I'd like to add that I can't understand why Obama supports can't see ANY of this. I can't understand why they think that those who have worked don't deserve what they have.
I will agree that we are supposed to help each other, but you HAVE to help yourself as well. What do I mean?
- If you can't work because of a boneafide physical or mental issue, then I can understand why you need the financial help you need and I have NO issue with helping you as much as I can.
- If you CAN work, but choose not to... I feel NO pity for you.
- If you work, but would rather sit on your butt and collect a pay check.... see #2.
"When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty." - Thomas Jefferson
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Once upon a time I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President.
I am a respected businessman with a factory that produces memory chips for computers and portable electronics.
There was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, but I paid it no mind.
I live in a FREE country.
There's nothing that the government can do to me if I've broken no laws.
My wealth was EARNED honestly, and an invitation to dinner with an American President is an honor.
I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and joined the President in a yellow dining room.
We sat across from each other at a table draped in white linen.
The Great Seal was embossed on the china.
Uniformed staff served our dinner.
The meal was served and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate and began nibbling it as he walked back to the kitchen...
"Sorry 'bout that," said the President. "Andrew is very hungry."
"I don't appreciate..." I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty.
It was a dinner roll.
"Of course," I concluded and reached for my glass.
Before I could, however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed the wine in a single gulp.
"And his brother, Eric, is very thirsty," said the President.
I didn't say anything.
The President is testing my compassion, I thought. I withheld my comments and decided to play along.
I don't want to seem unkind....
My plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite.
"Eric's children are also quite hungry."
With a lurch, I crashed to the floor.
My chair had been pulled out from under me.
I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was carried from the room.
"And their grandmother can't stand for long."
I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool.
Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game.
I reached for my coat to find it had been taken.
I turned to the President.
"Their grandfather doesn't like the cold."
I wanted to shout, "That was my coat!"
But again, I looked at the placid smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport.
I spread my hands helplessly and chuckled.
Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone.
I excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table.
I learned shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife and been thrown out of our home.
Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in.
The President hadn't moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face him.
"Andrew's whole family has made bad financial decisions.
They haven't planned for retirement and they need a house.
They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage.
I told them they could have your home.
They need it more than you do."
My hands were shaking.
I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor.
The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak, and drank his wine.
I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were water drops.
"By the way," he added, "I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories.
I'm firing you as head of your business.
I'll be operating the firm now for the benefit of all mankind.
There's a whole bunch of Erics and Andrews out there and they can't come to you for jobs groveling like beggars.... we need to spread YOUR wealth around...."
I looked up.
The President dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had been his creme Brule.
He drained the last drops of his wine.
As the table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
He stared at me.
I clung to the edge of the table as if it were a ledge and I were a man hanging over an abyss.
I thought of the years behind me; of the life I had lived.
The life I had earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle.
Why was I punished?
How had I allowed it to be taken?
What game had I played and lost?
I looked across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game board between us.
What I done wrong?
As if answering the unspoken thought, President Obama suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly as he folded his hands.
"You should have stopped me at the dinner roll," he said.
WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
