Drama Queens

 Either we’re all going to die again, or we’re going to get a runny nose. Not everyone though, most people will never know they had the thing we’re all supposed to be afraid of. However, to be fair, not having symptoms is a symptom, and you might as well get your affairs in order because if you’re feeling good, you know it’s just a matter of time.

It used to be that when you got a runny nose, you’d stock up on Kleenex and chicken soup. People were practical, reasonable, and reacted to certain situations appropriately. If you got a hangnail, you didn’t bum rush the emergency room yelling for a medic asap. If you had a tickle in the back of your throat, you didn’t play sad orchestra music and went shopping for a coffin. All that changed when certain individuals realized that you could monetize fear and, as a bonus, control the masses with fear.

Do what I tell you, or you’re going to die! That’s the message coming out of the white house of late, the one place where the individual at the helm is expected to be calm, cool, and collected. Never you mind the fact that with every incarnation, the ‘deadliest virus known to man’ grows weaker. Your level of fear is supposed to increase to the point that you shun family and friends, have your pets put down, and live as a recluse collecting your fingernail clippings and wiping down your delivered groceries with Clorox, to the point that everything you eat tastes like a urinal cake. At least, I’m assuming that’s what it tastes like; I’ve never actually eaten a urinal cake.

If you believe the reason for the fearmongering is your safety, then there isn’t much I can do for you at this juncture. If you think that the control they are attempting to assert over you is for your own good, then you deserve everything that’s coming, including forcibly jabbing your newborn as they crown. Big pharma needs to get paid, and long-term studies are too time-consuming for them to be concerned with. Whether or not what they’re jabbing into you will have unintended consequences somewhere down the road is irrelevant to them as long as the check clears.

“Oh, my, that’s a cynical way of looking at our pharmaceutical system.”

Perhaps, but it doesn’t make it any less accurate. The history of big pharma and what they were willing to do in order to make money is there for everyone to see. They are literally willing to kill people for the bottom line without remorse or compunction.

But now I’m supposed to trust the same people that got an entire generation hooked on pain meds with whatever they want to inject into my child while not being held liable for any adverse effects? Remember Vioxx, Paxil, Wellbutrin, Zyprexa, Risperdal, Lyrica, Avandia, OxyContin, Essure, even talcum powder? Are you smoking crack? Maybe crack’s cheaper than most prescription meds, but that’s beside the point.

Whenever you try to have a conversation about adverse reactions or side effects, you’re labeled a fringe conspiracy theorist, even though the evidence is piling up that you’re less likely to have severe complications from the sickness than from the jab that’s supposed to protect you from it.

It doesn’t even do that effectively enough to make the risk of blood clots, Bell’s Palsy, and cardiomyopathy worth it. But hey; you do you. For now, we still live in a free country where people can choose what they do with their own bodies.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea Jr.  

Rumblings

 

There isn’t much you can do once you start hearing the rumblings of a storm. Up until that point, you may have been able to pretend as though the storm wasn’t coming; you may have been able to hope that it would go around you. You may have even been able to hope that you would be caught up before the first thunderclap. At a certain point, however, reality starts to set in.

Even then, some people still choose to cling to fables, pacify themselves with mantras, or alleviate their concerns with things they read in fiction books. Justifying inaction is a full-time job for some, and the longer they embrace something, the more they tend to double down. Talking oneself into believing that everything will be okay is very seductive, and many people cling to that hope to the point of delusion.

If your house is on fire, you have no fire extinguisher, and your points of egress are blocked, sitting at your kitchen table telling yourself it’s going to be okay and doing nothing to try and escape the flames is delusional.

If you are at all aware of your surroundings, weaknesses, strengths, and blind spots, you will have already done everything you need to do to mitigate the effects of the storm that is upon us. If a sea fearer sees the storm clouds approaching, even though he is unaware of how severe the storm will be, he goes about battening down the hatches and ensuring that he has done his best to weather the oncoming onslaught.

As believers, we have been warned repeatedly throughout the Word as to what the last days would look like. For those continuing to insist that we won’t be here for any of those days, my math on the subject is simple: Either God wasted his breath in warning of the last days seeing how we wouldn’t be here, or, in love, warned His children as to what they could expect during these last days. Whichever thesis is correct, we will know soon enough.

The worst thing we can do as believers is to become impulsively reactionary to things around us. It’s the difference between one individual driving down the road knowing there’s a sharp curve ahead and being ready for it and another unaware of the curve and not paying that much attention to the road.

If all the warnings in the Bible were put there to meet word quota, then no harm, no foul. In the blink of an eye, we will nevermore be burdened with global machinations, wars, rumors of wars, famines, pestilences, and all the other things that can put a crimp in one’s day.

If, however, they weren’t put there just to take up space, but as viable warnings regarding the landscape of the last days and how we should be positioning ourselves, then we ignore the words of the Book at our peril.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Bondage

 

It is because they’ve never been deprived of it that some people don’t value their freedom. They’ve always had it. It’s been a constant. They didn’t have to fight for it, sacrifice for it, or defend it. They were born free in the land of the free. Rather than possess the awareness to understand just how much of a blessing that is, they long for the bondage others risked their lives to escape.

It doesn’t compute. It’s like trying to tell someone who’s never missed a meal how horrible a thing starving to death is. Sure, they’ve had the tummy rumbles once or twice, but there was always a Taco Bell nearby to scratch that itch. Nothing beats a quick meal that doubles as the world’s most potent laxative. If the name in-n-out wouldn’t have already been taken, perhaps it would have been an excellent rebranding idea.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, freedom. The problem with those telling you that your freedom isn’t that important, or that you won’t really miss it once it’s gone, is that they have no plans to live without theirs. Whether it’s because they suffer from a terminal case of self-importance, or they’re just that insulated, and well off, the people insisting you ought to diminish the importance of freedom are not including themselves in the conversation.

As has been the case since a smelly, lazy German bum came up with the blueprint for Marxism, their machinations, plans, and desires have everything to do with subjugating you and elevating themselves. These people already know how incompetent they are; you don’t have to tell them. Because they know that if all things were equal, they would fail and you would succeed at life time and again that they are attempting to hobble the driven, motivated, intelligent, and innovative.

Because someone like Bernie Sanders would seem like an escaped mental patient ranting about taxing the rich if he were standing on a street corner by himself, they had to become a magnet for the disenfranchised and the lazy. They had to appeal to those who take away from rather than contribute to society. Get those people on your side, and punish those who wake up every morning to go to work, and pretty soon, you’ll have a majority.

Even then, you can’t just come out and tell people you want to enslave them, make them wards of the state, and have some bureaucrat decide everything from where they live, to what they eat, to where they work. It would make too many people question whether they wanted to go down that dark road after all. And so, you camouflage your intent. You tell people it’s about equity and fairness, about inclusion and diversity, because these things sound good on the surface.

You embrace the dumbing down of society; you encourage apathy; you reward the unproductive until you have absolute power. Then, and only then do you show your hand, and the mouth breathers who followed you realize that not only have they been robbed of their freedom, but the utopia they were promised is anything but.

The ice upon which we are tap dancing is thin, and deep dark waters lie below.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Momma Bears

 

The backlash was inevitable. In fact, it was a certainty. The only mystery that remained was how big it was going to be, and if, when the dust settled and the numbers were tallied, it would make a difference one way or the other. It has often been said that the most dangerous animal you can come across is a momma bear protecting her cubs. Even if you don’t pose a threat or mean to harm her babies, your very presence is often enough to make a momma bear irate to the point of attack.

What has been happening throughout this nation, and more poignantly in Virginia of late, is anything but harmless or unintentional. I’ve been watching with a keen eye because we were at a crossroads of sorts. Either all sense of morality and decency were dead and buried, and the majority had become like Lot in Sodom offering up their children just to spare themselves, or a silent majority would send a message that was undeniable in its intent.

For those unaware, Virginia elected its latest Governor yesterday, and the outcome was as much of a shock to some as the 2016 presidential elections. Although I’ve not as yet seen video of advisors and henchmen mumbling to themselves in a daze, I assure you they exist.

This election was supposed to be a walk. Show up to a few venues, shake a few hands, reassure people that we’re on the right track, and that would be that. Everything was going according to plan until two things happened almost simultaneously. First, a boy in a skirt sodomized a girl in a High School bathroom, and the school board tried to cover it up. Second, one of the candidates insisted that parents had no business deciding what their children were being taught.

If you read into the messaging, hardworking, tax-paying parents were basically told to shut up and take it. Pay your taxes, let us indoctrinate your children, and thank us for doing it. So what if your daughter is just as likely to be raped as she is to learn algebra on any given day? The way of progress is never a straight line, and if we can shove an agenda down the throat of an entire generation, what’s a rape here and there?

Evidently, the momma bears of Virginia didn’t take too kindly to being told that their children were going to be sodomized, indoctrinated, and abused and that they had no say so in the matter. They came out in droves and made their voices heard not with violence or supergluing themselves to the sidewalk but by exercising their constitutional right of voting.

No, this isn’t a turning of the tide. We’ve not restored America. I am, however, guardedly optimistic that there are more and more people waking up to the plans and machinations of arrogant elitists who see most folks in this country as cows to be milked or sheep to be fleeced.

As I said to a friend in conversation the other day, this was never about reversing judgment; it’s always been about putting it off for as long as possible. Yes, I know, that doesn’t sit well with some who just want to watch the world burn, and they’re anxious because they just made a fresh batch of popcorn, but I’m not one of those individuals.

If judgment is delayed, it is a good thing. If the church gets its act together and uses the time wisely, calling men to repentance, it’s even better.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

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. 

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. 

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.