> What if people didn’t have to work to survive?
So farmers don’t have to work and yet we’d still have food. Homebuilders don’t have to work and yet we still get homes. Doctors don’t have to work and we all get healthcare. Wonderful!
> the infamous one percent, whose ownership of the capital stock of this country leads to such horrific inequality.
Yeah, because they’re hoarding all that equipment. Say what you want about Bill Gates but thousands of people at Microsoft are using his buildings, his computers and his software to earn $60,000, $80,000, $100,000 a year.
Should company owners be forced to hand out industrial machinery to homeless people? We’d be about as successful as Zimbabwe.
Sadly, there are a lot of idiots who think this crap is a good idea.
“Sadly, there are a lot of idiots who think this crap is a good idea.”
Absolutely, and they’ll fall for it because it makes them feel like brilliant, intellectual geniuses.
IMHO
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, “Boys, I’m not turning
I’m headed for a land that’s far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we’ll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There’s a land that’s fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers’ trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I’m bound to go
Where there ain’t no snow
Where the rain don’t fall
The winds don’t blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There’s a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin.
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in.
There ain’t no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I’m bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
....
I’ll see you all this coming fall
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains