Reaganomics

There once was a troop of monkeys.

As is natural with monkeys, the biggest and strongest of them ruled over the others. And, as was therefore his right, he took the greatest share of the available food-- the biggest cut.

He had many fancy titles, including "Captain of Industry," "Chief Executive Officer," and "Chairman of the Board." His favorite was "Job Creator," but the other monkeys mostly called him "The Man."

Well, that's the way things were and always had been.

There came a time, though, when The Man grew fat. Very fat. Enormously fat. And the fatter he grew, the bigger the cut he demanded.

Eventually there just wasn't enough food to go around. The Man still got all he wanted. And his sons were all right. And their wives and children. But the many, many regular old monkeys grew lean and hungry.

Now you'd think that the regular old monkeys would get together and tell The Man he'd better go on a diet.

But let me tell you about his sons. You see, The Man had many sons, and he employed them shrewdly.

The Man had a son whose job it was to explain patiently to anyone who would listen that the solution-- no matter what the problem-- was an even bigger cut for The Man. It turns out that the ways to do this are many and varied for the creative individual. And the son became very good at them. He would wave around pieces of white paper covered with small black formulas that he claimed were scientific proof based on irrefutable logic. He trotted out the "Trickle Down Theory" and the "Laffer Curve". He had snappy little aphorisms like, "A rising tide lifts all boats." And even though the regular old monkeys didn't have boats, somehow most believed that one day they surely would.

The Man had a second son whose job it was to convince the regular old monkeys that if they were hungry, then there was something wrong with them: perhaps they hadn't worked hard enough; perhaps they weren't clever enough; perhaps they should pursue vocational training or learn to code; perhaps they were just envious of their betters-- that sort of thing. He was even more effective than the first son.

The Man had a third son whose job it was to advise the regular old monkeys that though they were hungry, there just wasn't a thing that could be done about it: it's just the way of the world. He carried with him some very old books that he insisted backed him up in this opinion. Perhaps he had an easier job than his older brothers, but he still pursued it with energy and enthusiasm.

The Man had a fourth son whose job it was to tell outrageous lies to selected groups of regular old monkeys about how some other group of regular old monkeys is to blame for there not being enough food around. He would tell the old monkeys it was the fault of the young monkeys, the young it was the fault of the old, males it was the fault of females, females it was the fault of males. And so on. Height, eye color, religion, nation of origin, union membership, pre-operative condition-- you name it. This son, too, was good at his job, and seemed ready and able to talk and whisper endlessly.

Finally, The Man had a fifth son whose job it was to vilify or somehow delegitimize any individual who disagreed with any of the first four sons, and to promote anyone who agreed with them. He was the best of all at his job: The Man's supporters were universally treated as Very Serious People, the adults in the room, sober realists. And they were featured on the Sunday talking heads shows. The Man's critics were mostly derided as Hippies, Libtards and Wokes, or else ignored.

Over time a lot of hungry regular old monkeys come to blame themselves, fate, or some other group of regular old monkeys for the hunger. And a surprising number of regular old monkeys believe the solution to all that hunger is-- you guessed it-- a bigger cut for The Man.

Oh, and The Man is fatter than ever.

The End

Discussion: "Reaganomics" prepares children for the corporate media's endless barrage of bought and paid for politicians and pundits with their puerile libertarian justifications for the plundering of our economy by the super-rich. When children learn that the rich always, always, always have an argument for why their share of the pie should be even bigger, those children will be less vulnerable when hearing those arguments later in life.