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Maggie's FarmWe are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for. |
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Tuesday, April 1. 2008Isn't That Cute. The Snaggle-Toothed Blood Pudding Eaters Feel Sorry For UsI'm being silly, of course. The feckless Stilton scarfers are actually looking down their aquiline bluenoses at us. The Independent, which is a sort of digital newspaper for wrapping your crappy online fish and chips, says in the Headline: USA 2008 The Great Depression. They've even got the requisite breadline picture:
Woe is us, huh? Here's the accompanying text. Warning! Englishmen don't know how to pluralize things properly. You know, not like Americans, who are important people, and not doily-fetished tea-slurpers. Dismal projections by the Congressional Budget Office in Washington suggest that in the fiscal year starting in October, 28 million people in the US will be using government food stamps to buy essential groceries, the highest level since the food assistance programme was introduced in the 1960s. Yes, and after all, "telling a story" is exactly what you're attempting to do. You're just not very good at it. But I want to be kind to our friends on that miserable pile of rocks and coal across the pond. I think it's swell that they've taken time from their busy schedule of crushing each other to death against fences at soccer games, throwing up on themselves in the gutter outside pubs, and surrendering to imams to pay any attention to our festering hive of poverty and depravity here in the States. I especially like the fellow that's the centerpiece of their pieta of poverty there in the picture. Let's zoom in on him, shall we?
You see, in the thumbnail view of the picture, the noble Bob Cratchit figure is holding his poverty-numbed fingers in the universal sign for "Please sir, can I have some more porridge?" It's a shame to ruin it by showing him in closeup, fiddling with his MP3 player to get just the right mix, and shod in elaborate, new, expensive footwear and clothes. Because what we're looking at here, is indeed a line of people who are willing to stand in a line to get free stuff. You're right there, Percival. Unfortunately for you Someone at the National Review Online read the caption on the image you used, and it reads:
But your point is made, even if fraudulently. Very truthy, Cedric. People are lining up virtually, if not physically, for free food coupons, which you inartfully mention later in your article can be illegally sold to unscrupulous people for seventy cents on the dollar to buy drugs and booze and... well... I don't know, maybe MP3 players. I might mention that this isn't much of a line in a big, strapping adult country like the United States. It might impress you over there in that little dollop of dirt you live on, the remaining wreckage of your "Empire." Do you guys even get to lord it over Scotland anymore? You guys shed power and influence like dandruff, I can't keep up. But let me assure you that if that was a line to get free Hannah Montana tickets, that line would reach to New Jersey. You remember New Jersey, don't you? We beat your inbred monarch-ass-kissing fruity wig-wearing generals like a drum there in the 1700s. With guns we used to shoot squirrels with. But I digress. After all, it's not fair to compare Hannah Montana tickets to Food Stamps, as Hannah Montana is more important than food to a teenage girl. And Hannah Montana is bigger than the Gross Domestic Product of Great Britain. But then again, what isn't around here? In the article, those Malvinas-pestering cold-water-flat-loving hollow-chested Britishers refer to everybody in the picture as "disadvantaged Americans." Fair enough. I'll use their criteria: that queuing citizens trying to get free stuff from the government is a sign of an apocalyptic breakdown of a whole society. Hey, Alfies: 100% of the population of Great Britain gets in line to get their chit to see a doctor. So by your reckoning, your entire country has collapsed. And it's been collapsed since 1948, if you go by the National Health Service. You know, right after we saved you the trouble and expense of German lessons. I was always enchanted when I was a lad to read compelling news stories of daring Britishers swimming the English Channel. Shame you just end up in France, though. Nothing to do there but warm your hands over the burning cars. So I have some advice, you crumpet nibblers. Swim west from now on. You might like it here. I bet the NHS doesn't hand out MP3 players with the calendar you get to plot your wait times for your medical care. Trackbacks
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