Tag Archives: Government Fraud

Working Poor

Here we don’t chase no nationalized dream, we run from the reality that those folks chasing the dream run right over us, until it’s time to vote. We don’t have time to dream. Life is too short. Cold weather and sore backs won’t even let us sleep long enough.

We don’t need a hand up or out. We’ll be fine if you just keep your hands out of our pockets and let us keep the money we earn.

Keep our hands free from your fake bracelets. Leave us alone to wave goodbye your peddling laws for the drugs you sponsor. Stop pretending you wanna shake our hand when you’re really shaking us down from our homes to the trap disguised as a convenience store, into the hallways of your schools designed to steal our children’s minds. Keep your hallelujahs, we have our own prayers, and they’re free!

I’m sick of folks attacking the poor. They want something in return for every kindness. You demonize our mothers for a few stamps that fund your economy. You want to trade their piss for some block cheese. You musta forgot all those hypocrites you got for neighbors who got jobs handing out that cheese. You don’t understand the “10 for 10” at your poseur grocery is funded by the subsidies they get receiving all that state money. You don’t understand how many of your neighbors are gonna be movin if we decided to not spend those stamps.

These idiots don’t even know how they benefit from our decision or misfortune to live poor. They don’t even understand that “Targey” they shop at, or that Japanese food joint they enjoy on their lunch break was possible because the company that built it hired temporary laborers a few days a week cause they’d lose money putting those folks on a payroll. They built these homes and businesses on the backs of those kids sucking the milk from those vouchers.

You enjoy those nice positions you got outta hustle, not effort. We ain’t stupid. You locked out everyone who mis stepped and relegated them to poverty so that lazy bastard you raised on microwaved popcorn and video games could have a chance. These entitled little shits couldn’t last a day in our world. They’d be back on your couch in the basement complaining about the tv reception.

The working poor in this country carry the nation. You ain’t building high end homes or businesses without us working to save you dollars as sub contractors or under the table labor. Those taxes you talk about paying that make you so special are made because low wages enable you to keep the flow of money rolling.

It’s cool though. Trading piss for food ain’t a bad deal. Hands dirty from work cleanse the mind, while hands dirty from deeds poison it. Understanding this ignorance from the ground up gives us experience. We nod and smile as you further your dysfunctional ideas as something progressive or conservative. The view don’t change from down here though, all we see is asses.

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Garden of Tomorrow

Don’t mistake me for the workin man
I ain’t down with wages and death
I’m not following another mans plan

You fell for the dream
Cause they caught you sleeping
And you bought the farm

Now you’re afraid to awaken
To the reality
Of what has been taken

You’ve swallowed a lie
And refused to hack
It was easier to follow
Another mans track

Now you look sideways at your prodigy
Wonder when they’ll realize
You’re a sleep walker
Traveling as a man in disguise

All those dollars you paid to a lie
You saw a doctor, who saw a dollar
Now you’re sick a tired
In a medicinal stupor

You forfeited youth
For a lie
And your dignity
Was your high

You’re the American way
Just short of truth
And captured by the day

I know you had that moment,
That moment where the reality superseded the dream
And you looked around at all you’ve collected that’s turned gray and sags with the weight of years and ignorance. Then you were vested in futility.

Suddenly the guy who has nothing redefined wealth and you’re bankrupt by all accounts. You had no sense of what is more,
or less sad.

I see you, I hear you shuffling
Down creaky hallways mumbling
About “back in the day”
When you were weak stumbling
Along behind another mans way

You never stood tall
Bowing down to fools
And applauding other men
Using you as a tool

I created dollars with my mind
Making sense with my hands
Looking after mine in kind
Sharing dirt and sifting sand

We grew strong folks like weeds
That don’t swallow lies for dollars
Or sell their legacy for another man’s pockets full of influence

Revolution will come one day
And all you’ve fabricated will return to green and dirt where you’ll rest
Eternally in the arms of a lie.

It will be our seed that flourishes
In the garden of tomorrow
You got too greedy, too consumed
With the rope we afforded you

Faux Oppression

Your revolution ain’t special. These virtual warriors out there sending out tweets, blurbs, and blogs about how they’re oppressed in America. Get real. There isn’t a group of folks within these borders who even knows what oppression feels like outside of being bullied in a classroom or cyber space.
It’ disingenuous to use race, gender, ethnicity or culture as a victim status in America. There is one exception and you don’t hear from them, that’s the working poor. They don’t scream on social media or protest in popular cities. They live life at a shade grayer than the rest of the country.

These are the folks you call when the dealer wants to much for your oil change. These folks cut your grass when the chain landscapers are cutting into your budget. These folks repair those hot water heaters in your 200 square foot garages for the same price the contractor charges for an estimate. These aren’t the folks sittin around waiting for a go fund me miracle or SSI.

The underground economy is alive and well. It’s maintained with debts and promises of nothing more than a dollar or work. Taxes are not collected, just debts. Fees aren’t levied, but it costs to do business everywhere. Penalties are harsh. Failure to pay debts means I loss of something valuable, even life in some cases.

These folks live on their wits. Nice things have a price no matter where there bought or bartered. The working poor in this country don’t go to the hospital or doctor. The kitchen is the ER. These folks don’t have pain insurance to support a pain med addiction. They use alcohol for minor pains, WD 40 for arthritis, and barter with neighbors for left over meds. They don’t care about Obamacare, Americare, or any care. Their only care is feeding the family and gas to work.

Folks who work and hustle to stay afloat don’t care about schools and funding. They send their kids to school as a place of business. Their kids ain’t there to be politicized or philosophized. They send their kids to school to work. They remind their kids that school is a luxury and not a place to be weak or spoiled. It’s not a fashion show or social experiment, it’s the kids job and they better take it seriously.

You don’t hear from these folks and they like it that way. You see poor working folks are free. They take hard times silently and good times graciously. They take good times in stride and count blessings or luck depending on how tough life’s been. We don’t want your interference in our health, our finances, or our kids life. We just want to be left alone.

So the next time you have an election, raise taxes, or try to usurp the countries health leave us be. We’ll be fine using home remedies, selling something of value, and whipping our kids ass when they forget who they are at school.

You can have this faux democratic system that creates dollars and privilege for some. You can have your checks and programs for those folks who live on a hand out. Our county has walls; it’s right where the pavement ends and the dirt begins. You can step in the yard with a warning, but the porch ain’t for folks like you. You’re not welcome within our borders.

We’re steadily looming for a way to be American outside of your corrupt system. We by houses lease to own. We maintain our vehicles ourselves or barter work with a mechanic friend. We recycle things to improve our lives, not because it’s cool. We repurpose things because everything and everyone can have a purpose, we dislike throwing things or folks away. Most importantly we see right through what our government has become, and instead of making excuses because we could benefit from the government; we learnt the lesson that some things just serve no purpose other than serving itself.

Riding Coattails!!!

I keep up with my alma matter, The US Army, on a couple soldier sites on Facebook. It’s cool to see some of the characteristics and traditions have withstood the test of time. It’s also frustrating to see the impact the culture wars have had on the military. I was blessed to be led by the leadership during my career, mostly Viet Nam Era career soldiers.

When I was a Drill Instructor we had a problem with vendors and DI’s. It might be the pizza guy who got to deliver hundreds of pizza and passed on the bread for using his service. Could have been the t-shirt guy who gave DI’s free hats and sweatshirts for using his services and ordering hundreds of items.

We stopped this while I was a Drill Instructor as part of a push for excellence in integrity. It was not ethical to benefit, other than emotionally, from our trainees money or loyalty. I missed the free outfits and food , but it was the right thing to do and everyone looked down on this practice.

Now I’m a veteran and I see countless, and I mean countless, number of leaders benefitting from veterans, many who don’t even exist. Then I read about how countless leaders within the Dept of the Navy went along with the “snipergate” lies because it was looking good for the unit and the service.

This “22 a day” sound bite going around got me curious. If we’re losing 22 veterans a day we either have a serious recruiting issue or the nature of war had changed to a degree the leadership has seriously failed. Considering the development of systems and tactics something didn’t feel right.

Veterans are a 21st century boon. There are countless folks out there benefitting from the efforts of our veterans. The number of agencies hammering the VA in an effort to privatize veteran services is astounding. These folks make up stories and misuse statistics to justify their efforts to provide services.

This brings me to “22 a day”. The average age of suicides by veterans in one sample is 60yrs old. Which would put them at the end of the Viet Nam era. The study a also divided the sample by deployed and non deployed. The majority of suicides reported were service members who weren’t deployed. I encourage you to google veteran suicide and “22 a day” also. Look at the reliable studies and inform yourself.

Suicides by veterans is an important issue. If the actual truth is that older veterans who were never deployed are the majority of the suicides then our approach and dollars need to be scrutinized so that folks can’t ride the coattails of veterans for personal gain.
Lead the way!!!