Government by Consent DOA: With a Roar or a Whimper?
Ever and always, electoral decisions in a free society are the answer to the simplest of moral considerations: Who gets to do what to whom and for how long? Who suffers helplessly and who holds sway in the adjudication of raw power in the affairs of men?
Assuming benign intentions in the relatively stable ebb and flow of a previously and presumably healthy American democracy by consent of the governed, answers to that question have ranged from irksome to tiresome with frequent dosings of annoying and a smattering of the ridiculous thrown in to remind us of the inclement policy hilarity that sometimes presents in the habitual course of naturalized self-selecting government.
Fools happen. They are the historical rule of rulers rather than exception.
But while the mostly benign vassals whose follies and foibles are a bane to themselves as much as their constituents, clowns, criminals, psychopaths and court jesters are equally capable of winning free elections. Sometimes, and only until they fully rig the game, criminal psychopaths step aside and let the other guy win. When they finally achieve their ironclad absolution of guaranteed outcome, the government we deserve begets the genocide we failed to foresee.
In the ripening collapse that always precedes totalitarian monstrosity and which we now witness in the desecration of the American experiment, the answer to our thesis question incrementally and then rapidly becomes:
“Anything we want, for as long as we want. To anyone who doesn’t obey. Forever.”
This is now clearly the policy of the illegitimate far left regime at the throat of dying America. At every level and at breakneck speed, our consensual arrangement has been erased and replaced with purebred autocracy.
Whether medical autonomy, or even the most essential of bodily self-determinations, it should be no surprise that when consent to govern is given summary execution that informed consent of every other kind dies in turn. Head-snapping levels of ironic inversion inflicted by a movement so paranoiac and obsessed with lip service to consent in matters of “reproductive rights,” and male-female intercourse.
Whatever happened to “My body, my choice?” “Keep your laws off of my body.”
The question of our destiny, if it has not already been answered, resides firmly in our resolve to notice and put on notice the aspiring captors who hold our syringes, our chains and even our cellular mitochondrial integrity in their fetid claws.
If allowed the traditional response reserved for the long procession of clowns, fools and jesters to grace and disgrace the world stage, our fait accompli is sealed. Laughter and ridicule at their expense are zero recompense for a multidimensional crime against the human world in their will to power.
They mean to take everything and even our very lives. Some would tell you, they already have.
Whether shed, swallowed, ingested or injected, enjoy your spike proteins. And hold tighter still, your family, your faith and your gilded memories of the blessed age of humanity, hurtling as one into the memory hole of God’s stolen creation.