Speaking to the Forgotten

[Mythsaje]

Who reaches out and talks to the rural voters in their own language? Who points at the mills, factories, and family farms that used to keep the local economy alive? Who has a history of taking on the same corporations for the sake of the little guy, and who was successful doing it?

Who's speaking to the heart of the corruption even now--pointing the fingers at the lobbyists and industrial interests with their hands in the pockets and lips to the ear of nearly every influential person in the government?

And who's telling the people ALL about it?


The rural voters have, for several years now, been dragged into voting for the Republicans on their whole God, Guns, and Gays mantra, but all that stuff doesn't feed the family anymore. It doesn't do a damned thing for one of them if someone is injured, or falls ill. Not a goddamn thing. When their jobs have dried up and blown away like an economic dust bowl, and they KNOW damn well that the owners of the companies are living just as comfortably as they ever did. If not MORE comfortably.

There's a point at which anyone can spot the fat, bloated bloodsuckers sitting at the top of their ivory towers, congratulating one another on their newest acquistion, and newest outsourcing success, even from the Heartland.

They know they've been lied to, led astray, and mocked behind closed doors. And there's a man walking among them, saying, "Yeah, you have. And aren't you tired of it?"

That goes for the rest of us too. The cocktail waitresses and the delivery drivers. The cabbies and the convenience store clerks. The fast food jockeys and the Labor Ready landscapers. Every single person who thought there'd be something decent waiting for them when they were ready.

So, where HAVE all the good jobs gone?

Riddle me that, Batman.

[TomInTib]

1. The good jobs have gone to La Grange, Texas....

So I was rolling across the belly of the Country in my really fast car.

Loaded and rocking into La Grange.

Stopped at a KFC (no kidding, really whacked).

Fat kid (employee) in the place asking the manager if he could have an eight piece box.

Manager says. "Bobby Don, you done eat up your paycheck."