MDOD

YDPPIES, or young downwardly mobile professionals

“Democracy cannot exist as a permanent form of government. It can only exist until the voters discover that they can vote themselves largess (liberal gifts)
from the public treasury. From that moment on, the majority always votes for the candidates promising the most benefits from the public treasury, with the result that a democracy always collapses over loose fiscal policy, and is always followed by a dictatorship.”

The quote above I believe is attributed to Alexander Titler. As I venture off into the realm of the small business person, I do so with some trepidation. I know I will be attacked by the left and lazy, and a large portion of my income will be confiscated for the “greater good”. But at least I know I will go down swinging, filled with the entrepreneurial spirit that once made this country great. I will be able to chose with whom to invest my time and labor, something I have no control over now. And I will be able to tell my children that there once was a time in this country when we valued professionals, entrepreneurs and industrial giants, and people pulled up their own bootstraps. We didn’t envy or deride the wealthy, we admired their savvy and determination, assuming they didn’t just become that way by marrying ketchup heirs (then thinking they know how to better spend our money than we do). I’ll tell them how many of my jobs on the road to my career were created by the poor and lazy (zero). I’ll tell them how I worked since I was 15 and paid my way through college and med school to become one of the 5%-10% that pays over 70% of the tax burden in this country, in an attempt to better myself and family and provide a service to others. We weren’t always a people consumed with class warfare and envy, and someone from a poor background could become anything they set their mind to, and didn’t expect a check in the mail. Heck, you could even become a doctor. (A voice telling the American public this sure would be refreshing, but unlikely to be heard).

I’m sure I will be telling this to my son as we sit on the front porch of his government issued apartment, next to our mandatory copy of the Communist Manifesto, waiting for his government issued salary check to arrive. And we better have a smile on our faces as the savior Big Brother government brings it by, lest we be thought of as rebels.

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