I'm Mad as Hell...Get Off My Lawn!

"Bang! Bang!"

One shot in the chest and the second shot in the head. He was dead. Even though she'd be going to jail, she felt better. She was glad she took a stand. Even though she'd, no doubt, be confined behind bars for the rest of her life, she finally felt in control of her life. This was her decision to make. As if she was an astronaut traveling to the moon and back, for the first time in her life, she felt free.

"Two bullets for the man, one giant leap for Maxine."

*** MadMadMadMaxine ***

Not quite done yet, factor in the limited opportunities that exist for poor children of color compared to the limitless, bright, blue sky opportunities given to wealthy Caucasian kids living in the suburbs. Factor in the prejudice, the unfairness, and the biasness for rich versus poor and white versus minority. If that's still not enough reason for those who were so abused as children to be mad and have a bad psychological and psychotic attitude, then factor in the rest. Factor in how we're all abused by the superrich, by the politicians, by excessive taxation, by unfair employment laws, by our employers, and by the general public at large. With everyone in this country so very angry, the worse job to have is a service job where you have to deal with people every day for minimum wage pay.

"Welcome to McDonald's. How may I serve you?"

A thing of the past, just as the equal employment opportunity laws are a sham, a shame, and a disgrace, we once had a labor board that championed the rights of workers against employers. The labor board ruled against those employers who violated the rights of the workers and who discriminated against them in unfair labor practices in the workplace. From sexual harassment to unfair terminations, the recourse we all once had is gone. With all of us at the mercy and at the whim of our employers, we have no one defending our rights.

"Are you complaining? I can fill your job before you even clean out your desk. You're fired. Get out!"

Those words echoed all over America with one person doing two jobs for less pay. With the advent of computers promising higher paying jobs that suddenly went overseas, big banks bought small banks and laid off workers in favor of ATM machines. Soon, they'll be one bank, Bank of America, one store, Wal-Mart, and one gas station, Exxon. With no one there to check your oil, check your tires, and/or wash your windshield, self-serve gas stations are now the norm. We can't even call someone without getting a machine.

*** MadMadMadMaxine ***

There is no justice for the poor only for the rich. There is no quality healthcare for the poor, only for the rich. Our legislators have the best healthcare in the world and they have it for free for life. Their doctors even make house calls. How about that? All they need serve is just one term to receive retirement pay from the federal government. With those kind of lifetime benefits agreed to behind closed door, midnight sessions, you tell me, who's the entitled ones? Not me and surely not you.

There is no quality education for the poor, only for the rich. Tell me, how many rich kids drop out of high school? How many rich kids can't afford to go to college and/or must work their way through college? Is it any wonder why so many Americans arm themselves with a handgun to take out their rage and their revenge on the innocent souls who they perceive as the guilty ones?

"I'm mad as Hell and I'm not going to take this anymore! Get off my lawn!"

The late, great, singer, songwriter, Harry Chapin said it best with the lyrics of his song, "Sniper." Written in sympathy for the Texas, serial killer, Charles Whitman, a former U. S. Marine and engineering student, who shot 49 people killing 16 on the campus of the University of Texas in on August 1, 1966. Instead of writing a sympathetic song for the victims, he was lambasted for his insensitive, heart wrenching lyrics for the shooter.

Yet, Harry Chapin wrote something that needed to be written. He sung a sad song that needed to be sung. Obviously, even though he saw the lunacy behind his lyrics, the lunacy inspired him to write them. Below, I'm paraphrasing the lyrics of his song, of course, but Harry gave us a glimpse in the mind of a killer in his song just as I'm giving you a glimpse of the anger of Americans with this story.

"Sniper," by the late, great, Harry Chapin

"I really didn't know him. He was kind of strange. Always sort of sat there, he never seemed to change.

He looked at the city where no one had known him. He looked at the sky where no one looked down. He looked at his life and what it has shown him. He looked for his shadow, it cannot be found.

He was such a moody child, very hard to touch. Even as a baby, he never smiled too much.

You bug me, she said. You're ugly, she said. Please hug me, I said. But she just sat there.

With the same flat stare that she saved for me alone when I'm home, when I'm home, take me home.

He laid out the rifles, he loaded the shotgun. He stacked up the cartridges along the wall. He knew he would need them for his conversation. If it went as he planned, then he might use them all."

*** MadMadMadMaxine ***

Once again, yet again, it's like that movie, Network, when Howard Beale, played by Peter Finch, tells people to stand up from their chairs, open their windows, stick out their heads, and yell at the world.

"I'm mad as Hell and I'm not going to take this anymore! I'm mad as Hell and I'm not going to take this anymore! I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!"

What are the rich, the superrich, and the privileged going to do when we're all mad as Hell and aren't going to take it anymore?

"It's coming. The revolution is here and the end is near."

God bless America.

THE END

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