Let’s be honest: you’ll never win the lottery.
On the other hand, the chances are pretty good that you’ll slave away
at some miserable job the rest of your life. That’s because you were
in all likelihood born into the wrong social class. Let’s face it —
you’re a member of the working caste.
Sorry!
As a result, you don’t have the education, upbringing, connections,
manners, appearance, and good taste to ever become one of us. In fact,
you’d probably need a book the size of the yellow pages to list all
the unfair advantages we have over you. That’s why we’re so relieved
to know that you still continue to believe all those silly fairy tales
about “justice” and “equal opportunity” in America.
Of course, in a hierarchical social system like ours, there’s never
been much room at the top to begin with. Besides, it’s already
occupied by us — and we like it up here so much that we intend to keep
it that way. But at least there’s usually someone lower in the social
hierarchy you can feel superior to and kick in the teeth once in a
while. Even a lowly dishwasher can easily find some poor slob further
down in the pecking order to sneer and spit at. So be thankful for
migrant workers, prostitutes, and homeless street people.
Always remember that if everyone like you were economically secure and
socially privileged like us, there would be no one left to fill all
those boring, dangerous, low-paid jobs in our economy. And no one to
fight our wars for us, or blindly follow orders in our totalitarian
corporate institutions. And certainly no one to meekly go to their
grave without having lived a full and creative life.
So please, keep up the good work!
You also probably don’t have the same greedy, compulsive drive to
possess wealth, power, and prestige that we have. And even though you
may sincerely want to change the way you live, you’re also afraid of
the very change you desire, thus keeping you and others like you in a
nervous state of limbo. So you go through life mechanically playing
your assigned social role, terrified what others would think should
you ever dare to “break out of the mold."
Naturally, we try to play you off against each other whenever it suits
our purposes: high-waged workers against low-waged, unionized against
non-unionized, Black against White, male against female, American
workers against Japanese against Mexican against…. We continually
push your wages down by invoking “foreign competition,” “the law of
supply and demand,” “national security,” or “the bloated federal
deficit.” We throw you on the unemployed scrap heap if you step out of
line or jeopardize our profits. And to give you an occasional break
from the monotony of our daily economic blackmail, we allow you to
participate in our stage-managed electoral shell games, better known
to you ordinary folks as “elections.” Happily, you haven’t a clue as
to what’s really happening — instead, you blame “Aliens,”
“Tree-hugging Environmentalists,” “******s,” “Jews,” Welfare Queens,”
and countless others for your troubled situation.
We’re also very pleased that many of you still embrace the “work
ethic,” even though most jobs in our economy degrade the environment,
undermine your physical and emotional health, and basically suck your
one and only life right out of you.
We obviously don’t know much about work, but we’re sure glad you do!
Of course, life could be different. Society could be intelligently
organized to meet the real needs of the general population. You and
others like you could collectively fight to free yourselves from our
domination. But you don’t know that. In fact, you can’t even imagine
that another way of life is possible. And that’s probably the
greatest, most significant achievement of our system — robbing you of
your imagination, your creativity, your ability to think and act for
yourself.
So we’d truly like to thank you from the bottom of our heartless
hearts. Your loyal sacrifice makes possible our corrupt luxury; your
work makes our system work.
Thanks so much for “knowing your place” — without even knowing it!
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But that would mean you'd have to come up out of your moms basement
