The Fall of America

an original allegorical tale by Cyd Ropp

Some people say that hindsight is 20-20. And, looking back from where they stood now, it was hard to imagine that people didn’t see this coming. But they went along with the program, good sports to the end.

And by the end, there wasn’t much left. Yes, the land was still there, but order and reason were nowhere to be found. Poverty and despair had taken their place.

It’s funny how much you can get away with if you say it’s all for your own good. Or, it’s for the good of the children. Or the grannies and the grandpas and the sick and the vulnerable. But always, always for the greater good. And it’s up to those running the show to tell us what is good.

No one could have imagined that the Fall of America took less than a month. No invading armies were required to bring the nation to its knees. No dictator. No military coup. No shots fired. Only rumors of a plague.

So when the lockdowns came, the people went along. After all, in the face of a pandemic, it seemed prudent to shutter the factories and close the schools. Somehow it seemed like a wise course of action to quit work and stay at home. Somewhere someone declared which workers were essential, and only these were allowed to receive paychecks for their labor. Those workers who were deemed non-essential were no longer invited downtown. Main Street closed. No more eating out. No drinks in the pub with friends. No trips to the gym or unnecessary medical procedures.

Easter was cancelled. Then all religious services, all over the land were banned. Indeed, gatherings of all kinds were banned. No memorials for the dead; no bouquets and blushing brides. No parades. No clubs. No social gatherings at all. For anyone.

Passage outside the home was restricted. No fresh air excursions to the park or the beach. No ball games. No playing. Social distancing became the password. Never too close to another human being. Best not pet the neighbor’s dog. Never kiss a cat.

Masks quickly became required apparel. Like a fedora in the ‘40s. Or boots in Texas. No shopping without one. No trips to the post office without the mask in place. Under the chin, over the nose, around the ears. No touching. No touching. No touching.

The people lay their rights on the altar of civic responsibility. But then they discovered that their sacrifice had been made to a false god, an idol dedicated to the emerging surveillance state. They soon discovered the terrible price of passage now required that their every movement be traced and recorded. They found the cost of their freedom came at the expense of their privacy. Still they shrugged their shoulders and obeyed.

And then the glorious day came when the promised vaccine was delivered. Essential workers were the first to be granted reprieve. Next in line were non-essential persons like ministers, teachers, and shop keepers. But while they were queuing up, the edict was amended to read that the promised vaccine was now required. Required to go back to work. Required to go back to school. Not too long after that, the edict demanded proof of vaccine to exit one’s home. Proof to go shopping. Proof to keep health insurance. Proof to cash a retirement check or receive a driver’s license.

Those who resisted vaccinations for their own good and the greater good of all were deemed socially irresponsible at first, quickly followed by pronouncements of either psychosis or criminal intent to harm others. Naturally, for their own good, those in power managed to recruit an army of red cross volunteers to canvass neighborhoods and administer shots. Uncooperative, that is to say, psychotic or criminal, citizens were next visited by less amiable government representatives armed with both pistols and needles. Resistance, as they say, was futile.

In the end, when all the smoke had cleared, the people woke up to discover that the land they loved was no longer there. America had fallen.