Homeless Story of J 12, Part 12

This is a work of fiction. The views expressed are not those of the writer.

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XII

I can't contain my anger.  Most people hide their frustration and wear a mask.  Now I openly accuse fools and immoral dogs.  My behavior is the opposite of survival, even though my sustenance is truth.

 

The top 1% controls 23% of the total wealth, a percentage on the rise. It indicates social disease as much as a bulging cyst.  The tactics are old, but as Donlan says, “The lesson of history is that we don’t learn the lessons of history.”

It's just Occam's Razor:

(1) A small faction of the population amasses wealth and power.  

(2) They and their minion-politicians whip up a furor in the people, until logic has no place in their puppet show of "freedom."  

That sums it up, really.  Puppets who think they are free.

It's a horrible game.  So mind-twisting.  The complicity of the bureaucracy grinds me down.  I have seen people crying in honest, moral emotion before the judge, the bureaucracy, only to be met with, "This is not a place for emotion."  

But the system's 'objectivity' is one of its greatest evils.  It is the pestle that crushes hearts and hope.

The worst part about it, what bites at my soul the most, is this: the answer is simple, the solution impossible.   

Why?  

J