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The Wolves Among Us
Separating Friend From Foe in the Fog of War
A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
It’s a refrain as ubiquitous in the political realm as it is overused.
That said, all archetypes have their place in the Collective Mind for good reason. They have been imprinted or have remained long after other sayings, turns of phrase and truisms fade away, lost to the ages or confined to the cultures and times in which they originate.
But, as we explored in one of the most popular entries ever at Burning Bright, ‘Cry Wolf,’ there are some archetypal refrains that stand the test of time because they reveal a central truth.
So then, what truth does the ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ idiom reveal about humanity?
There’s no trick to this one. No subversive mystery aside from the implication of subversion itself, which is ubiquitous with the Fifth-Generation Warfare tactics we explore routinely around these parts. This idiom, from the days of the Bible to the modern age, in every tongue there ever has been and ever will be conveys a base truth that it would do us well to remember:
The enemy does not always scale the walls or knock them down when they seek to take your kingdom and everything in it. Sometimes—most times, perhaps—they not only walk in through the front gates unharried, but they are invited in.
So, then, as we transition from the purely symbolic to the current and apparent, I will impart a simple, honest truth of my own at the outset: I have no more knowledge than any of you do regarding which figures are paragons and which are charlatans, which are jackals and which are lions, which are wolves and which are sheep, and which are the one passing as the other.
But I have a few guesses, just as many of us do who have spent the better part of the Trump and MAGA era—and all the slings and arrows it has brought with it—attempting to separate one from another so that we might better understand who seeks to help us into a new golden age of American—of worldwide Sovereign—exceptionalism … and who seeks to cause us to stumble over the very stones they would then use to make an end of us once we have fallen down.
While this week has been and continues to be both a contentious and momentous one as we consider the myriad implications of the Midterms, I would posit that, in the long run, the biggest story—at least, the most impactful—that we will remember long after this small page in history is turned concerns the storytellers themselves.
After all, if you have been frequenting my writings, you’ll know that I believe stories run the world, just as I believe we have better storytellers than [they] do.
From Donald Trump and his allies to those playing roles for all the right reasons at present—some of which will be revealed in time and some of which, no doubt will remain obscured to us, perhaps for all time—the Controllers have largely lost control of the Collective Mind because they have forgotten that the best stories have truth at the heart of them, and deal not in deceit, but in knowledge and in betterment.
That said, while we may not always be able to determine whose side on the chess board every player in the game currently occupies or will occupy in the future, we can more clearly observe those commenting on it from the sidelines. From the ‘right wing’ blue check crowd that were conspicuously free during an era of unchecked censorious policy dominated by Marxist philosophical oppression to the MSM rags taking up the same divisive calls, these cackling hyenas and squawking crows would use a moment of seeming weakness—and I do use that term very loosely—in order to drive a stake into the heart of the movement Donald Trump did not create, but awakened in the collective heart of the Collective Mind.
Infiltration instead of invasion.
Many of you have heard that refrain—that strategy and that truism of modern war—and many of us have been turning it over for years as we have examined all the deceitful, subversive and admittedly quite clever ways in which the Deep State Globalists’ System of Systems slowly infected every pillar of western society en route to controlling many of its political, financial and even cultural vectors.
Through this assumed, widespread control, they have not only managed to wage wars of the kinetic and financial variety for decades—if not longer—but they have also managed to spark cultural wars within the western population itself, dividing and provoking, and pitting black against white, woman against man and child against parent, all while attempting to transfer sovereign power from the individual to the collective.
And while they have done so using the commandeered public levers of administrative, political and legal power—and internationally using financial and military force—one of their most potent weapons has been the one formed of the aforementioned hyenas and crows, jackals and jesters that make up the combined, paradigm-shifting and narrative-setting might of the Media and Entertainment Industrial Complex.
From Mainstream Media chyrons on blue backgrounds just as well as red, to late night ‘comedians’ dancing and smiling through their fanged teeth while driving wedges between every societal segment and crack their masters have pried, to the ‘influencers’ and commentators who pour gasoline drip by drop, slowly and carefully over time, waiting for the proper moment to strike a match and set all the subversive truth they have cultivated ablaze over the cult of personality that cuts to the heart of their power, this carrion collective is the enemy of the people.
I was going to reveal this enemy to you in this piece. I was going to list them, from the jackals to the crows, the hyenas to the wolves and the magicians pulling their strings, and I may yet, in the near future.
But then, I’m in one of my poetic moods today.
After all, I am myself a commentator and a writer, sometimes a joker and a jester, and it is not up to me whether my readers and my listeners—whether you yourself—consider me a jackal or a crow, a wolf or a lion. Or perhaps the tiger whose likeness I wear like a second skin, and like a spirit I would embody, or that would embody me.
I sincerely hope that you find truth in my musings and hope in my writings, sometimes even where it is missed by me. Truth has a way of doing that, of crashing like a waterfall or seeping like a stream, wearing grooves through rivers of time we miss at first glance.
But more so than that, I hope you recognize intent when you see it, when you read it and when you hear it, on either side of good and bad, and I hope your memory of which is which is long.
So, as we observe a an almost comically large-scale turn by some of the most influential public figures—mostly commentators—who wear the public mantle of America First or MAGA but sow more division than our would-be adversaries, attempting to cast Trump as a bombastic, harmful figure from a bygone era that must be abandoned, I would only ask that you commit their names and their faces and their current dispositions to your memory, so that you might recognize the barbarians the next time they are at the gate, or the wolves the next time they are among the flock.
And remember that, should the wolves be revealed, while they may seem threatening at first—even powerful—they will be reduced to desert foxes in the presence of lions, and jackals in the presence of tigers.
Until next time, stay Positive, stay Based and most importantly … stay Bright.
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