I know it’s not considered “politically correct” to talk about this.
But I, for one, am sick of these welfare types taking my hard-earned money and spending it on whatever they please.
I mean, do they really need a membership at the Embassy Club? It doesn’t make them look so destitute to me. In fact, it looks bloody extravagant. I certainly don’t belong to the Embassy Club.
And here’s the kicker—I hear some of them don’t even pay taxes.
But just try to bring it up in polite company and watch people change the subject. Not to get all cliché, but I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore. And before some of you launch into your “walk a mile in their Louis Vuittons” routine don’t pretend it doesn’t drive you crazy, too.
Every so often we hear about yet another recipient of government handouts. We might even hear how much they’ve managed to squeeze out of us with their tearjerker stories and “we’ve run into a rough patch this quarter.” Then we see some of them dressed up, posing for photos at a Manning Centre fundraiser. And they can always count on their bleeding heart friends at the National Post or SunMedia to advocate on their behalf for even more generous treatment.
I’m tired of hearing how some of them, already familiar with government money, refuse to take precautions and instead strike up random short-term “business relationships” to wantonly create subsidiary after subsidiary, knowing the public will keep paying the tab.
It’s like politicians don’t even care that they’re creating a culture of dependency; a whole dynasty of welfare kings (and maybe a couple of queens—because hello! glass ceiling!).
Before you know it we’ll have “fourth generation” welfare types who think it’s okay to sit around watching their flat screen TVs instead of making good with our money. And you just know they'll be PVRing that reality TV show with...whatshisname…that really loud bombastic guy who never wants to share? Kevin O’Leary? Dragons’ Den or whatever? (Since you know they’re not exactly trustworthy I wouldn’t put it past them to call it “research” and try to write it off.)
What’s worse, after all our help they don’t even seem appreciative; they still flaunt their car service, or queue-jump to get their lattes faster. It's like it doesn't even occur to them that when you’re living on our dime, fewer—what are they called?—entitlements may be in order.
At the very least, they should agree to weekly check-ins to account for their activities while living high on the public handout hog. Maybe we should throw in a blood test, or mandatory GPS anklet—after all, when you’re dealing with people like these, you can’t be too careful.
And if they’re not going to even bother doing something worthwhile or practical with that money—like getting their houses in order, doing research about how to develop their assets, investing in equipment and training—shouldn’t there be some way to make them pay it back? I heard that in the U.S. they’re jailing moms who district-hop to get their kids into better public schools (I mean, unless their kids are on the football team, of course) for “stealing” a public education—can’t we do something like that?
At a minimum shouldn't these deadbeats should be doing community service to prove they deserve our assistance—supporting local businesses instead of stashing our money in offshore accounts? Or helping develop and maintain social and physical infrastructure, since they use those things the same way other honest taxpayers do?
But after years of tax breaks, credits, and bailouts, it’s clear we’re dealing with a dangerous level of corporate entitlement that’s resulted in a pervasive culture of irresponsibility. The repeated promises of “giving back”—research and investment, job creation—have simply not materialized. They’ve just taken the money while taking us all for a ride.
You and I know Canada’s corporate welfare experiment has proven itself a dismal failure.
There. I said it.
SunMedia can cry me a river. It’s time for some tough (corporate) love.
This post originally appeared on rabble.ca for April Fools' Day.