Sunday, 15 July 2012


     Specious is a perfect word for our marxist superman.   It is well for him that there are so many dolts who actually believe that it is any of their business how much money Mitt Romney has and how much money he makes.    Slugs who are so full of themselves that they could assume that (1) it is any of their business, or (2) they have the right to say that Romney has too much or too little of anything, even fillings in his teeth, are fools of the first order.
      We are at that tipping point when stupid panels of focus group, labour union dullards  can roll out pearls of wisdom like,"The rich should pay their fair share," thereby re-igniting the Progressives' Crusade for Social  Justic and Equality Forever.   It can be pointed out that the "rich" are already paying all the income tax in America, and that the "poor" essentially pay nothing.   This makes no difference to the slack-jawed, self-entitled union-thug dullard.   He/she are certain that "they" have too much and that "we" are being shortchanged.

     A million years ago, El Gringo Viejo made himself immensely unpopular in the Austin, Texas street and flower-people scene by chiming in on such coffee-house and fern-stand restaurant rolling sililoquys.   In the 1960s and 1970s there were literally scores of thousands of strangely dressed people with chronic pupildilatus who have been revealed The Truth by either the Wise Ones or The Wise One.
     We were given one gem, one time, that had to be saved and engraved some fine day on Mount Rushmore.   It was given to us by a fellow who later stabbed his roomate several times without provocation about a year after our last encounter.  He was also famous for arriving at a table and sitting down un-invited, then asking,"What're we smokin'?"
     It was my device to give him a True Blue 100 cigarette.   He would study it for 60 to 90 seconds, and then eat it, filter and all.  But most remembered is his brilliant piece of marxist-inspired bilge that caused all of us around our table to nearly require hospitalisation. "Yeah, man.  It's a bummer out there.  Everyone's tightened up, man.  No free weed is a bummer, man.   It's gonna be legalised next week, though man.  Legalised and free.  Everybody's gotta have weed man, it's like a right, man."
     But this time, he had a further Pronunciamiento Real...."You know, man.   It's a real bummer.   There's too many people who have all the money.   That's why there's no money for us sittin' around this table, right here.   'Cause too many people have all the money."

     Another conversation was carried on by a real live professor who was always quick to point out how much more intelligent he was than the rest of us.  He launched one day into the idea that Richard Nixon was paid too much.   Also, he demonstrated, the Russians are better than us because in the USSR nobody could be paid more than 10 times the amount of the lowest paid worker.   "So there, you see?   Atheism begets true morality.   All these executives and ball players, they are all fools, and they're sucking the blood out of you common workers.   It is simply unjust!"
      But one time, having tired of his same rant and his same condescending attitude (although he never tired of leaving us stuck with the table tip...and several bummed cigarettes in debt), El Gringo no tan Viejo asked quickly, "How much do you make as a professor here at UT?"
      The Wise One seemed a bit taken aback, but he could not resist the opportunity to impress five or six "working their way through school flunkies", and so he said, "Well..."
      I quickly interrupted him and declared,"Well, that's too much.   You are paid way too much."
      The professor was stunned and aghast.   "What do you mean?   How can you say that?"
     "You decide who makes too little and too much?   Where are your credentials?   Who are you to say who should make what and what is just?  I have declared myself to be an authority, and I say you make too much.  The issue is closed and you are wrong.  Wrong and overpaid."
     "Oh! I get it.   You are one of those 'free market' types.   Let the market determine, let everyone vote.   You are a fool."  he stammered.
       "Yes.  Let the seller sell and and buyer buy.  The median will be quickly reached." It was a good night for our little table of rightwingers, there the summer of 1967...just off of Guadalupe Street (aka - The Drag)...about one year after the Whitman Tower Shootings.   It was a very good  time.  And a very sad time for many, as well.
     Every day, another fool is instilled with the new knowledge that the rich must pay their fair share....every day some of the fools die....but they are replaced with new fools who discover the pyrite and call it gold.

El Gringo Viejo...