
foist upon you, said so. What’s more, they’ve been getting paid with your tax
dollars! How do you like them apples?
At the risk of sounding hyperbolic, this coming Tuesday may
be your last chance to speak up for yourself before you are no longer allowed
to have a voice. There is no gentler way I can put it, and if you’ve got half
the sense God gave you, you already know this to be the truth.
You’re a grown adult with a functioning brain, so I won’t
presume to tell you how to think or what to do, but I will leave you with some
food for thought to masticate upon through the weekend. You don’t send
ducklings to fight off wolves, and you don’t hire hyenas to protect you from
them either.
A sheepdog may be loud, unkempt, boisterous, and
unsophisticated, but when it comes to it, he will defend the sheep from the
wolves with his dying breath. The wolf and the hyena will always demonize and vilify
the sheepdog because he stands between them and their prey. The ducklings will
go along with whoever they think will get the upper hand because they just want
to be eaten last.
We have seen the warp speed at which tyranny can be
normalized, dissenting voices silenced, and opposing views suffocated. We have
seen that silence emboldens the self-styled revolutionaries, and lack of
pushback from the other three hundred-odd million is viewed as tacit agreement.
Ask anyone who’s lived under the jackboot of socialism or
communism how it feels, and they’ll tell you. They will tell you the truth, not
some utopian fantasy of what could be, but what it inevitably descends into
every time. And before you break out your ‘that could never happen here’ drum, take
a second to ponder all that has already happened.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.
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