Thursday, October 28, 2021

Cruel Messiahs

 

There have been many pretenders to the throne, but other than the One True Messiah, the Christ, they have all been cruel and debauched, heartless and indifferent, caring not a whit for those who so readily deified them.

You would be surprised at how many fools with a messiah complex have popped up throughout the ages. Though they vary in age, upbringing, nationality, and education, they all ended up leading their followers to the edge of the precipice and beyond.

Whether Jim Jones, David Koresh, or countless others throughout the world, one common trait among them all was this ineffable air of self-importance. These individuals thought so highly of themselves that they believed every word that came out of their mouth was sacrosanct and beyond question by mere mortals.

As of late, the world has gotten into the act of crowning messiahs with the same failure rate as those who came before them. The new messiah, it seems, is a nasally voiced, older gentleman in a lab coat. The new religion is based on virtue-signaling loyalty tests that make no rational sense but are still insisted upon with the utmost pathos.

It took a while for the cruelty of this new messiah to come bubbling to the surface like the gasses being released from a decaying carcass at the bottom of some nameless pond, but here we are, and there’s no putting this nightmare back in the box.

To be clear, I’m not what one might call a pet person. I prefer neither cats nor dogs, and if I had to take on a pet, the only metric I would use would likely be how much meat it would provide in the event I’d have to eat it. I’m practical that way. Some of you think you could never bring yourself to eat a pet, but you’ve never starved before, so don’t judge.

What am I babbling on about? Well, the latest revelation of what constitutes an experiment by the department this newly minted messiah oversees, that’s what. As I said, I’m not a pet person, but subjectively speaking, beagles are cute. Even I could be coerced into petting a beagle puppy given the right circumstances. That said, if you haven’t heard, the same nerds in lab coats with a god complex that brought you the pandemic via their gain of function research have also been letting beagle puppies get eaten alive by sand flies. Because puppies tend to bark while being eaten alive, they all had their vocal cords surgically removed before the experiment commenced. I’m sure you can find the story on your own, no need to bore you with the details.

There is a basic point I want to make this morning, one that no one has made as far as I know: I know I’m not as cute as a beagle puppy! If they’re willing to let beagle puppies get eaten alive just to see how long it takes, what do you think they’d be willing to do to someone they outright detest?

When you give people with no soul absolute power and treat them as though they could do no wrong and are above the law, you beget monsters whose sense of humanity has long since rotted to nothingness.

Until next time, contemplate this nugget: If they’re willing to watch beagle puppies get eaten alive in the name of science, what are they willing to do to you in its name?

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

One Hill Too Many

 

It is a painful thing to look in the mirror and acknowledge that a coward is staring back at you. There’s no way around the gut punch. There’s no deflecting it. You are staring into the face of something you swore you’d never become each time you told yourself that this was not a hill worth dying on. Another hill was on the horizon, and one day, oh, one day, there would be that one where you would grow a spine and take your stand come hell or high water.

After all, you were just being pragmatic, practical even. What good would it serve if you stuck your neck out and took incoming from all sides? It is better to let someone with no responsibilities bear the brunt of it, and when the battle is sure to go their way, join in on the celebration. Just this once, though; you promised yourself. You’d work up the courage to make a stand at some point; you’d know when your hill came along. Let others lead the way for a while, and when they grew tired, you’d be there to take up the reigns.

The only problem is that day never came, and we’re running out of hills. At some point, the enemy will have everything it wants, and some Christians will still be sitting on the sidelines, waiting for their opportunity to be brave, and talking themselves into believing that they haven’t done anything simply because the timing wasn’t right. The words ring hollow even to those who repeat them like a mantra, but by now, they have no choice. If they ever believed that they would one day be brave, they haven’t believed it for long and long.

As has been the case for long and long, my issue is not with the world but rather with the church. Seeing that those of the world are more willing to take a stand against tyranny than the church is, is the epitome of irony, but it also stirs up great sadness.

Because I’d rather tell you what’s around the corner than what’s in front of your eyes, you must prepare your heart for the eventuality that those who have been too cowardly to act, to speak, to stand will grow increasingly bitter toward those who did those things. There’s nothing more unsettling to the coward’s psyche than the constant, physical reminder of their cowardice. The only way to get around that is to demonize the brave and make them into the villain. It’s coming; just be ready for it.

I’m guessing by this point you’re kicking yourself for talking me into coming back and halfway regretting I didn’t stay gone. As the adage goes, be careful what you ask for; you just might get it. More could be said, but the kiddies are stirring, and daddy promised French toast.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea Jr. 

Wednesday, October 13, 2021

Canceled!

 

What’s so attractive about cancel culture? This is the question I was asked by a friend recently, and as I am wont of doing, I began to ponder the question with requisite seriousness. After some thought, the best answer I could come up with is that it gives weak, spineless, unremarkable, unaccomplished, limp wristed, mediocre, inconsequential, irrelevant individuals a shred of power they otherwise would never have been able to acquire of their own volition or merit.

It’s not fairness driving the cancel train, nor is it equity. It’s envy, jealousy, and the blinding need to cut everyone down because you don’t have the wherewithal to build yourself up. These are not the new heroes of civilization blazing a trail of equitability; they are sniveling trolls on the periphery of society who see their one chance at casting a pall over the success of everyone else just because they are mired in failure.

Now I’m sure at this point, there will be a handful of pearl clutchers who will insist that we show these festering boils on the backside of civilization grace and empathy. Still, just as you don’t bring a viper close to your bosom, you don’t embrace individuals who so flippantly attempt to ensure that a mom or a dad can no longer feed their family because they found something they said mildly offensive.

My empathy is near to empty already, and I will not waste it on mean-spirited, evil gremlins who see someone’s inability to earn a living as a win. This sort of mindset, these sort of movements must be put down in utero before they can grow and mature and become something uncontrollable.

It won’t get better. It will only get worse, and even if you keep your head down and shuffle along with the rest of the sheep, at some point in the near future, you will do something to offend the hobgoblins, and they will come for your head as well. It won’t even have to be some great offense like telling the dude with the beard that he isn’t really a woman. It could be something minor and seemingly insignificant, like a perceived microaggression.

Some of you may think I’m kidding, but these sorts of things tend to get out of hand quickly. The worse it gets, the more violent the redress will have to be to get back to some semblance of normalcy wherein just because you like beef and I like pork, it doesn’t mean I should go on permanent jihad until your life is ruined.

How long before the dredges set their sights on the church? How long before what you believe, what you stand for, what you practice in your day-to-day becomes intolerably offensive to them? How long before a pack of unwashed, screechy, crazy-eyed feminist activists pitches tents in front of your church with signs reading Hate Lives Here?

Before you start thinking that this could never happen, check yourself and realize how many things you never thought you’d live to see you are witnessing on the daily.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Monday, October 11, 2021

The Undoing

 

Some time ago, I made the mistake of getting my kids the game Jenga. Granted, they were younger, unable to grasp the game’s intricacies at the time, but I hoped that if I showed them how to take one piece from the bottom and put it on the top, they would understand it and do likewise.

Unsurprisingly, they just liked the sound of all the woodblocks crashing to the floor, and each time I stacked them up, one of them would slap it down to the great delight of the other.

Everywhere you turn, it seems as though petulant children just want to make everything come crashing down, and they are too impatient to do it one block at a time anymore. Yes, we are already teetering on many fronts, but now it seems as though a great number of people with power and influence are deadest on kicking the whole thing over immediately, come what may.

Many things have brought us to this place, our hubris, arrogance, and yes, rebellion against the precepts and principles of God being chief among them. As John Adams so poignantly stated, “our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”

As the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place, one thing that’s surprising to some is the length of time it took for the enemy to implement its plans. We’re not talking five-year plans here; this was generational. Before you could make a nation despise its existence and denounce its genesis, before you could brainwash the masses to the point of hating themselves and the skin they’re in, you first needed to remove the notion of God from the public square.

Before you could convince millions of women that killing their unborn babies was akin to a spa day, you had to undermine the collective morality of the entire nation to the point that sanctity of life became a subjective issue rather than an absolute one.

The devil meticulously took his time, and because the church was either distracted by baubles or too busy building fiefdoms to notice what was going on, they allowed it to happen unobstructed and unhindered.

For the past two decades, we’ve been talking about getting back to God, to morality, to decency, yet with all the talking, we just keep getting further away. The why is simple. We’ve become addicted to instant gratification, and most folks are unwilling to put in the time it would take to get this nation back on the right footing.

The devil was more patient than the church will ever be, and it’s largely the reason he now has the upper hand.

Yes, we can take some comfort in knowing how it all ends, but we still have to get from here to there, and I can’t help but wonder how many have the spiritual and mental fortitude to weather the journey.

Let’s face it; Facebook was down for a few hours last week, and people were ready to throw their firstborns into volcanoes to make it work again. Imagine that the problems they were facing became existential. What would they do then?

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

To Fascist or Not To Fascist

 

For a solid month after the latest presidential elections, no matter what topic I was covering on my radio program or what rabbit trail we were hopscotching down, I’d always circle back to one idea. It was like a gong going off in my head. More often than not, I felt like a broken record repeating it, but since what I do nowadays as far as these musings and the radio show are concerned have more to do with posterity than anything else, the words needed to be said if for no other reason than to document that someone did say them.

You have no idea what you people have done! This was the sentence I repeated over and over again, and each time, a special kind of sadness washed over me.

If people had no idea what they’d done six months ago, they’re getting a pretty good idea now. We’re nowhere close to reaching the end of the ride on this crazy train, but we’re far enough along wherein people are beginning to wake up to the reality of where we’re headed.

Why do you think the most vocal and outspoken individuals before the elections were those who escaped from communist countries, whether the eastern block of Europe, Cuba, North Korea, or China? Why do you think it was people who lived the dystopia of Socialism, Communism, and fascism that warned most fervently and passionately?

It wasn’t because they had nothing better to do or just got bored all of a sudden. It wasn’t because they decided to throw a wrench in the works of idealistic socialists who just wanted equality. It was because they lived the inevitable end of every fascistic experiment and felt compelled to speak out, not that anyone bothered to listen.

For those still wearing the red, white and blue glasses and chanting that could never happen here, this week, we got one step closer, and most people didn’t even bat an eye. As per the dictates of the new director of the Department of Justice, parents opposed to their children being indoctrinated into Marxism or CRT in school should now be treated as domestic terrorists and investigated by the FBI.

When dissent is forbidden, when parents no longer have a say as to what their children are being taught, when actual crime is soaring throughout the country by every metric, yet you’re focusing on parents who object to the state’s propaganda, fascism is no longer a possibility, it is a present reality.

Land of the free and home of the brave are hollow words indeed when one is faced with the prospect of being arrested and having their life turned upside down for the high crime of having a dissenting opinion. This is how lesser men retain power once they gain it: they weaponized every government agency against those who would object to their tyranny. In every nation and every generation, there have been those who would enforce their dictates.

These last couple of years have dispelled many myths, one of them being that law enforcement and the military are far too noble to obey unconstitutional dictates. Sorry kids, you’re on your own, and no one’s coming to save you. When speaking your mind becomes a crime, sooner or later, there will be a knock on your door even if you bite your tongue because at some point, they’ll just accuse you of thinking about saying something, and that will be enough.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Friday, October 1, 2021

Fickle Beasts

 

I’m stingy with compliments. It’s not anything new or something that came on with age. I’ve always been this way because I respect the integrity of words and that they mean things. Modern culture tends to water down and dilute everything, including the meaning of words, wherein an over the hill has been bag of wrinkles is called a heroine for shouting her abortion, or as modern parlance would phrase it, murdering her unborn child, or committing infanticide.

That said, any nurse, doctor, candy striper, or other medical staff who continued to go to work day in and day out as the pandemic broke out is a bonafide hero in my book. Why? Because when this all started last year, nobody knew anything about this virus, whether mortality rate, transmission rate, or what it could do to the average human.

Countless unknown factors served to make people trepidatious. Yet, medical professionals still clocked in every day did their jobs, and came home, all the while uncertain as to what they may have contracted when the toothless homeless fellow hocked a loogie in their eye.

As Americans are fond of doing, at a certain point, we jumped the shark. As a society, we went overboard with giant banners waving in front of hospitals declaring that heroes worked there, kids wearing my mom’s a hero shirts, husbands wearing my wife’s a hero hats, but it’s the American way. We are a bombastic people, and we like signage. That’s why Marshall’s Home Goods is still in business. Take a dollar’s worth of wood and paint, scribble Bless This Home calligraphically, and you’ve got yourself a $40 piece of art that some cat mom somewhere will be proud to own.

A year and change have passed, we know more about this malady, and chances are most nurses and doctors have had it and recovered from it. Still, because they refuse to fall in line and obey for whatever reason, they are now pariahs, worthy of being left destitute and homeless.

It just goes to show how fickle a beast the human being is because I would wager that some of those calling for the termination of these people were likely cared for by them over the past couple of years.

Although grotesque on its face, there are deeper truths we must uncover as this saga plays out. First is the speed at which society can make a heel turn as far as its heroes are concerned. An entire sector went from hero to zero in no time flat, even though the reasoning is shaky at best.

The second thing we must be aware of is that this is the perfect vehicle by which the non-compliant, the stiff-necked, and the independent-minded are weeded out of positions of power, authority, or import. The new order is looking for team players, not lone rangers, so shut up, do as you’re told, toe the line, and be quick about it, or you will be next.

It’s sad how quickly we can vilify our fellow man and how readily we can be manipulated to be at each other’s throats for something that makes absolutely no sense at all. If you got jabbed and it works, then it makes no never mind what I do. If you got jabbed and it doesn’t work, it makes no never mind what I do. It’s like rolling down your window and yelling at the driver in the next car over to put on his seatbelt because he’s going to kill you. It makes no sense, yet here we are.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea Jr.