I pay taxes so the filthy god damn rich don't have to!

Yes, our precious, needy rich should not have to pay taxes. None at all. The only people who should pay taxes are us poor suckers in the middle and lower classes, at least that is what Republicans think. No wonder I hate the fucking bastards so much.

How much do the rich pay? A lot. Yes, it's true, the rich pay a tremendous amount of taxes in this country, they really do and I don't dispute that for a second.

Except that is the wrong fucking question.

The right question we should all be asking is how much do the rich pay as a percentage of their income? Warren Buffett has famously said that he pays less as a percentage of his income than his secretary does and he says that isn't fair. And you know what, I totally agree with him.

Indeed, I would like to see this country return to the progressive tax system that we had under President Eisenhower, where the top rate was 91%. There are all kinds of great reasons to return to that tax policy and as far as I am concerned, there are NO (ZERO, NADA, ZILCH, ZIP, NONE) good reasons not to and to keep things the way they are.

But since it is late and I have to get up early in the morning, I am going to leave you with one good reason found in the quite below that we should be soaking the rich, the fucking freeloaders that they are. Need I say more?


"We can have democracy in this country, or we can have great wealth concentrated in the hands of a few, but we can't have both."
Louis D. Brandeis (Supreme Court Judge)

Stumble It!

Labor Day today

This post is going to be very short and sweet. Today is Labor Day, a day to honor labor, the workers who built this country. Remember, it was not the rich who built this country, it was labor. All the money in the world will not build a road or a dam or a bridge or a building without the workers to do the labor.

And no rich person in the world ever got rich in a vacuum. They were only able to get rich because of people doing the work, supplying the labor, and buying the stuff that made the rich rich, rich on the backs of labor. Take away labor and it will all go to hell.

Wikipedia has a good page on the establishment of Labor Day as a National holiday back in 1894 as legislation enacted by Congress and signed by President Grover Cleveland. Originally established as reconciliation with labor following the deaths of workers at the hands of the US military and US marshals during the Pullman Strike, in recent years we have used the holiday as a end of summer celebration with only passing reference to labor.

With the millions of Americans out of work and desperately wanting work while the rich are sitting on their piles of money, maybe we should remember labor once again both for the workers who built this country and for the current and future workers who will rebuild this country given half a chance. So here is to the American worker! Hooray!

Stumble It!

In Honour of Labouring Folks Everywhere

Today, we celebrate Labour Day (which, everywhere else in the world, is celebrated on May 1st, also known as Lady Day) with a little ditty from the Great Depression. No doubt it will warm the cockles of every heart that has experienced these fine characters, especially of late.


Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker

1.
I'm an autocratic figure in these democratic states,
A dandy demonstration of hereditary traits.
As the children of the baker bake the most delicious breads,
As the sons of Casanova fill the most exclusive beds,
As the Barrymores, the Roosevelts, and others I could name
Inherited the talents that perpetuate their fame,
My position in the structure of society I owe
To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.
My pappy was a gentleman, and musical to boot,
He used to play piano in a house of ill repute.
The madam was a lady, and a credit to her cult.
She enjoyed my pappy's playing, and I was the result!
So my mammy and my pappy are the ones I have to thank
That I'm Chairman of the Board of the National Silly Bank!

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

2.
In a cozy little farmhouse in a cozy little dell,
A dear old-fashioned farmer and his daughter used to dwell.
She was pretty, she was charming, she was tender, she was mild,
And her sympathy was such that she was frequently with child.
The year her hospitality attained a record high
She became the happy mother of an infant, which was I.
Whenever she was gloomy I could always make her grin
By childishly inquiring who my daddy could have been.
The hired man was favored by the girls in Mummy's set
And a trav'ling man from Scranton was an even money bet.
But such were Mammy's motives, and such was her allure,
That even Roger Babson wasn't altogether sure.
Well I took my mother's morals and I took my daddy's crust,
And I grew to be the founder of the New York Blanker's Trust.

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

3.
In a torrid penal chain gang on a dusty southern road,
My late lamented daddy had his permanent abode.
Now some were there for stealing, but my daddy's only fault
Was an overwhelming tendency for criminal ault.
His philosophy was simple and quite free of moral taint:
Seduction is for sissies, but a he-man wants his rape.
Daddy's total list of victims was embarrassingly rich,
And one of them was Mother, but he couldn't tell me which.
Well I didn't go to college, but I got me a degree.
I reckon I'm the model of a perfect S.O.B.
I'm a debit to my country but a credit to my Dad,
The most expensive senator the country ever had.
I remember Daddy's warning -- that raping is a crime,
Unless you rape the voters a million at a time.

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

4.
I'm an ordinary figure in these democratic states,
A pathetic demonstration of hereditary traits.
As the children of the cop possess the flattest kind of feet,
As the daughter of the floozie has a waggle to her seat,
My position at the bottom of society I owe
To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.
My father was a married man and, what is even more,
He was married to my mother -- a fact which I deplore.
I was born in holy wedlock, consequently by and by,
I was rooked by every bastard who had plunder in his eye.
I invested, I deposited, I voted every fall,
And I saved up every penny and the bastards took it all.
At last I've learned my lesson and I'm on the proper track:
I'm a self-appointed bastard and I'M GOING TO GET IT BACK!

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

Stumble It!

Arizona Gets Teh Big Ugly

Governor Jan Brewer of Arizona

 

 

 

 

 

It would appear the "illegal alien" hysteria that Republicans whipped up to scare all them scary brown people away from the polls is having dubious effects, at best. Raw Story tells us that the State of Arizona has already incurred costs of close to half a million dollars defending the deeply flawed legislation that is at the heart of this battle, SB 1070. 

Apparently, one of the effects has been to reveal Arizona Governor Jan Brewer's true nature. We don't often pick on people for their looks here at La Casa de Los Gatos. We much prefer picking on their character flaws. But every now and then one comes along that just leaves us flapdoodled.

I mean, lookit, this lady has money. She's not some poor slob who works two jobs fourteen hours a day to put food on the table. And she obviously spends a good bit of that money on her appearance. I mean, the dye job alone is keeping a good part of the chemical and fashion industries employed, heah!

So, what, Jan, did the plastic surgeon want to charge by the yard to get rid of those dreadful frown lines? Perhaps if you worked on your inside a bit, you know, took time to see the good and beautiful around you, those dreadful lines would fade. After all, wrinkles should, you know, convey character. And yours are not conveying anything nice about you at all.

She's not a nice person, Jan Brewer. She lies about all kinds of stuff, and most of what comes out of her mouth is hateful and false.

Looks like it's catching up with her, though. She's off her game, and as the cost of defending this ridiculous piece of legislation goes up, up, up, she's stumbling and stammering and falling apart. Couldn't happen to a more deserving person.

Stumble It!