“The people of Zerual are a trusting lot. They are fair and
content to live their lives. These people make the best prey,” the Chronicler began.
This night was rainy and dreary. The dampness seeped into the bones of the old and
the very young. He used his environment to accentuate his words. The mood for a
dreary story reached an apex. He thanked God for the slow-falling rain and for the
large drops that made a lot of noise when they struck the tin roofs, the wooden
slates, and the large puddles. He would have to talk louder than normal and he would
lose his vocal range, but it would not outweigh his emotional impact.
He continued. “The best way to control people is to supply their
needs so they can pursue higher endeavors. With a benefactor giving them food and
clothing, they can focus on leisure and art. The local businessman will shift his
focus from supplying staples of life to charming items. Craftsmen will shift from
functional, practical goods and tools to frail works of art. Food providers will
shift their output from healthy, hearty dining to frilly eye candy. Oh, the real
menial jobs will remain, but they will be shifted to the least educated members
of society.
“Once this has been established for a generation or two, the
real control can slam down. Those used to this supply from their benefactors will
demand it as a right. They deserve what they are given, no matter the personal cost.
They even sacrifice the real wealth of the country to obtain it. ‘Those rich people
are only that way from our labor.’ The sinister leader swoops onto the scene and
feeds the rabble their marching orders. They gladly obey, for they will lose their
needs if they are not given them. They have no self-sufficiency. They have no sense
of true worth. They have shifted their focus from God blessing them to the other
benefactor. They will do anything to keep what they need. This is the way Zerual
fell.”
The rain pattered. No one spoke. The Chronicler took a deep
breath. “Let me weave you a tale of ultimate
deceit. The people of Zerual never knew they were slaves, even when they were killing
one another.…”
