Liberty is much rarer than life, but Vermont has successfully turned some of its people against it. The State’s health department (peace be upon them) received 194 complaints about COVID19 violations of the State’s Emergency Orders.
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The department encouraged people to reach out to the program for complaints about restaurants, which is separate from the Department of Public Safety’s Executive Order Reporting Tool which also provides an avenue to report lodging properties and restaurants.
Gov. Scott’s snitch-line has not been as active as Charlie Baker’s. Bigger state, more snitches. But what was once the cradle of liberty – they sold the cradle for “much needed” highway money, is a long way down the road to hell. Vermont only recently passed the starting line in comparison not long before the century turned. Though it already seems beyond saving.
And while not much is expected to come of that Green-Mountain-Snitch, this infection will remain when COVID is gone. Once you have schooled the peasants to play the rat “community,” policing takes on a whole new meaning.
The Coronavirus singers will produce a phone call with the proprietors, odds being very good that there was some sort of misunderstanding. In rare instances, an approved “expert” will be dispatched to ensure a proper grasp of expectations.
There’s nothing quite like a government happy to help. And so they shall with an unbecoming eagerness. And while this is a threat it is the mechanism that provokes this benevolence into being that is the greater danger. First to create it, then to fund it, and then to inspire.
It takes very little encouragement to grow the docket of “see something say something” infractions of which snitches are happy to keep at ready a list. It starts out with “why aren’t they wearing a mask” and magically transforms into “excuse me, but you don’t see a framed picture of the Fuehrer in plain sight.”
Nervous laughter is appropriate then and now.
Vermont, once upon a time, had a spirit of rebellion against tyranny. The New Hampshire Men, later rebranded as the Green Mountain Boys, would never stand (sit, or kneel) for such as this. They certainly would not stoop to ratting our freemen to the Crown.
And yet here we are so close to that gift of freedom and so far from its meaning that the people, at least some of them, are crowing their elected leaders and smelling the metal for their own shackles, right across the river from New Hampshire. And some of them are wandering across and bringing this baggage with them.
