Democrats Hire Broadway to Fight Terrorism With Jazz Hands

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To the wealthy life is a game, a joke, a bit of fun, a romp through the forest, a frolic in the roses. Lost a relationship? No biggie, buy a new one. Suffered a serious setback career wise? No problem, just call up your rich friends and they’ll help you out. Failed at achieving your dreams? Go to sleep and dream up another one. That is the mindset of American aristocracy. Just get over it. Move on. Forget about it. Try harder. Do better. Be kinder. Harder, better, faster, stronger! These empty, childish phrases spill from the mouths of wealthy people like excrement from a person with explosive diarrhea who lives on nothing but bean and cheese burritos, and their sage words are likewise flushed down the toilet into a dark and abandoned sewer filled with disease. The advice of the wealthy is the real pandemic, and their uninspired, insincere drivel has infected America. The wealthy do not know how to give advice, and so they are a cancer on the world of ideas, a malignant tumor destined to destroy everything it touches slowly and painfully. “Don’t take life too seriously”, they say. But life is serious. It ends suddenly, unexpectedly and often times confusingly. Jeffery Smith died. He shot himself after the riot. No one cared. Those who commit suicide are shunned in America, even in death. And now he’s gone, and all the well-wishing in the world, all the money in the world, all the positive vibes in the world, all the can do spirit of the world, will never bring him back. But the wealthy do not understand this. They believe that they will be able to pay off the grim reaper. But that is simply not an option. Death will find them, just as it will find us. If you fail to realize how serious life really is then you are well on your way to your appointment with death, perhaps even running a little early. But you cannot argue with the wealthy; those with money and privilege are set in their ways, and they change for no one. Perhaps the best illustration of this in literature can be found right in that bible you never read, but always preach. “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:18–25). I’ve never tried to shove a camel through a needle before, but it sure sounds pretty difficult. How about this little portion from Matthew? “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” I am not sure if I forgot the last part of that last excerpt or if I had just glossed over it before, but it sure does speak to me. Whether or not Jesus was god, you have to admit that he was brilliant with words. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will also be.” Ain’t that the truth. Personally I am poor and so my treasure is my family, and that is where my heart is. We all know where the heart of America’s leaders are, and it ain’t got nothing to do with family. The heart of America’s leaders is stored in a bank account, on the stock market, at a fortune 500 company, in a viral video on Tik Tok, on a stage full of pretense. So I was not surprised to see that Broadway made its big debut on Congress during the commemoration of the terrorist attacks on the US Capitol on January 6th 2021. I was disgusted. I was sickened. I was disappointed, but not surprised. How disrespectful must you be to promote your favorite musical during an event that was supposed to remember people who died? Well, keep having fun America. Keep dancing in the dark. Keep dreaming. But if you are going to keep your treasure locked up around Broadway producers who get paid to destroy dreams for a living, then you have no heart.

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