The Book Thief

I am watching “The Book Thief”.

If you’ve seen it, you know it is narrated by “Death”.

If you haven’t seen it, you know that now.

I can’t help but be reminded of the world in which we live. The majority along for the ride. Fitting in.

In WW II Germany, they burned books so they would not see.  Controlling thought. And by doing so, behavior.

But today no need to burn books.

For thought has long since been replaced by sound bites and sloganeering: choice; women’s rights; termination; products of conception, ad nauseam. Semanics greasing the skids of a world-wide killing machine which, in scope and sheer brutality, would have been the envy of the Fuhrer.

No need to burn books because real thought and decency have long since been hijacked. As has been the will to resist among those of us who know better. Lulled to sleep by the drip, drip, drip of the propaganda machine. And our own collective tepid response, fueling the sense of helplessness that grips us. Such that upon learning that there is at least one (Gianna Jessen) who managed to survive the un-survivable, we simply fit that living contradiction into our daily schedule. Like we do the local abortion mill that we rarely (ever?) darken with our shadow.

After all we are simply too busy to set aside an evening (May 1st in St. Louis) to honor this voice of “LIFE overcoming the narrator.”

One has to wonder have we become the crowd in the book, gathered around the bonfire of truth, own sense of decency long since drowned out by the “Grim……narrator”?

We have to end this madness.


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