How many times a day do we hear “reopen the economy”? And who’s saying it?
The speaker is usually either a “business-friendly” politician or one of the billionaires they all report to. The message is, in and of itself, the sort of thing that ought to make every thinking American stop, sit up and ponder how exactly we got here.
It’s okay if some old people die.
If you don’t get back to work we’re going to fire you and cancel your health insurance.
If the business is open and you don’t show up that makes you ineligible for unemployment.
Once upon a time I’d have gone on and on about what sociopaths these people are. Not today. You know it as well as I do. If you don’t, you’re the problem. You and that venereal shitwagonload of clown jerky you people worship.
The thing is, I do care about reopening the economy. I’m worried about young people, the working poor, waiters and bartenders and retail workers, the frontline, public contact types who are out of work right now. I care about my friends. I care about our families.
I worry about people whose choices are being reduced to which way would you rather die?
I’m keenly aware we live in a pathological let-them-eat-cake-ocracy where our leaders, who have more money than a moral human could spend in 100 lifetimes, think $1,200 will tide us over until whenever. And I’ve read history, which provides us with zero examples of such people surrendering their power, wealth, and privilege without coercion.
Those who come out the other side alive have a decision to make about how we should respond to the class war being waged against us.
One path involves working toward incremental reform within a rigged system. The other involves marching, civil unrest, potentially heroic sacrifice, and perhaps the occasional torch, pitchfork, and head being paraded around on a pike.
If the truth weren’t self-evident before, it is now.