MY FELLOW AMERICAN’TS

The Consumer Price Index predicted that grocery costs would increase this year by 4.25 to 4.75 percent. Grocery stores in the wild west are bouncing prices from 40 percent to over 200 percent (they are SO proud of that bacon sometimes).

Gas prices have not reduced at a rate comparable to the cost per barrel.

And for the millions who have to pay out-of-pocket, medical costs will continue to climb every mountain next year.

It’s a ponder, hons. It just makes no sense at all. If all of us – the you and me that is us – is making far far less, if anything at all in income and have far far less to spend – Why would the prices be going up and not down? Apparently a reduction in available funds to keep us alive is being forced upon us as individuals. Whyn’t ever not then are the profit expectations being reduced as well. Hmmmmm?

This ponder hit me at the recent demise of King Jong, who is not Il, but dead. His country lives in abject poverty. Many people there die from hunger. But he lived the high life, with money being no object for him. Look at the rubric there, then look at us here in ‘Merica.

No, we do not have just one dictator starving us out so he can pour truffle oil on his morning lobster. We do have a small group of people, hiding behind guarded fences in one of any of their ginormous houses who are doing the same to us, as they pour truffle oil on their morning lobster.

As I watched the retrospective of thousands of marching and waving Koreans, whose families back home were suffering as Kim Jong Il accepted the required accolades proffered upon threat of further infliction of suffering, I had to wonder….There are HOW many of them? To just the one of him. And all the good people of Korea just lay back and put up with this? Are there no Korean Jean Paul Marat’s anywhere to be found?? Perhaps they shower more than take tubs. Who knows. But seriously, hons, if you or I were to walk into a room full of drug dealers and tell them “You people there, hand me all of your money now and then go get me a whole lot more!!!!,” we would likely be first deafened by the sound of multiple artillery being cocked and aimed right before having our bodies air-conditioned for summer. So how on earth does an entire country find itself committing social suicide for one ill-behaved shrimp of a fellow to gut them like so many caught fish? How did this one little guy find the national pinky to twist an entire country to its corporal knees? The man deserves a shrine for exercising that kind of control so successfully for so long.

….Then there’s us. Half of us are now officially poor. One half of us, hons. We are poor. While food, fuel and health care prices shoot up faster than a Roman Candle on the 4th of July. And there are, what, 1% of them (individuals AND corporations) vs. 99% of us. And we just sit back and let ourselves be managed by a dishonest and corrupt media while the chewed and rotted carrot of a dead American dream is dangled in front of us. The old grey mare definitely ain’t what she used to be.

The Occupy Wall Street movement had it right according to the Nobel Prize winning economist Paul Krugman. But while they toil and fight the good fight, has anything shown any sign whatsoever of shifting direction? Are the prices going at all down? Are the jobs returning to our shores? And are the under or no taxed 1% paying a penny more in taxes?

I do not at all advocate any kind of violent anarchy. All that will do is make us poorer. And dead a lot faster. For my holiday stocking I’ve asked for some fine, sharp folks who work for the 1% with a shred of social conscience left to see fit to give us a hand. I requested more Elizabeth Warrens to run for office. And I asked Santa for the likes of you and me to find a clear way to take our country back and if not make it what it was before, at least restructure ourselves so we can afford to not starve to death. And maybe have a nice lipstick fund as well.

But hey! it’s Christmas time. Let’s not stress about it, hons! It’s so unhealthy to be negative, isn’t it? Let’s all put on our Christmas Finest, whip out that plastic and charge ourselves a Merry Little Christmas!

IB Crabby

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