HOMELY PLANET

Why should you inheret your parents' wealth? Why should you benefit from things you can really take no credit for?

Why should your parents' poverty be a liability? Why should you have to pay for things that you can really take no credit for?

A few years ago, the GOP tried to get rid of the "death tax," or, more accurately, the estate tax. It was attempt by the ruling class to preserve wealth by legacy.

I don't know if it passed, but the idea itself is offensive. It's actually Un-American, in the purest sense.

It was an assumption among the "middle class," that when your parents die, you are entitled to a payout. But there are times when your parents owe more than the are worth; then YOU have to pay. What about that?

Inheretence is nothing more than aristocracy in disguise. It is free money given to you off your parents' accomplishments. It is a handout doled out from genetics, not accomplishments. It allows the lamest of us all to rise to the top. Just look at our current President. Surely he didn't get where he is on accomplishments alone.

Case closed.

But what if your parents are poor? What if they happen to be debtors? Should you be responsible?

This is the gig: If your parents are rich, you will benefit; If your parents are middle class, you will still benefit.

But... if your parents are poor, you must pay; for the funeral expenses, for the bills, for outstanding debt, for much of it. There is a whole "industry" at work.

90% of the folks reading this will never know. They are white and middle class and secure. They have insurance and have covered their asses.

But it exists. Really.

This is the capitalist system. The survival of the fittest and all that goes with it. You are fortunate to be born in a household that was "fit" or not so much, "unfit."

My parents were "unfit."

What does this mean? It means I must pay a load of useruous bloodsucking cunts. And I WILL pay them, if only to ease the "burden" of my blood.

But I will ALWAYS fight against capitalism. From now on, and for the rest of my life.

I hate it. I hate the system - despite the fact that my living is derived from it. I hate any system that gives wealth undeservedly and only urges on consumption. Capitalism is doomed. It's fucked, and it's about time people called it for what it is, despite the source of their paychecks.

Yes, my complaints are tiny, against the injustices of the world. But the injustices are many. Too many.

But I will fight. My anger burns white-hot. Always.

Last night I got bitterly drunk on free beer at the Rock and Roll Bar, had a stupid fight with my girlfriend, ATTACKED A BARSTOOL at The Crown while screaming about my father, slithered home, shattered my plastic fake wooden bathroom mat into hundreds of splinters, hit the wall with my numb fist, yelled at my cats, drank a whole bottle of soju alone at my desk, and foamed at the fingers against the capitalist system on the internet.

I really feel like I accomplished something wonderful last night. A real breakthrough. My pride beams like radiation from the Chernobyl reactor.