Edge of the west
When a certain salty-dog old landlord used to take the rent check from me, he would brand me every time as an “economic illiterate” for paying rent to him rather than buying a house, and you want to talk about that guy biting the hand that feeds him? Ouch. Truth is, he was probably right, you know, because, so help me God, I still don’t know a sub-prime mortgage from a sub-prime rib but I do know this: welcome to the newly ordained United Socialist States of America. You can pinch yourself all you want but you’re not dreaming, sir, you’re going Commie. This staunch, right-wing, rugged individualist, personal-responsibility-touting, free-market-worshiping, ruling cadre is seizing control of failing financial entities and throwing our common pool of money at so many corporate beggars so fast you’d think we were being led by a bunch of drunken sailors chasing whores in Tijuana. Marx and Lenin are doubled over in their graves with laughter. I’m working on the screenplay as we speak: “Dude, Where’s My Free Market?”
Oh, I forgot, there is no free market, not really. When the very owners of it, who have deliriously prospered from it, suddenly can’t make it on their own rugged-individualist terms and start crying like a baby as in, “Waaah, I want my big government and I want it now.” What do you think happens? Seeya free market, hello big government, that’s what happens. Go figure.
Well, how about big government coming over here for a bail-out, to 26th and Wilshire, where that frail 80-something old lady sleeps on her cardboard slat every night out in front of 3 Day Blinds? No big government to be found up in there. Big government is very selective, you know; big government jumps in only when whiny billionaires get swallowed up in their own greedy vomit. Other than that, you know it’s pox on big government.
See, it’s pox on big government when big government might use its might and wealth to uplift some 44 million of its citizens with a studied health care arrangement that might afford that guy down there at Ortho delivering mattresses a chance to see a doctor when his back starts tightening up after 20 years of bringing your bed into your home so you can sleep better. See, this common pool of money has a specific delivery instruction attached to it and it reads —“Priority Parcel: Wall Street only.”
Bill O’Reilly said it on his show the other night, barely able to conceal his glee, “You can kiss any notion of national health care goodbye now.” Lou Dobbs, right-wing wolf in faux-populist clothes, also with glee, said, “There will be a reduction in entitlements, period.” Of course “entitlements” is the code word for programs like welfare for poor single mothers, health care for the sick elderly, and maybe even the social security that we can only hope is still there by the time we come to depend on it.
Where would you think our common pool of money would go when so many duly elected leaders in the executive and legislative branches have big-time investments in some of the very firms that now hold their hand out? And where would you think our common pool of money would go when that common pool of money is about to be placed solely in the hands of Henry Paulson, Jr., Secretary of the Treasury, who ran into the ground one of the biggest panhandlers of all, Goldman-Sachs, and who sold some five million shares of his failed company’s stock for oh, around $400 million, give or take a buck or two as he took over the U.S. Treasury in 2006? His ex-firm now sits in line to get tens of billions from this common pool, and Bush has placed a directive in this deal that would give Paulson absolute, king-like authority to do whatever he wants with the cash. Is this the coyote in charge of the henhouse or what?
However stupid they must think we are, well, we’re even stupider.
And here’s the kicker—they blame it all on Clinton. Again.
By the way, do they forward social security checks to Paris, France?
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