A farmer was walking down a path with a three-legged pig. A merchant saw this, stopped the man and asked if he could buy the pig, figuring he could get a good deal. The farmer replied that he could never sell that pig as it had saved his life. “How’s that?” asked the merchant. The farmer then told his story. “A week ago, my family was asleep when a fire started in the farmhouse. None of us woke up and soon were almost overcome with smoke. This pig saw the fire and ran into the house repeatedly until he had dragged me, my wife, and our three children to safety. So, as you can see, I could never sell this pig.” “Wow,” said the merchant. I completely understand. ” Then, eyeing the pig he stated, “I suppose he lost his leg rescuing your family.” The farmer replied, “No, he wasn’t injured in the rescue.” “Then how’d he lose his leg?” “You don’t eat a pig like that all at once.
Democracy is our pig. It has looked out for us for almost 250 years. But piece by piece we’re taking her down, soundbite by soundbite, party line vote by party line vote.
Things like this take time. I once wrote and edited a documentary on the suicide of Jim Jones and his followers in the jungles of Guyana: ordinary everyday people who believed in the promised land. But day by day, piece by piece, he dismantled that vision and replaced it with one in which he was the center of worship.
This pig’s on three legs.
Think about that next time before you post that hysterically funny meme that puts down the other party or seeks to make fools of opposition leaders.
Most of us are just drops in the bucket, but collectively, over time, we’re gonna eat that pig right down to the bone.