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.