For united we stand, divided we fall.
— Brotherhood of Man
With all these numbers being tossed around — the super wealthy 1 percent, the inconsequential 47 percent, the unemployed 8.2 percent, the rest of us 99 percent — you have to be some kind of math wiz to figure out what’s going on in today’s political arena.
I think I’ve got a handle on it, though, and while lying awake late Monday wondering just how long a replacement NFL referee might last if he strolled down Main Street, Green Bay, Wis., wearing his zebra shirt today, I came up with a plan that I think might solve our country’s myriad problems.
First things first: We have to take care of the 1 percent. Sure, we have long lived under the illusion that each of us matters just as much as anyone else, but it turns out we’ve only been kidding ourselves. In 21st-century America, if you’re not making in high six or seven figures, you’re pretty much part of the great unwashed put here only to serve the people who matter.
My plan starts with a nice round 2 percent of the population. These are the people who make a half-million dollars or more a year, actually have a portfolio (whatever that is) and can’t comprehend the term “stretching a dollar.” They’re the trust-fund babies, the titans of industry — actually, in modern-day America, the corporate raiders who leverage companies, drive them into bankruptcy and sell off their assets at a profit, sending workers to the unemployment line — and the lottery winners before all their “friends” hit them up.
We can set aside a nice chunk of the Northwest for this 2 percent, places like Idaho and Utah — where no self-respecting black person would live — so they wouldn’t have to strong-arm many of the undesirables out. (The extra 1 percent, incidentally, includes the servants imported to change diapers, clean house and cook for the ones who matter, plus an already existing bat-guano-crazy militia in place to protect them.)
Here, Mitt Romney would be elected president hands-down, living among what George W. Bush called “my base.”
(I, incidentally, plan to try and hook up with the service sector here and work as copyboy for the Card-Carrying Socialist Gazette. Right.)
In the area south of Romneyville, down to the Gulf Coast, west to the Pacific Coast and to include those Midwestern states that are too cold (Minnesota, Michigan, Indiana, Ohio) and too boring (Kansas, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Missouri), we could relocate the 47 percent, that vaunted group the man who would be our next president says is not worth his concern.
We’ll round this group up, force-march them into Entitlementville, and wish them well. They’ll either live off the land — stealing provisions from each other, no doubt — or perish. Barriers will be constructed around this area — or at least they will be adjacent to the land of the 2 percenters, where everything’s affordable — and armed guards with shoot-to-kill orders will be posted every few feet to make sure no riff-raff escape.
Not that it matters, but some welfare cheat can serve as president in the land of the 47 percent. He’ll be right at home.
The rest? The 51 percent left? Those are the folks who will take the Eastern Seaboard from Maine down to Florida — throw in Kentucky, Tennessee and West Virginia, maybe ... a few football teams for the real SEC schools to beat up on. Since all of the fat cats and crooked politicians will have abandoned New York and Washington for Romneyville, those two cities will be bulldozed under as a reminder of what can happen when greed and corruption runs unchecked.
In the land of the 51 percent, the residents will pick new, qualified leaders every year, and everyone will give a fair and equitable — read that very small — portion of his or her earnings to provide public safety and public services. Any hint of corruption at a position of authority will lead to banishment to Entitlementville or to a penal colony to be established in Florida’s Everglades.
Senior citizens will be treated with respect and will earn through their work the opportunity to live their golden years in peace and comfort without having to choose between eating and taking life-saving medication.
There are no current politicians who would qualify to govern this area.
Oh, and this land the 51 percenters are settling in? I’ve got a perfect name for it. Let’s just call it the by-God United States of America.
Email Carlton Fletcher at firstname.lastname@example.org.