by
Chris Arnade
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[...] My circles, the bankers, business people, and the politicians they supported had created a world where McDonald's was often one of the only restaurant options - and we make fun of them for going there. We pretend that the addicted take drugs because of bad character, not because it's one of the few ways they have to dull the pain of not being able to live good lives in the economy we've created for them. We tell them that their religion is foolish and that they shouldn't expect to be able to earn a living unless they leave their hometowns.
These job losses were the result of policies put in place during the preceding decades, policies that focused on boosting economic growth, profits, and efficiency, policies supported by me and others in the front row. In the name of greater economic growth, more efficiency, and higher profits, we opened our borders to a flood or cheaper products coming in and a flood of factories and jobs moving away. We empowered distant shareholders at the expense of local employees. We gave my old world, Wall Street, whatever it wanted, and what it really wanted was to lower labor costs no matter how. Mostly that meant shipping US jobs requiring muscle overseas and bringing jobs requiring college here.
For me and the others surrounding me, the job losses were accepted as the cost of progress, their numbers shrugged off because they would be offset by gains elsewhere. They were a small loss compared to the many gain that growth and our new efficiency would bring. [...]
nothing new but a useful, accessible summary
He pauses, then says, "You have to ask why it is like this. Segregation did this to Gary. When the jobs left, the whites could move, and they did. But we blacks didn't have a choice. They wouldn't let us into their new neighborhoods with the good jobs, or if they let us, we sure as hell couldn't afford it. Then to make it worse, when we looked at the nice houses they left behind, we couldn't buy them because the banks wouldn't lend us money. Between segregation and lack of jobs, Gary been hit with a hell of a punch."
Walter nods his head. "I been here seventy-eight years. Gary has been good to me. Now nobody can stay here, not if they want a future."
damn
"White collar crime is the biggest crime, but nobody gets thrown in jail for that. Nobody gets prosecuted. Not only don't they get any of that, they get a big check from the president. Barack Obama tells us he is one of us, says, 'Look at my skin; I am one of you,' but he doesn't help anybody when they down except you bankers. Nobody helps us out here. We get thrown in jail. This here is a crooked society, and they wonder why we run from police. We ain't blind. People we have in office are criminals and protect their big friends who are also criminals. [...]"
oshit
Telling members of the back row that they should solve their own problems by moving is insulting no matter who you're talking to. But it is particularly insulting to African Americans; their entire history in the United States is of forced and coerced movement. They were forced to come here as slaves, and when legally freed, they were confined to the worst land, worst jobs, worst education, in places they had no connections to. It was freedom in name only [...]
When black populations migrated north in the hopes of finding a better racial climate and better work, it was a migration driven by desperation. Their move changed many northern cities, filing them with large black populations, but the relief they hoped for was often not around [...]
A brick buyer from a construction firm, a white man in a large truck, comes to look at the finished piles. He explains, "Handmade bricks, especially historical ones like this, are in demand. They often sell for over a dollar per brick." He sells to companies specializing in reclaimed materials that advertise to those wanting "historical charm." Most of the buyers are fancy restaurants in fancy neighborhoods, places that seem so far away from Selma.
Sem joins the group [...] She spent the day working and wasn't complaining: "I am a single mother with five kids. I will do any work, and this is the only work in town."
Another worker joins her, his hands bleeding beneath a cloth wrap. He also isn't complaining, although when I ask him directly what he thinks, he smiles tight. "This is slave work, that's what it is, but the only work around. Kind of funny when you think about it, because them bricks were probably made by slaves. That is Selma for you, though: still a city of slaves."
fuck
Sam listens to this, and then adds, "[...] I seen friends, good vets who fought for this country, moved out of their Section 8 home because a refugee came. My friend lost his place to a Somali. He was injured serving this country and now he gets less than someone who just came over? [...] I get food stamps, and my line is now twice as long. I go to DHS and the Somalis are cutting in line. What was once a forty-five-minute wait is now two hours! I don't got much. I am at poverty level because I don't fuck over people. I do honest work, and this is what I get? I mean, I even stitch myself up when cut rather than go to a doctor."
this guy needs socialism so bad, fuck. most brilliant grift the ruling class ever pulled off: convincing poor white people that there is a limited amount of public services to go around