The Red Machetes In Our Vineyard

It’s no longer news, even to a-day old child, that the vineyard belongs to all of us; but, it’s absurd to hear that it has been profoundly personalized by our fellow shareholders. 

You may ignore me or overlook my critique because I’m just meditating aloud, but very soon, I would be commenting loudly.

Please, let’s discuss a very critical issue. Has it ever occurred to your senses that the manner in which your name, or better still your full name, sounds to the people around you matters a lot? From my perspective, one’s name remains his/her first identity because with the name, he/she can present him/herself in absentia.

Having noted the above fact, how people perceive your name ought to be of paramount importance to your person, rather than paying more attention to trivial issues that deceptively seem worthwhile to you. Pardon the digression, please, though I have chosen to comment on ‘parable’ as long as this critique lasts.

We all know that machetes are very vital and potent tools required in any vineyard irrespective of the season. But recently, I’ve come to realize that, most of the machetes being used in the vineyard that belongs to me and you are not just red, but excessively red.

Mind you, ‘red’ as a colour can represent either a positive or negative interpretation; but in this context, we are sighting at the negative notation of red which signifies ‘danger’. Let’s ride on!

The redness of their skins (bodies) is partly attributable to the transience of their sincerity, and wholly not unconnected with their respective deceptive instincts.

In spite of the pronounced reddish nature of the stated skins, yet, most of us can’t comprehend the scene. As for me, they have become insufferable pests to our vineyard, with their individual uncontrollable and intolerable thefts and deceits. After all, millions of them had been caught red-handed in the past whilst many are presently undergoing ‘unreliable’ trials.

Of course, they have been heckled by their subjects in several public gatherings. I was privileged to be present. It’s obvious that such uncultured attitudes exhibited by their audiences were due to their deceitful and uncertain countenance.

Frankly, my humble and ever clever visage has abruptly turned sour as a result of the debris I observe daily in this gifted vineyard.

Initially, my physiognomy was tolerant over the poignant scenario. Subsequently, I came to understand that being a mere onlooker in a vineyard which everyone of us has a share would deter the vines from growing healthily; and such a phenomenon would warrant unquantifiable death rate in the near future.

Mind you, I’m not pointing any accusing finger at any of the machetes; rather, I’m trying to embrace realism here. For crying out loud, most of the machetes are red, thus it’s high time we overhauled them before they turn the entire vineyard red, which will portray an aberration.

If the vineyard eventually turns red, I’m afraid, none of the vines would produce an edible grape. Apparently, it would be tantamount to embracing the bloodiest platform.

Lately, the larceny and deceit found in these red machetes are generating ignominious scenes in the global circle, thereby constituting a ‘global warming’.

Without mincing words, with regard to this ongoing global warming, I’m intensely afraid of the fact that, we stand to witness a complete futile vineyard in no distant time if the needful isn’t done in earnest.

However, I’m personally of the view that we stand to restore normalcy if we desist from reckoning on those bad machetes. Believe me, embracing realism and truism is one of the recipes for the foreseen moment of fathomless productivity and endless jubilation.

Let’s not allow our vineyard to become a byword for obstinacy and brutality. We ought to collectively endeavour to call a spade, a spade. Any red machete is no longer useful; it ought to be considered as a rebellious priest, therefore should be excommunicated and taken away for thorough penance and deliverance.

My remarks so far might have discharged asperity to the fullness, but I want to candidly let you know that it wasn’t a planned gesture. Kindly forgive my spasm of anger; just that, we can’t continue to be tenants in our tenement.

The time is ripe for us as a people to ensure that all the ripe grapes produced by our vines would no longer be harvested with the bad machetes to avoid likely contamination.

At this juncture, I unequivocally disabuse you of the notion that our vineyard can be well and serene again without fiercely taking those unwanted machetes to where they rightly belong. Yes, we need machetes for the ongoing cultivation, but not red ones.

Hence, enough of this apprehension; I’m damn sick and tired of receiving the usual roguish expression or smile from their faces. How could the machetes we entrusted with our vineyard rob the vineyard in question?