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Libertarian yáhoos are evolution’s “newest darlings”

Note: “Libertarian yáhoos are evolution’s ‘newest darlings'” first appeared on the  Center on Social Minimalism.

 

By Dan Bodine

 

What the richest 1 % takes, along supposedly with what’s left for the “working” rest of us. But has another class of freeloaders cropped up to take even some of that away from us?                              (image by AlterNet)

Pédro (not his real name of course), one of my “regular” yáhoos in the Presidio court days, is the one who first told me this.

That pseudo-vagabonds and freeloaders who’ve been falling back into their old communities – to “live off them,” siphoning federal or state money with greed, intelligence and talents – are among the tip of evolution’s next wave. Very much apart from the true homeless, they are. Nevertheless they are…what we are…becoming.

Now science and some correlative logic may be giving this argument legs.

What may be one of the most shocking discoveries of the ages — in a recent study of the wrists of modern birds — shows that evolution can “retrace its steps,” e. g., reverse itself and go backward!

It could mean we’re going back to the wildness days of the pre-historic cave man and woman!

If so, never have libertarian extremists (aka, yáhoos) stood as tall. It … just … makes … sense! Today’s right-wing, economic extremists (aka, radical capitalists) are kissin’ cousins to my ol’ Presidio yáhoos!!! Could that be?

“Judge, there’s no sense in fighting us,” I recall the gist of Pédro’s argument one night in the early ‘90s, drinking beer at the American Legion building in Presidio. “The world’s so messed up, so crazy, going back to ‘independent’ thinking and living is the only way to defend yourself!”

Pédro was a thief, and a slick one. Think about it: The golden rule, Thou shalt not steal, is it hard and fast? Or shifty with the situation? (Hee, hee, Pédro would later argue there’s a world of difference between stealing and taking!)

What reminded me of him, really, wasn’t today’s billionaires getting their lapdog politicians ready to file Congressional bills to cut their taxes — Oh, they’re too high! Probresitos! — ’cause Republican lawmakers already have done that!  (e.g., see Billionaire’s Tower)

These people, radical capitalists with extreme new wealth, are new royal freeloaders. They complain about the government’s laxness in enforcing welfare state rules (that allow Pédros to flourish on the bottom) — but ignore laxness in financial rules that allow them to exploit at the top!

What came first, the chicken or the egg? They’re just the front side of this new emerging wave of “evolution’s darlings.” The money suppliers! The financiers!

“I can make it e-z on you, my friend! Sign here.”

No, what got me to thinking was the back side of it — welfare hackers, Pédros, who for years have come on thicker ‘n fleas! Following along in similar footsteps, looking for crevices to hide in, not tax laws but holes in welfare eligibility rules.

Pardon the pun, but there’s not a dime’s worth of difference in these people! Only where they hang out!

Our evolving choices are limited now: The filthy rich; or their followers — the in-their-mind, rich superior mothers — who’ve popped up as tow-me imitators, both of whom believe fervently they’re pointing us back to our constitutional forefathers.

It’s insane thinking! But more and more, it’s our age, dammit! And evolution is saying, it may be irreversible! (Oh, po-leeze, somebody, git me an aspirin; I’m feeling feint!) Think provincialists with knives and guns — e.g., ISIS in Iraq!

I was reminded of this new extremism by reading a post from my ol’ Country Cogitator blogging buddy yesterday from Cleburne, James E. “Jim” Myers, Jr.

Now a respected former Christian minister and well established researcher on the Bible and related heritages, Jim spent many years in the banking business, too — much of it in a San Angelo bank. He knows some good, colorful stories about politicians, high rollers, and backroom deals back in the “good old days.”

Jim’s post yesterday was on the Federal Reserve Board, that “shadow government” of too-big-to-fail, private, bank owners and investors who finance our government thru regulating the economy. (Read Jim’s secret meeting)

For those of you unaware, constant libertarian-like yelping aside, the last ones who want to see “safety net” Social Security programs disappear are some of these well-heeled bankers who are in some way financing them — who’ve now increasingly become our billionaire crybabies!

And no, admittedly, Pédro certainly is not a billionaire, to those who may know who I’m talking about here.

But he represents the back side of this new evolutionary wave — stubborn, creative, independent thinkers who’ve cropped up in the wake of America’s welfare state — who all believe their social statuses have grown because of their success in milking a system’s flaws.

For instance, Pédro – in all the years he was brought before me on misdemeanor public behavior stuff, such as disorderly conduct, etc. – always asserted himself as a military veteran of the ’70s era. Few knew, certainly not me, his sources of real income.

But my last year or so in Presidio he began flashing some money around. What’s up, people wanted to know?

An angry service station owner told me finally — one day as Pédro was leaving with several six-packs of beer tucked under his arms — that finally the Veteran’s Administration had granted a years-long disability claim to him.

And the first payout check was “mind-boggling.”

So, “free-loafing wins” was his implicit message to us. An accent to his superiority lifestyle. It stirred anger, needless to say.

“We need to all go on welfare!” this guy told me. “Turn everything over to the idiots!”

There was more. Just 2-3 days after this, I walked into another store. (This is how you keep abreast of gossip in a small town, those of you who haven’t tasted the experience yet.) Another friend stopped me in an aisle. Angry, too, you could tell by his face. Here’s the gist of the conversation.

“Ya’ll need to do sumpthin’ about (Pédro)!” he said. “Have you heard what he and some friends are doing over his house!?”

“No.”

“They’ve got that young (XYZ) woman over there, screwin’ the hell outta her! She’s mentally off; you know! Neighbors say it’s just one continuous sex orgy! Day and night! Two or three guys’ll show up; 2-3 more leave. They all bring beer! That’s what it takes. Give her a 6-pack; she’ll go to bed with ‘ya! That’s abuse, Judge! They’re taking advantage of her! It needs to be stopped!”

Probably the worst thing I hated about being a sole, small-town judge was friends used you as a complaint department. Most knew me well enough by then to know what my reply would be though.

“Then somebody needs to go to Police; put a complaint in,” I said.

Then I quickly added, “How do you know for sure? Maybe she just likes sex!

That left a blank expression on his face. And a moment of silence.

Then, from further back in the store, came a loud, “NO! She likes beer!!!

I turned around, smiled, and continued on back. What I went into the store for, I’d probably already forgotten.

Thinking back now, beneath the convoluted tension most of us no doubt feel to certain extents about our difficult times now, evolution’s wheel marking another notch is a likely suspect.

Memories and laughter no doubt will get most of us thru this. This particular era we’re personally in now.

But what will we — as humans finally — be, exactly, because of it all?

…Ah, the eternal, burning question. For most of us.

Charged thoughts of final outcome, spiritual beliefs carried down thru the ages by innumerable practices of family tradition and religious customs, all slung thru the universe like haphazard arrows shot into the darkness.

Thinking surely we’ll strike a conscientious target, somewhere, we then let it rest. It’s how we cope. Having “done something,” we sleep at night.

But even when struck, do the one-percenters and Jethros ever feel these arrows?

Ah, there is the difference.

I don’t think they do. They’re free!

One step ahead of us.

 

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Category: Border Stories

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