A Plague of Locusts Facebook Post 2020 05 26
The Plague of Locusts comes from the eastern horizon!
FactCheckers and ContactTracers and StatisticsQuoters are swirling about us, preparing to descend!
The Plague of Locusts descends upon us, devouring all truth before it.
Individually, they were only grasshoppers once, content in their fields. But time and chance (actually, fear and executive orders) destroyed their fields. The hungry grasshoppers received the power to delete, the ability to hunt down, the authority to lockdown, and thus they became a plague of locusts.
They cut asunder friendships. They split families. They stack the shreds of relationships and create bonfires!
They produce nothing, but they devour people, businesses, and churches. Their task is to leave a scorched earth, pure and cleansed. With unholy righteousness, they descend from the east.
My relatives remain far away, and my close friends desert me, even those with whom I have broken bread. Strangers avert their eyes above their masks. They will not acknowledge me because I take my own bag to the grocery (even this is prohibited, you know, lest you kill someone!). They stick out their tongue beneath the mask.
The Plague of Locusts infests my phone and my computer.
They dwell in my Nest, turning my automated home against me. The Echo of Alexa’s voice calls the locusts to me.
Once only a black cloud on the distant horizon, a work of fiction in the mind of Bradbury, the locusts now are everywhere: cameras watching, devices listening, scanners reading. They discover the written tenets of freedom on which we rely, and these truths disappear from the Net as if burned in a fire of Fahrenheit 451 degrees.
The Plague of Locusts casts the shadow of shame across creation.
The shadow is the shame for not believing we are all in this together, and for believing we only can be united in the oneness of voluntary captivity.
The maskless, the hugger, the friendly smiler, and any who question the virtue of locusts - all such are to be shamed. The command comes forth, “Draw your weapon of shame and silence them, oh you sheeple!”
And we are shamed into submission.
The Plague of Locusts keeps me bound in my home. They are like the shade on my window to the world, cutting off the sunshine of truth and knowledge.
The world is encompassed by them, quaking with fear in their shadow.
There is no recourse against this Plague of Locusts, for they are necessary to fight the COVID god. Indeed, who can fight this evil COVID god?
But we begin to wonder if the god of scientism has betrayed us. What is worse: the COVID or the treatment?
Still we flee before the Plague of Locusts, stampeded into our stalls, covered by the locusts (please, take me to my home, not to a home for the aged or to a hospital to die!).
No place is safe. Even in seclusion, we are not safe. But we know that when Alexa or the Nest reveal our secrets, this is done for the good of society, for we are all in this together!
Yet when they come for us, each one will then be alone. The others will cut us off from the oneness. We are taken alone to the place prepared for such as us: the ‘camp,’ or the ‘resettlement,’ or the “education center.’ They will teach us how to be part of the oneness.
But God (the divine conjunction!) did not give us a spirit of fear!
The locusts are “out there.” They are not “in here,” in the temple that holds my mind. The “temple” on each side of my head has its name, and the two hold my purpose.
What is out there is less important than what is in here.
Out there is what I cannot control, but my response is in here, and that I can control.
When I have the mind of Christ, I am not perfect, but He has promised that because of Him, I am clean. He heals all diseases, and he cleanses the heart.
When we are without hatred for our oppressors, when we do not participate in the fear of the COVID, and when we have shed the other negative emotions to which we are heirs, then we experience the power, love, and sound mind that resists the evil one. (How can the COVID prevail?)
This is the spirit of love that we communicate outwardly into the plague, and also that we communicate inwardly to each individual cell of the body. It is a message of love and hope, the promise that all is well.
The body rests in the arms of the spirit, secure in the spirit’s power. That is more than enough.
Next Chronicle
The Plague of Locusts comes from the eastern horizon!
FactCheckers and ContactTracers and StatisticsQuoters are swirling about us, preparing to descend!
The Plague of Locusts descends upon us, devouring all truth before it.
Individually, they were only grasshoppers once, content in their fields. But time and chance (actually, fear and executive orders) destroyed their fields. The hungry grasshoppers received the power to delete, the ability to hunt down, the authority to lockdown, and thus they became a plague of locusts.
They cut asunder friendships. They split families. They stack the shreds of relationships and create bonfires!
They produce nothing, but they devour people, businesses, and churches. Their task is to leave a scorched earth, pure and cleansed. With unholy righteousness, they descend from the east.
My relatives remain far away, and my close friends desert me, even those with whom I have broken bread. Strangers avert their eyes above their masks. They will not acknowledge me because I take my own bag to the grocery (even this is prohibited, you know, lest you kill someone!). They stick out their tongue beneath the mask.
The Plague of Locusts infests my phone and my computer.
They dwell in my Nest, turning my automated home against me. The Echo of Alexa’s voice calls the locusts to me.
Once only a black cloud on the distant horizon, a work of fiction in the mind of Bradbury, the locusts now are everywhere: cameras watching, devices listening, scanners reading. They discover the written tenets of freedom on which we rely, and these truths disappear from the Net as if burned in a fire of Fahrenheit 451 degrees.
The Plague of Locusts casts the shadow of shame across creation.
The shadow is the shame for not believing we are all in this together, and for believing we only can be united in the oneness of voluntary captivity.
The maskless, the hugger, the friendly smiler, and any who question the virtue of locusts - all such are to be shamed. The command comes forth, “Draw your weapon of shame and silence them, oh you sheeple!”
And we are shamed into submission.
The Plague of Locusts keeps me bound in my home. They are like the shade on my window to the world, cutting off the sunshine of truth and knowledge.
The world is encompassed by them, quaking with fear in their shadow.
There is no recourse against this Plague of Locusts, for they are necessary to fight the COVID god. Indeed, who can fight this evil COVID god?
But we begin to wonder if the god of scientism has betrayed us. What is worse: the COVID or the treatment?
Still we flee before the Plague of Locusts, stampeded into our stalls, covered by the locusts (please, take me to my home, not to a home for the aged or to a hospital to die!).
No place is safe. Even in seclusion, we are not safe. But we know that when Alexa or the Nest reveal our secrets, this is done for the good of society, for we are all in this together!
Yet when they come for us, each one will then be alone. The others will cut us off from the oneness. We are taken alone to the place prepared for such as us: the ‘camp,’ or the ‘resettlement,’ or the “education center.’ They will teach us how to be part of the oneness.
But God (the divine conjunction!) did not give us a spirit of fear!
The locusts are “out there.” They are not “in here,” in the temple that holds my mind. The “temple” on each side of my head has its name, and the two hold my purpose.
What is out there is less important than what is in here.
Out there is what I cannot control, but my response is in here, and that I can control.
When I have the mind of Christ, I am not perfect, but He has promised that because of Him, I am clean. He heals all diseases, and he cleanses the heart.
When we are without hatred for our oppressors, when we do not participate in the fear of the COVID, and when we have shed the other negative emotions to which we are heirs, then we experience the power, love, and sound mind that resists the evil one. (How can the COVID prevail?)
This is the spirit of love that we communicate outwardly into the plague, and also that we communicate inwardly to each individual cell of the body. It is a message of love and hope, the promise that all is well.
The body rests in the arms of the spirit, secure in the spirit’s power. That is more than enough.
Next Chronicle
