Metaphors, Allegory and Modern Times in the West

The cry of wolf, wolf, wolf, once a rarity not to be taken lightly had become a cacophony, its echoes incessantly battling new generations of shouts and those increasing exponentially until the cry filled the air and the airwaves and the text on trees devoured for paper (joined every once in a while with allusions to someone named Chamberlain).

One would have thought the wolves were omnipresent and perhaps, in a sense, at least in some parts, they were. But then one might notice that it seemed as though it was the wolves themselves raising the ever increasing outcry, at least if one managed to glance beneath their fleecy capes.

And the sheep? Well, … the sheep, being sheep, just brayed and scattered, and ran around, figuratively covering their heads to save themselves from falling pieces of sky as they walked into the waiting pens the wolves had so kindly set up for their protection, where they happily joined in the cries, even as their numbers swiftly decreased.

Wonder what the wolves will do when the sheep are all gone?
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