OCCUPY THIS!

I mean, really, what do you people want? You already get flu shots, fluoride in the water, interstate commerce, your mail delivered to your door, a world-class forest service, armed marshals on airplanes, terrorists safely out of the way in Cuba, Workman’s Comp, paid vacations, the SEC, the FDA, the PTA. The whole nine yards. You want a free ride, move to Finland.

Talk about ingratitude! We give you a chance to get into your own home with a two percent mortgage, and you bitch about it: “You’re taking advantage us!” How? By allowing you to have a piece of the American Dream with nothing down? Your own lawn and barbecue pit for five grand? Come on! It’s not our fault you can’t make the payments. Do the math next time.

We’ve had it up to here with your bitching and moaning. You want to sleep in public parks and sing Kumbaya, you can clean up after yourselves. It’s our tax money that’s paying for disposing of the condoms, marijuana cigarettes, rotting organic vegetables, all those silly signs about inequality of wealth.

Some people have more money than you. Get over it. Marxism went south with Fidel Castro. If God wanted us all to have the same amount of money, he wouldn’t have created brains. It’s bad enough we have the graduated income tax. I mean, I’m paying 36 percent, while you’re paying next to zip — if, in fact, you’re actually even bothering to file a return. Just because you work in a carwash doesn’t mean you get a pass from Uncle Sam. I mean, where do you think the water comes from? Did you dig your own well?

Medicare? Don’t get me started. All you have to do is manage not to die before you’re sixty-five, and you’re on the dole for the duration. I don’t ask you to pay for my medical expenses, and, believe me, I have a few. No, I’m paying some insurance company $1,200 a month to get my herniated disc treated. Not to mention, god knows how much for yours.

Food stamps? Please….! You stock up with as much vichyssoise, anchovy pizza and butter beans as you want. You just hand those little suckers to the cashier and march out with your full grocery cart, which you take to whatever rent-subsidized garden apartment you’re living in. And who pays for those unreturned shopping carts? Huh? Do you think they grow on trees?

Some maniac, high on ginkgo biloba, rear-ends me in his pickup, and guess who has to present his insurance card before he gets his brains sewed up in the ER? But you, thanks to the Hypocritical Oath – another perk you don’t pay for — they take directly into surgery.

You don’t have to shell out fifty grand a year to send your kid to Yale. You get to pay next-to-nothing for a perfectly good state college, to which — if you’ve managed to keep your under-the-table income off your tax return — you get a scholarship. And, then you want the public to fund gay and lesbian clubs, wireless coffee shops, bicycle racks. Give me a break…

So you’re 99% of the population. Big deal. 99% of this country doesn’t have macular degeneration. Does that give them the right to persecute those who do? Read the Bill of Rights, for chrissakes. We hold these truths to be self-evident, and so forth.

Well, we’re mobilizing. No more Mr. Nice Guy. We’re going to occupy your turf. See how you like it. We’re going to sit in at your Medicare offices, your public libraries, your free clinics, wherever the hell it is they print food stamps. We’re going dismantle The National Weather Service, scrap the CDC, jam NPR. You can fend for yourself for the next hurricane, wear a surgical mask to work, live without Nina Totenberg.

We’ve had it up to here. We demand justice, we the beleaguered, the deprecated one percent – without whom you wouldn’t even have a country to shit on. Upward and onward! Power to the plutocrats!

Altogether now, turn your back to them, lower your pants and repeat after me: OCCUPY THIS!

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