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Death By Handout Exclusive to STR August 29, 2006 “We
have rights, as individuals, to give as much of our own money as we
please to charity; but as members of Congress we have no right so to
appropriate a dollar of public money.”
~ statesman and patriot
Daniel Webster There
are over 50 million Americans currently receiving handouts from the
government. Today we
take an odyssey into just one aspect of the handout “rabbit hole”
and the destruction it wreaks upon recipients, not to mention those
footing the bill. The
following are true stories. I
haven’t intentionally chosen the worst-case scenarios.
These are just the three relatively young people I happen to know
who live off taxpayers via Social Security.
I’ve tried to present the facts as free from judgment as
possible. You can conclude
for yourself how they have fared through the government’s largesse and
what the odds are of the countless others on the dole faring any better.
Bags have been provided for your convenience if you should feel
yourself becoming ill. All
aboard! Modifying
Terms First
I should clarify terminology. The
word “welfare” has made an interesting transformation in our
culture, thanks to the spin doctors in After
decades of inappropriate fondling by big government, it has been
magically morphed into a loaded, unlimited carte-blanche vehicle for the
power-mad. As usual,
Welfare, with a capital “W” is disguised as a benefit.
Actually, it robs us and destroys poor and sick people’s
chances of securing “the blessings of liberty,” all the while
feathering the nests of layer upon layer of bureaucrats.
Only a politician with unlimited funding and power could conceive
of something so self-serving, destructive and dastardly as the public
assistance umbrella that we have come to understand “Welfare” to be
today. Meet
Jim Jim
is an obese 34-year-old, unemployed factory worker.
He injured his back on the job several years ago and became
addicted to painkillers. He
has collected Social Security for his disability for several years now.
He smokes pot every day and sells it to help make ends meet.
His apartment has become Party Central for young people who are
drawn to it, even though he keeps a low profile.
In all fairness, Jim does not “live large,” as they say. Disability
recipients are allowed to earn a small income without penalty, aside
from what they are given. They
are penalized if they earn “too much,” and are therefore highly
motivated to curb their incomes or lie.
How anyone can prevent themselves from earning too much to
continue to qualify as “disabled” is a paradox for which only
government insanity can create incentive.
Buckle up – this ride goes inside-out and upside-down. Through
ingenuity and self-motivation, Jim has proven his ability to provide for
himself by selling a product to people that they clearly want and will
obtain one way or another despite his injury.
If he had more motivation (hunger, for instance), it is possible
that he could earn a good living for himself without so much as bending
over, as many people do. Without
engaging an entire discussion on the futility and harm caused by the war
on drugs, I will make only this one comment.
Over one hundred people a year die in If
the powers that be knew of the nature of Jim’s side job, we all know
what would happen to him. As
always, they get you coming and going, as my Dad used to say. After
years of living this hazy existence, Jim attempted suicide.
He landed in the hospital and finally obtained the surgery
necessary to repair his disc problem, all paid for, naturally, by the
taxpayer. After recovery he
was finally informed that in order to continue receiving disability
benefits, he must attempt to look for a job.
(As I said, this ride goes inside-out and upside-down.)
Unfortunately, now times are tough in Metro Detroit and jobs are
scarce. Jim
obviously has entrepreneurial tendencies.
Without the War on Drugs, selling pot would not have been the
most lucrative line of work available to a self-starter.
Without layers of bureaucracy preventing entrepreneurs from
getting started, anything could have been possible for someone who sees
a need and decides to fill it. Without
government limits on income, Jim could very well have been motivated to
work hard enough to build a much different life for himself, one which
does not make suicide an inviting option.
Forrest
Carter seems to think that physical death is not the worst of it. “Do
not feed my people. No
matter how good your food is, when you feed them you destroy their
spirit.” (from Cry Geronimo)
No matter how good your food is?
Welfare cheese hardly qualifies as good food. Without
government “assistance,” what might Jim’s (much less the
taxpayer’s) situation be like today?
If he had known there was no safety net, he may have been more
motivated to have the surgery he needed while he still had health
benefits from his employer. After
recovery, he could have returned to his job.
If his work was of value to his employer, he may have been able
to move into a position that did not require back strain.
Or he could have obtained some other kind of work elsewhere,
provided he’d had a good employment record, the usual reward for
conscientiousness. But with
a convenient, free safety net in place, why not take some time off and
see what happens? There
are no free lunches There
are myriad problems with safety nets.
First, they are not free, not for the recipient and not for the
taxpayer. As with all
government programs, recipients become psychologically, if not
physically, dependent on the dole, exacerbating their problems.
Handouts
are not limited to poor or sick people.
Quite the contrary! They
permeate every aspect of American life, from farm subsidies to small
business loans, home mortgages, banking, automobiles, airlines,
education, health, empire building, etc.
Lobbyists make a living obtaining taxpayer funds for private use.
There is no aspect of American life unmolested by government.
We are a sick nation because of it; a nation addicted to the use
of force and every man, woman and child in the Years
ago I once filed for unemployment benefits.
One week I did not look for work and said as much when I was
asked where I had sought employment.
The nice bureaucrat informed me that I should then write down the
names of the places I should have looked for work and handed me
my check. She knew the
system and she knew it required warm bodies to keep it going.
People comin’ all up in up there ‘n tellin’ the truth,
well, that just don’t make the government wheels go ‘round! Pain
is unpleasant, but it is useful in that it can motivate a person to find
a way to improve their circumstances.
One old fellow I know, Leo, once spent a couple years of his
early work life in a manufacturing environment.
He realized he could never do it for the rest of his life and put
himself through night school to become an engineer.
He did well, also putting his six children through college. The
usefulness of pain is sacrificed when big government rushes in with
other people’s money to interfere with the normal learning process of
life and actually serves no one but government itself.
Government is able to employ far more paper-pushers than it could
if it had no “customers” for such products.
Those paper-pushers also require health benefits, vacation and
retirement packages. In
fact, the average bureaucrat’s standard of living on average has
surpassed Mr. and Mrs. Average Taxpayer by a two-to-one margin, with
far, far greater job security. Government
breeds inertia. We see it in
the faces of government employees at the DMV and post offices, we see it
in the faces of recipients waiting in lines for their handouts at
clinics and unemployment offices, and we see it in the empty eyes of
children in government-run schools.
This is why it outlaws drugs, to eliminate competition and grow
itself via the War on Drugs all at once. Meet
Ted His
is a pitiful, true story of a guy dealt a lousy hand.
At age 11, Ted became diabetic.
He had to forego the simple, careless childhood pleasure of ice
cream, candy and soda. Instead
he had to learn to test his own blood sugar and inject himself with
insulin accordingly. Ted
did well with all this back then, until his late teens when things began
to fall apart. His parents
had had a violent relationship, which ended abruptly one day when his
Dad walked out never to return. He
was 16 and felt that his Dad had not only abandoned his mother and their
home, but himself as well. This
was when his troubles really began. He
started experimenting with drinking, a worst-case scenario for a
diabetic. Family pleas fell
on deaf ears. Ted used to
say he had the flu when anyone else was simply hung-over.
I’m sure he felt much sicker than others after drinking
excessively with alcohol’s affect on blood sugar.
Ted
fell in love and married a woman to whom he seemed ill suited.
He seemed very happy for a while until their relationship turned
violent too. After a number
of turbulent years, they were divorced and Ted relinquished the lion’s
share of the assets to his ex-wife, for reasons possibly only the heart
can understand. He later
regretted it. Ted
started having bouts with depression.
During them, he would not go to work, eat properly or even take
his insulin for days at a time. Ted
kept drinking and taking aim at himself with donuts and candy.
He kept moving a treadmill from one apartment to another that had
never felt the touch of a foot, exercise of a sort, I suppose.
His health deteriorated rapidly over the next decade to the point
where he’d had two heart attacks and developed a blind spot in one eye
by the age of 35. He started
dialysis for kidney failure before 40. Ted had had so many surgeries he
now finds that he cannot sleep without Vicodin. A
year or so into dialysis, Ted started collecting disability.
Dear reader, would you imagine that getting a handout would
induce someone to take more responsibility for themselves, or less?
Normally I would have to say that the answer must be “less.”
Believe it or not, in this case the answer is a qualified
“more.” After a bit
longer on dialysis, Ted started to feel better and he returned to work
full time. Unfortunately,
that’s not the end of the story. He
also kept collecting his disability pay while working, in an attempt to
finally get ahead in life! Does
this sound implausible or unusual? Getting
ahead means different things to different people.
To you or me, it might mean having dental work done that you’ve
been putting off, paying off debt, or setting aside savings for a rainy
day. To Ted it meant new
clothes and a new hobby – blackjack.
Forget the dental work, there would be plenty of time and money
for all that after he got settled. He
had big plans for saving up a nest egg and buying a mobile home. Ted
had opted out of buying insurance to pay his medical expenses that were
not covered by Medicare (which he could have afforded.)
He eventually became the target of a lawsuit from the hospital
for those unpaid bills, which he continues to rack up on a weekly basis.
Economic times being what they are, the work soon dried up for
Ted, and so too the financial plans. Ted
also opted out of auto insurance and drove without it.
Recently, after neglecting to eat in a timely fashion, he got
dizzy behind the wheel of his car and blacked out.
He hit a parked car and wound up in the hospital for treatment.
It was paid for at taxpayer expense along with those of the 90
million or so other Medicare/Medicaid recipient’s expenses. I
always feel sad when I think about Ted, witness his accelerated physical
degeneration and sadder still to see it all in print.
He was indeed dealt a “low pair” in the game of life.
He also made many very poor choices and continues to do so, such
as donuts for breakfast. (To
be perfectly honest, I’d prefer donuts for breakfast too, but I know
better than to eat them, and I’m not diabetic.) When
confronted, Ted innocently proclaims that his life is fine.
There is no reason to consider making any changes at all.
It would be a long shot to hope for any improvement in Ted’s
health or its mounting cost to the rest of us.
Well before retirement age, he will likely need permanent
inpatient care. Are
you outraged yet? No?
Maybe this will nail it for you.
Of all the hundreds of millions of various forms of welfare
dollars paid out yearly to over 50 million recipients, regardless of
actual “need” or benefit, there are three times as many
dollars distributed among mostly white, middle class layers of
bureaucrats who manage the handout machine, all in an effort to simply
keep the machine running. It
needs recipients as grist for the mill. Meet
Susan She
is a good-hearted person who loves her children. After
a number of years of being unhappily married, she decided to divorce her
husband. Times being what
they are in Metro Detroit, even though she is a hard worker, as a
stay-at-home Mom she has struggled to find work that would pay her a
decent wage. She also
prefers to be home with her children when school is not in session, and
such employment is difficult to find, as any Mom can attest. Susan
means well towards her children, but she is a very uptight person.
She’s also quite bitter towards her ex-husband.
She told me she had married him because her biological clock had
been ticking and he had a steady job working for the postal service.
This is hardly a good way to create an atmosphere for the most
challenging undertaking as ever existed – raising children.
In the old days, my Dad would have said “You’ve made your
bed, now lay in it.” Not
that she should remain in an unhappy marriage, but that she is
responsible for the situation in which she now finds herself because it
is the result of her own choices. Government
safety nets distort reality, promote irresponsibility and create
dependency. Over
the years Susan has developed IBS - Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
(Some heartless cads might suggest the initials say it all.)
I am a strong believer in the mind-body connection.
How can stress not be a factor here, as it is shown to be in many
other psychosomatic illnesses? You
can probably guess that she eventually started collecting Social
Security for her disability, as it is the path of least resistance. Some
people would question why Susan’s livelihood should now become the
taxpayer’s problem. Most
don’t, either because they are feminists who might say that she was
married to a toad who should have become a prince when he said “I
do,” or because the sheer force of numbers of people receiving
handouts in this country is too great to fathom or fuss over one more.
Others refuse, on principle, to doubt that welfare does indeed
make life better for some people. Besides,
it’s just not nice to suggest that in choosing whom to commit to, one
should take great care and if one should choose poorly, it’s not the
forced responsibility of taxpayers to pick up the pieces. I’ve
offered Susan simple, inexpensive solutions to her stress and
bitterness. With improvement
in her IBS, she could probably find work and support herself.
She has rejected them on the basis that they require personal
responsibility for one’s own happiness.
She’d rather just blame her ex-husband and let the faceless
masses pay. Upon
examination, is free money really helping her in any arguable way?
If handouts were not an option, she would be forced to take
responsibility for her own problems.
They are not catastrophic. What
is free money teaching her children?
‘Do what you want, someone else will pick up the pieces, and
you won’t even have to say “thank you.”
Life will tailor itself to you!’
That message sentences children to a life of hard knocks. I’ve
come to believe that we create a lot of our own problems.
I also believe that if someone is willing to step in and prevent
us from experiencing the consequences of poor choices, we will never
learn from them. This is the
situation with government handouts.
I’m not suggesting no one needs help at times, I am saying what
government is doing is not only wrong, but unless the goal is
dependency, it is not working. Repeatedly,
time has shown that private charity, coupled with accountability on the
part of the recipient, is the only effective strategy in making
long-term improvements in quality of life, provided that change is what
the recipient is indeed looking for. It
reminds me of the old joke: How many psychologists does it take to
change a light bulb? The
answer is only one, but the light bulb has to want to change. Part
of me would like to grab these people by the throat and shake them until
their eyes rattle. Unfortunately,
there are just too many of them. Aren’t
we all caught with our foot in a trap?
We’re all trying to build a life for ourselves with government
stacked against us, too big to overcome, too well armed to fight and too
rabid to even risk being bitten by.
Government is like a vampire sucking the life out of the
unsuspecting, and each bite creates one more whoring zombie after
another. “We
hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal,
that they are endowed…with certain unalienable Rights, that among
these are Life, We’re
overdue. Government has
become the prying eyes of the omnipotent state, molesting us at every
turn in every way possible, leaving a trail of maimed and dead in its
wake, while it picks up a head of steam you can see from the Retta Fontana is an atheist, anarchist, baker, potter, parenting teacher and a student of forex. |