#Fiction, #Income, #Writing

A Pleasent Fiction of Rich and Poor

“You know Marcus, a person can be rich in more than one way,” my old uncle used to spit, with that knowing little impish smile. You know what I say? Only poor fools like that sort of talk. Makes them feel like they have something too–when in fact the haves know everyone else, well, has not.

Hell, it makes me feel good…I’m rich in feeling good. But how good can you feel when you’re dirt poor? You can’t live that way and be happy. No. Fucking. Way.

They would have you believing that the poor person is happier, friendlier, and more noble than any rich person could ever be. The rich person is far too greedy to care about the greater community; he wouldn’t stop for a second to help a guy out. He wouldn’t stop to pick up a dime–it’s not worth the time they say. Well, chief, what about the statistic that 73.3% of donations1 made come from individuals that earn roughly $500,000 or more? You ever hear that one? And whatever’s left comes from the rest of us bums earning a paltry sum.

All I’m saying is, a small percentage of people even approach that bracket, yet they seem pretty damn philanthropic to me; hell, they’re living well and helping others, only making themselves feel even better. They must have happiness issues. Tax breaks for philanthropy don’t explain it.

You tell me. What do you think? Are the rich simply hoarding and making life harder for us regular, normal folk? Is it time to revolt against the rich classes?

Hell no.

What good will that do? There will always be a class of people that have what we do not. Even in that bullshit utopian, communist dream, the party is rich and extravagant, while the people generally suffer the consequences of central planning.

Look, the rich do a great job of distributing their wealth without government interference, so why press it? Because envy is on their minds.

Can’t make anyone happy.


  1. 93.4% of all statistics are made up.

Cross posted at Minor Speculum.