Politically Active Sheeple

Freedom of speech and satire is the next big thing, right? Here's my two cents on Murdoch, Charlie Hebdo and the insanity spiralling out of control.


~

There once lived a shepherd who had some sheep,
They lived rather amiably with no reason to bleat,
An occasional rainfall or neighbourhood fire,
Would make them feel like their lives were dire,
But on regular days, life was good.

And so they lived, happy as can be,
Following their shepherd unquestionably,
He steered them to one side and so they complied,
For they knew he knew best, he would never have lied!
His path was the best, and none could deny.

One day the shepherd sat by their side,
"Let me tell you of a secret of how to survive,"
And so they listened with bated breath,
For he was their only source of news and press,
His word was holy, and was second to none.

He whispered of others who roamed the streets,
Dancing everyday, pretty bells on their feet,
They were nice to be around and seemingly normal,
Their milk was good, though their cheese abnormal,
"They're fine, I tell you, until I change my mind."

"For when I do, you must beware,
These fiendish beasts are as quick as a hare,
They creep into your life and take it over,
They'll steal your grass and even the clovers,
Leaving you wishing you had never been nice to begin with."

And so the sheep listened, their minds slightly numb,
Not thinking to themselves, because they thought they were dumb,
How could they ever use their minds to decide,
When, of course, everything he said was nothing but wise,
A concrete ideology and set in stone.

"Most of all, beware of the bearded ones,
They're awfully frightful, every last one!
They'll brainwash your lambs and make them sick,
Believe me," he said, as he waved his stick,
Adding extra emphasis and adjectives to capture their thoughts.

And so the sheep listened, a fear gripping their hearts,
For the shepherd had succeeded in his conniving art,
Using a word or two to sway their minds,
Drawing a hashtag with his stick in case they were blind,
Blind to the truth of the words he uttered.

Suddenly the bearded ones seemed to appear on every corner,
They smiled, said peace and called everyone brother,
And though most of them seemed to be relatively nice,
One bad rat stands out in a cage full of mice,
So they must all be the same, just like the shepherd had said.

The eldest sheep called for a meeting and so they came,
"We must get rid of them, for they are all one and the same!
They should be nuked, all need to be gone from here,
Or at least held responsible for spreading cancerous fear,
And bring and end to this insanity, for once and for all."

All the sheep in the world, from lands far and near,
Stood together as one, raising their voices for all to hear,
"This cancer must go. If it does not, our end is nigh,
Let us be rid of the bearded ones," they shouted to the skies,
All sheep bleating at once, their baah's echoing in unison.

The shepherd was proud, his work here was done,
And to make it better, he would teach it to his son,
How to manipulate the sheep and make him follow his lead,
He was doing them a favour, his last good deed.
He leaned on his stick and smiled as he watched the sun set over his land.

Peace.