It is the dead of night and I am sure garbage will be strewn all over the side of my house. Wrappers, rotting food stuff, chicken bones and other things of the smelly kind will be sitting there, waiting for me with my latex gloves and black garbage bag.
This has been a persistent problem for the last couple of months. Having a weak stomach and an aversion to trash I resolved to find the culprit.
I’ve embellished a bit on my description. Garbage isn’t dumped as much as it is thrown all over the place like buckshot. It originates from the over turned garbage cans and moves onward from there. The garbage bags are ripped to shreds, the food having bite marks of the feline variety. The culprit of this heinous crime is obvious.
My next door neighbor is a stereotype. Widowed, ancient, hunched over, voice like a crone, temperament like an angel and avid collector of cats. Siamese, Persian or fat alley cat; name a breed of cat and she has it.
Cats are not territorial creatures. They explore, get into places they don’t belong, go back home to the litter box, laze around for a little while and the cycle continues. My neighbor’s cats are no exception to the rule. I find them in my back yard all time exploring and climbing fences. Until recently, they never caused trouble or got into the garbage.
On an unpleasant Sunday afternoon, after picking up the garbage on the ground and expelling the bagel I had that morning, I decided to talk to my tenants to see if they knew what was going on. Maybe they held the vital clue I needed to crack this case.
My tenants are great people. Being twenty something newlyweds they pick up after themselves, are quiet at night and the nuptial arguments have yet to kick in.
I knock on the door of their apartment. After about 10 seconds Maria, the wife, opens the door.
She is a great woman; a sweetheart that knows her way around a house and a man’s heart. She stands about 5’7, average weight, luminescent dark hair and a smile that could light up the room. I hope to find a woman like her one day.
The door is opened just enough for Maria to stick out her head. She smiles and asks in a cute, mousey voice,” Hey James, something wrong?”
“I just noticed cats are getting into the garbage. You know anything about that?”, I respond in a polite manner
“Cats? I mean…I always see them around the backyard. I feed them all the time. They’re so cute!”, she says.
I give a polite wave,” Well…alright. Thanks. I’ll see you around.”
I turn my back and walk away as she closes the door. I walk back into my house to take a shower, ruminating on the answer Maria had given me.
She was feeding the cats. The cats, being used to always getting food from this house, must have taken for granted it would always be there. At night there is no food for them here. Being free loaders used to handouts, they smell it in the garbage cans. They take the food from the garbage cans without being permitted to do so, causing a mess in their wake.
During my reverie, I realized that this was the perfect allegory for the welfare state. The cats were given handouts and trashed the place when the handouts were not there. In the welfare system, people who do not contribute one iota to the world are given free money, for them at least, and when the gravy train runs out they act like children having temper tantrums; but their tantrums lead to rioting and looting in the streets. The cats are given food that does not belong to them. The food, with Maria’s husband being the one that makes money, was redistributed from the pantry in their apartment and given to the cats. The money from welfare is taken from the taxpayers and given to free loaders in the ghetto.
The main difference is people are not animals. We let cats lay around the house and live off the fat of the land because we care for them like they are our own babies. They never have to make money because they are unproductive in the production of capital and always will be; that’s why we love them. They are a reflection of what we would want to be but cannot be for it would fly in the face of human nature. Unlike cats, welfare queens are the antithesis of human nature. They live like dogs and cats. They require the master of all, government, to feed them and make sure they get bathed. They have Cadillac’s, air conditioning in the summer, heat in the winter, DVD players, X-Box’s, an endless supply of cheese blocks and premium cable. All at the expense of the taxpayers while bankrupting our country and leaving us destitute on the land our forefathers fought to create. Unlike cats, which we voluntarily give sustenance and shelter, welfare recipients are drains on the public treasury, put there involuntarily while acting like animals. Not human beings.
I am one of the few people calling for the complete elimination of all welfare programs by federal, state and local governments. I am one of the few with intestinal fortitude to stand athwart this evil freight train coming our way and saying no. Even so-called conservatives are for welfare and social justice. All they believe in is slightly tinkering with the broken system while the problem is systematic and the whole system must be demolished. Reform is never possible in government. When government has a problem, the whole system it creates should be torn down and re-built if totally necessary. That is the main problem most conservatives overlook. You cannot run a government like a business or any other sane structure. It is a totally insane structure with no competitors and no ways to opt out of its control. You can run a government with a light touch and do whatever you have to do to keep the cogs from turning. But you cannot make it ‘efficient’ because it always runs at its top efficiency. It is efficient at force and extortion and little else. Welfare is propagated by the outright theft of capital from the productive sector of society into the unproductive sector. It is a succubus for vote getting politicians while giving money to parasites that have no right to the fruits of your labor. The welfare system does not need a soldering iron and WD-40 to make it work correctly. No, it needs the wrecking ball to make sure the system cannot destroy anymore productive members of society.
The moral of this scrawling? Love your pets and treat them right. But don’t feed the cat lady’s feline adventurers. And don’t feed anybody on welfare. They are already eating and living on your dime; don’t enable the parasites even further.