Dinner and Taxes

Here is some 'background' information on the ten men who went to lunch. The tenth man was wealthier than the other 9 men put together. In fact, if you change the story a little bit and so that there were 100 men going to dinner, the 100th man would be wealthier than the first 80 men combined. And to extend the story a bit...after the 100th man became embarrassed because he got the most money back although he already had more than nearly everyone else combined, he quit coming to the diner to eat his dinner. Instead, he began to eat at the country club with the 98th and 99th men, where they ate lobster tails while they complained about how much those 80 men back at the diner 'whined'. These three men in the country club, like the 80 back outside the diner who can't afford to go there anymore, are all complaining that the system isn't fair. In a democracy, we decide who is correct about fairness...each person gets one vote, not each dollar gets one vote.

The restaurant meal in your friend's analogy is like the benefits provided by the government and the meal costs are like taxes. The government provides security for the nation and protects copyrights and patents and provides infrastructure, among other things. The 100th man is glad to have police protection in each of the neighborhoods where he owns his seven houses. He is glad to have the FAA ensuring his safety as he flies around the country in his Lear jet. He is happy that the government is busy protecting the patented products that his factory produces from copycats overseas. Thus, the meals that are served at the diner are not the same. Who do your think pays the most for property insurance, the 100th man or the first 50 or so men combined?

Let's try a new analogy. Let's pretend that we are going to tax happiness rather than income or wealth. We are going to pretend that we are going to have a 'flat tax' on happiness because we agree that everyone should suffer an equal reduction in happiness in a fair world (not that everyone should be equally happy). We are going to reduce happiness by charging a monetary tax to pay for the services of government. The first 20 men are not charged any tax because they have so little money that taxing them anything would make them miserable, taking away almost all their happiness. The man who is making $50,000 we will charge a 10% tax. He is a somewhat less happy because now he must wait three years before he can buy the new Kia that he was hoping for. The man who is making $200,000 will be taxed 20%. Now he must wait three years before he can buy his new Porsche. The 100th man is making $300 million and will be taxed 80%. He is slightly less happy because now he must wait three years to buy a new private Lear jet. Some people object to this scheme because they are afraid that the rich man will not work as hard as he used to work because his hourly wage effectively fell from $72,000 an hour (assuming he works 80 hours a week like your friend suggested) to an new lower after-tax wage of only $14,500 an hour.

Dude.

Get a paying job.

No, On second thought, here’s a rant for you....

You’re a 1-bit brain with a parity error
You swine. You vulgar little maggot. You worthless bag of filth. As we say in Texas, I’ll bet you couldn’t pour p!ss out of a boot with instructions on the heel.

You are a canker. A sore that won’t go away. I would rather kiss a lawyer than be seen with you. You’re a putrescent mass, a walking vomit. You are a spineless little worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk, a cad, a weasel. Your life is a monument to torpidity. You are a stench, revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.

You are a bleating foal, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth into this world. An insensate, blinking calf, meaningful to nobody, abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling beasts who sired you and then killed themselves in recognition of what they had done. I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformity. I barf at the very thought of you.

You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers avoid you. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of this earth. And did I mention you smell? Try to edit your responses of unnecessary material before attempting to impress us with your insight. The evidence that you are a nincompoop will still be available to readers, but they will be able to access it more rapidly.
You snail-skulled little rabbit. Would that a hawk pick you up, drive its beak into your brain, and upon finding it rancid set you loose to fly briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the frothy pink shame of your ignoble blood.

May you choke on the queasy, convulsing nausea of your own trite, foolish beliefs. You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy, squalid, nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You’re a fool, an ignoramus. Monkeys look down on you. Even sheep won’t have sex with you.

You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that reality forgot. And what meaning do you expect your delusional self-important statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your tiny-fisted tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of the snake?

You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease. You are a puerile, one-handed, slack-jawed, drooling, meatslapper. On a good day you’re a half-wit. You remind me of drool.
You are deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of wallpaper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go. You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofter sod. Bugger off, pillock. You grotty wanking oik artless base-court apple-john. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit. You dankish clack-dish plonker. You gormless crook-pated tosser.

You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You cockered bum-bailey poofter. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup pratting naff. You gob-kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing you exist. I despise everything about you, and I wish you would go away.

I cannot believe how incredibly stupid you are. I mean rock-hard stupid. Dehydrated-rock-hard stupid. Stupid, so stupid it goes way beyond the stupid we know into a whole different dimension of stupid. You are trans-stupid stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid collapsed on itself so far that even the neutrons have collapsed. Stupid gotten so dense that no intellect can escape. Singularity stupid. Blazing hot mid-day sun on Mercury stupid. You emit more stupid in one second than our entire galaxy emits in a year. Quasar stupid. Your writing has to be a troll. Nothing in our universe can really be this stupid. Perhaps this is some primordial fragment from the original big bang of stupid. Some pure essence of a stupid so uncontaminated by anything else as to be beyond the laws of physics that we know. I’m sorry. I can’t go on. This is an epiphany of stupid for me.

After this, you may not hear from me again for a while. I don’t have enough strength left to deride your ignorant questions and half baked comments about unimportant trivia, or any of the rest of this drivel. Duh. The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped away most of what you wrote, because, well... it didn’t really say anything.

Your attempt at constructing a creative post was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults among a load of babbling was hardly effective... Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell, and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us “normal” people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget that there are “challenged” persons in this world who find these things more difficult. If I had known, that this was your case then I would have never read your post. It just wouldn’t have been “right”. Sort of like parking in a handicap space. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.

have a nice day... unless you’ve made other plans.

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