of To Be’s And Not To Be’s

August 20, 2012

So,
Meet “B”.
He’s a forty-three year old Man that stills lives with his Mother, under the auspices that SHE needs him, he can’t or won’t find work because he’s emotionally, physically disabled. He’s been to a number of rehabs and attributes those experieces to his current state.
He is a loser.
That alone, is not remarkable. We all know him in some form. Perhaps as someone we ran with in our careless days of abandon, and now serves to remind us that “there but for the Grace of God…”, or he’s a member of our own Family, a Sister or Brother and serves to test the bonds of Blood and welcome. He may simply be a poster child for a broken and careless system, the discharge, flotsam jetsam that is the inevitable, sad collateral of great societies.
It could be…but it ain’t.
“B” is a new breed of loser. A mutation of the disenfranchised, the working poor, the hobo or outstreched Skid Row hand.
“B” is driven, motivated.
He is a designer, engineer and marketeer in the field of “get”
“B” will expend as much, if not more, energy. in the pursuit of doing nothing, than it would take to actually produce or contribute.
“B” does not offer any services or manufacture any product. He does not pay any taxes but still somehow get’s a “refund”.
“B” is in the business of taking and that buisness is now under siege, threatened.
“B” is outraged. He is taking to the streets (or internet, as it were) and rallying his forces. The 1 in 3 now on some form of Government assistance, the 1 in 19 that claim some form of disability. Those afflicted with “thyroid” problems camped out on body haulers. The anxiety ridden, emotionally distraught, ADHD, excuse du jour bearing “blue plate” specials…a call to arms!!
“B” will leave his house today, not to look for work, oh no, but to rally against the evil corprate power brokers that threaten his way of life, that mean to dissasemble the fortified nest of entitlements he has worked SO hard to accumulate.
He will pull from his depleted reserves and overcome his crippling hay fever allergies to help mount a defense against this inhumane assault on his livelihood.
He will see the walls manned and in his arsenal will be the ever ready, if somewhat diluted from age and use, weapons of accusation and guilt mongering. He will lob the once affective “racist!!” and the versitile “hater!!” at the enemy but to little effect.

There is a fundamental, scientific truth about parasites that “B” has dismissed, to his peril and ultimate demise…parasites will always exhaust their host.

…and “B”… this host is wore the fuck out.

I don’t want to send you rehab again. I don’t wanna pay for you to sit in your Mommas basement, still in your boxers, playing your $400 PS3, only pausing for Meals on Wheels delivery.
I am sick of your abuse of the Handicapped placard as a means of getting a parking spot at the medical marijuana clinic and thinking that double amputee with “Army Strong” on her wheelchair was just showing off when she went and parked in the regular spaces and wheeling faster than you can run, to the other side of the lot where the GNC store was.

I’m sick of you “B”.
But…though your numbers grew alarmingly over the past four years, there is a reckoning on it’s way and you will either need to put all your resourcefulness into contributing, or revert to putting your hand back out on Skid Row.

You should already be wondering how much you’ll get for a used PS3.

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