THE TERMITE APOLOGUE

Forgetting the frog...

Of all the analogies, similes, metaphors, parables, and other wordsmithing tools available to the madrasa of political punditry, the apologue of the Boiling Frog is still the reigning champ. It’s been used everywhere — environmentalism, anti‑authoritarianism, civic decline — because it captures how incremental loss slips by unnoticed. (And no, Ben Franklin didn’t coin it, despite what your uncle on Facebook insists.)

But the frog metaphor is one‑dimensional. It’s about temperature, not structure. It warns about discomfort, not collapse. And frankly, frogs don’t destroy anything except the occasional mosquito.

If you really want to wake up your lethargic neighbors, you need a different creature — one equally familiar, but far more destructive.

I give you: the termite.

A single termite is nothing. Squashable. Forgettable. Even a handful pose no real challenge to anyone with a pulse and a shoe.

But tens of thousands? That’s an infestation. That’s structural damage. That’s collapse from within.

Termites work quietly, invisibly, behind paneling and sheetrock. You don’t see the destruction until the floor gives way beneath you. Frogs can’t do that. Termites can — and do.

Which makes them the perfect parable for sleeping citizens.

Right now, the Federal government employs nearly 3 million termites. That’s just the federal level. Add state government (NY: 271,000) and local government (NY: 450,000), and you’ve got battalions chewing through the foundation of freedom — one law, one regulation, one bureaucratic “decision” at a time.

It’s happening right now, simultaneously, in real time. And it’s been happening for over 250 years — slowly, quietly, incrementally — behind the walls and doors of government offices across the ‘Fruited Plain’ (thanks, Rush).

So now that the infestation is visible, the question becomes:

What are you going to do about it?

Well, analogously, you are the exterminator. Time to get to work.

“Arrrgh!” — you say — “but I am only one! You just told me there are millions of them. What can one person do?”

Don’t look now, but there are millions of you across the country. And the only thing more powerful than a termite infestation… is a citizenry that finally wakes up.

“It doesn’t take a majority to prevail…”

What happens if even a fraction of those millions wake up? If even a sliver of them stop shrugging and start acting? If even a handful decide that the foundation is worth saving?

Termites win only when the homeowners stay asleep. Wake up, and the infestation ends.

“…an irate, tireless minority…”

Termites don’t stop on their own. They stop when someone notices. They stop when someone cares. They stop when someone acts.

The question isn’t whether the foundation can be saved. It’s whether the people living in the house still think it’s theirs.

“…setting brushfires of freedom in the minds of men.”

Termites don’t fear laws, speeches, or slogans. They fear light. They fear noise. They fear the homeowner who finally puts down the remote, picks up a flashlight, and says:

“Not in my house.”

Because the truth is simple: The Republic isn’t dying from termites. It’s dying from people who stopped checking the walls.

BW