One thing I’ve noticed in life is that there are two types of people. The first group are those that do hard things, make hard decisions and actually build things. They are the gladiators that actually throw themselves into the ring.
Then there are those that make a living critiquing and analyzing the gladiators. The ‘should have’ and ‘would have’ crowd. The ones that critique the gladiator’s performance and eagerly await the opportunity to give a thumbs down as the gladiator lays wounded in the ring.
This latter group is comprised of the Michael Moores and Jesse Jacksons. These are the ones that live off the violence. They are dependent upon it. Like pitiful maggots eating away at the gladiators wounds, without the gladiators they can’t survive.
But dare ask, where are they when it’s time for the gladiators to rehab? Where are they when the gladiators enter the long, painful process of recovery?
Perhaps more importantly, where were they even before the match, when the training and hard work was being done?
The answer to both questions: Nowhere to be found.
Instead, they move from arena to arena, basking in the limelight of each fight while feasting on the flesh of the wounded until there is no more to feed upon. Then they move to another arena. To another fight where they seek more wounded gladiators on which to feed.