Back on October 28, a posting on wealth redistribution appeared on this blog. There have been two follow-up postings, one on the Greek financial problem and today’s posting on our real estate and unemployment problems. These also relate to the redistribution of wealth and conclude the series.
I occasionally
hear from some of my conservative friends on the right (yes, I actually have some) who
criticize the President, implying that one of his goals is wealth redistribution,
and that is why he asks for higher taxes on the wealthy, or more politely, increased revenue from them. They make it seem
like wealth redistribution is intrinsically evil, a socialist scheme, and no more that a plot to take from
the hard-working rich and give to the undeserving and irresponsible poor,
in the manner of Robin Hood. It isn't that simple.
I have
tried to show that redistribution of the world's wealth is constantly occurring. It is a normal everyday happening.
It takes place when an employer gives an employee a paycheck in exchange for his labor. On a bigger scale, look at the wealth of the oil-rich Middle East resting in the hands of a
few ruling families there today. Do any
of us doubt that at some time in the future it will be in somebody else’s hands,
either those of the people of that area or those of someone who conquers that
area, or at least has great influence over it. That will amount to a redistribution of
wealth, with petroleum based riches ending up as someone else's wealth.
When a corporation pays its CEO a two million dollar salary, that also
is wealth redistribution, from the company's account to the CEO's
account. The Congo's natural resources once provided great wealth to Belgium when it was a Belgian colony. That wealth has been redistributed to Zaire, which is now independent. Bailing out Greece
redistributes wealth, and as I point out below, dealing with the real estate
and unemployment problems do the same thing.
Read on. Learn about the Jubilee.
*** ***
***
Hurrah, Hurrah, We bring the Jubilee,
Hurrah, Hurrah, The flag that makes you free!
And we sing this song from Atlanta to the
sea,
As we go marching through Georgia!
This song was supposedly
sung by Northern troops who marched through the South during the Civil
War. Well, the “flag that makes you
free” referred to slavery. But what
about the rest of the Jubilee they were bringing? Actually, it was a fancy way of describing the
redistribution of the wealth of the Confederacy which occurred when slavery,
the linchpin of the South’s economy, was ended.
The Old Testament biblical definition of a Jubilee defines a year when alienated property and land were restored, slaves were freed, debts were forgiven, and a general sabbatical year was observed in agriculture and it occurred regularly, every 50 years. Such economic Jubilees were practiced in such ancient civilizations as that of the Sumerians and the Assyrians. A Jubilee is more than just Old Testament lore as found starting at Leviticus 25. They really took place. Look it up!
The Old Testament biblical definition of a Jubilee defines a year when alienated property and land were restored, slaves were freed, debts were forgiven, and a general sabbatical year was observed in agriculture and it occurred regularly, every 50 years. Such economic Jubilees were practiced in such ancient civilizations as that of the Sumerians and the Assyrians. A Jubilee is more than just Old Testament lore as found starting at Leviticus 25. They really took place. Look it up!
It is not a big
jump to believe that today, a Jubilee-like restoration of alienated property and land
(foreclosures?) as well as the forgiving of debts (mortgages, student loans, “maxed”
credit cards?) might be considered wealth redistribution. And doing it every fifty years would seem to
indicate that the world’s wealth belongs to everyone, and not to those in whose
hands it happens to temporarily be, and periodic redistribution should thereby occur kicking
off a fresh start for the economy at the same time that the slate is wiped
clean for everyone, be they creditors or debtors. A believer in this kind of thinking might think of the world's wealth as sort of a "Stanley Cup" which is possessed by the National Hockey League's champion for one year, and is up for grabs again the following year. Stretch that period out to 50 years, apply it to our economy and you might get some idea of what a Jubilee is.
These themes, incidentally, are part of the
philosophy of some of the intellectuals involved in the “Occupy Wall Street“ demonstrations. They hearken not to Marxism but to the
biblical definition of a Jubilee. They’ve mixed this with a touch of anarchy
since no government would ever tolerate an economy-revising Jubilee twice each century, so they
advocate doing away with government as well.
(They advocate a "horizontal" structure to society, rather than a "vertical" structure, which means an unworkable pure democracy with no one in charge of anyone else.) With the concepts of wealth redistribution and the Jubilee in mind,
let’s look at our economy.
Quite simply, if we are to
have an economic recovery in this country, two problems will have to be
solved. One is the real estate crisis.
One is unemployment. To solve both of
them, wealth redistribution will be necessary. And the keystone of any such
wealth redistribution will be taxation.
Unemployment: The concept of a job is disappearing. Really, it has only existed here since the
Industrial Revolution. Before then,
people farmed or were apprenticed to a tradesman or craftsman to learn a trade.
Few worked for anyone else. With the
advance of technology and the availability of lower labor costs outside of our
country, it looks like unemployment is here to stay. It is not a temporary situation. To solve it,
the available work in this country will have to be divided among the available
workers. Hence, a twenty hour week will
become the rule. Perhaps age 50 will become the usual retirement age. With
robotics and other technology, this may be sufficient to produce an annually
increasing Gross Domestic Product, which our nation will need to compete
worldwide and survive. But how will
families survive with shortened work weeks, foreshortened working careers and
resultantly, less income? The only
answer is that the government will have to step in and make sure life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness are available to those who are not fully employed
because of the strategic unemployment strategy described above. To do this, taxes will have to increased for
businesses and those with relatively high incomes to support those whose opportunity
to work had been curtailed. This will
amount to wealth redistribution.
The
Real Estate Crisis: Too
many homeowners, some of them unemployed, owe more on their mortgaged homes
than the value of the homes. This causes
stagnation in the real estate market, and cripples the home construction
industry. The log jam must be broken in
order for these debtors to be able to free themselves from what may a morass
many decades deep. To do this, mortgages
must be flexibly readjusted down to the value of the mortgaged property. When this happens, the lender loses money (or
wealth) and this affects both banks and their government guarantors. I had suggested in the past that a government
bond issue to purchase these “underwater” homes might result in some relief for
the homeowner and the banks through the mechanism of auctioning off the
property by the government to new owners, who would then rent it to the existing
homeowners. No matter what action is
taken, there will have to be increased taxation to pay for it. This will amount to a massive redistribution
of wealth, with wealth flowing from individuals and businesses with high
incomes to those with nothing and to banks who would be writing off loans. Sadly, some individuals and banks are
undeserving because, in the first place, it was their greed or ignorance which got
them into the mess they are in. Nevertheless, they too must be rescued for
the sake of the economy. Such
redistribution of wealth may be necessary to save our economy.
Are
we approaching the Jubilee, that day of debt forgiveness and redistribution of
wealth that the Bible says comes every fifty years? Some scholars say that the Jubilee served to
prevent rebellion against the “haves” by the “have-nots.” Is that what the Wall Street demonstrators
are saying? Are they really singing that
old Civil War song? I doubt that they have been reading the Bible.
Jack Lippman
*** *** ***
Here's a new short story from the ever-interesting pen of Harvey Sage
MANDEMIC
By Harvey Sage (author of Tuna
Food, an e-book of short
stories, available it Amazon.Com for under $3)
Eons past, the Creator spoke the
universe into being. A planet formed
which eventually birthed life- flora and fauna. Through a process of guided
changes one life form evolved that was superior to the others. The Creator bathed it with favor, allowing it
mastery of the planet. Along with
intelligence it gave this form free will.
It had the ability to build a planetary utopia in accordance with the
Creator’s plan. Or it could obey the
destructive impulses of the Creator’s arch enemy and wax world wide
destruction.
Silently they stood there ,
shoulder to shoulder, in a huge circle.
Each faced outwardly dressed in black coats and white vests waiting
patiently for their promised time to come.
Professor Rudolph, often referred
to as Doctor Reindeer, spoke to the class in staccato tones. “Mass extinction
of the leading species has been going on for millions of years. Dinosaurs who roamed the earth for 70 million
years were wiped out by asteroids. Disease,
harsh climate and predators have done their work too. Currently the human race is the top
species. There are 7 billion of us. But we can be obliterated too. Shouldn’t we
be working together to take steps to protect ourselves. But no! Instead we develop different kinds of weapons of mass
destruction to obliterate our race. I
tell you,” he shouted, ” we’ll remove the dominance of the human race all by
ourselves. Madness, pure madness.”
He looked at his students. Most
seemed bored. One youth, sitting in the front row laughed while another
yawned. Rudolph hung his head in
despair. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”
Aboard the nuclear attack sub R-42
Captain Jax opened the encrypted message from the motherland. Their country had been insulted and territory
threatened resulting in border clashes.
War was imminent! Jax punched the
green button. A klaxon sounded signaling
action stations. The missiles were
readied and set to be launched at
pre-selected targets. Armageddon loomed. Jax sat at the master consol
awaiting final orders, steeped in thought.
Though a good and obedient soldier
he was also a religious man. He
thought “Will God be pleased if we launch the missiles that start a nuclear
war?”
Seated in a boutique restaurant on
the other side of the world Alice
looked at her friend and lover Peggy Sue.
With tear filled eyes she blurted “I just saw it on my iPad. Two groups of countries are about to go to
war. “
“Why darling?”
“Territorial disputes, religious
differences, economic difficulties- too much damn testosterone. What a mess.
Men!”
“So, that’s it for the human
race?”
“Sure looks that way. All this progress over the centuries till
now. We’re at the apex of evolution. Now
poof, all will be gone. All the efforts
of our Creator destroyed by free will idiots who use their intelligence to make
weapons of mass destruction rather than making the world a better place to live
in. Think how nice it would be if the
world were organized so that population were controlled, poverty and starvation
eliminated, education expanded, and war outlawed.”
Peggy Sue said “ I’m sure God has
a back up plan. Other types of species will be given dominion. They’ll be loving, warm hearted, cooperative
and kind. Maybe this time evolution will give God a victory.”
Alice
took her hand and pulled her close.
“Meanwhile, let’s enjoy each other darling. Time is precious.”
When Captain Jax saw the new
message he broke into a heart palpitating sweat, his hand hovering just a centimeter over the red
button. All eyes fixated upon him. The crew were a fighting bunch, hand picked
to follow orders, kill, and if needs be, die. Though good soldiers all, their
thoughts scooted back to spouses, parents, children. A centimeter- half an inch- separated all
these lives from a nuclear inferno. Jax
froze, deep in thought. Like the
legendary Atlas of old he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He
closed his eyes and prayed.
The frigid Antartic air blew
fiercely. The circle was strong and unbroken.
Shoulder to shoulder they awaited orders from the Creator who gave them
life. Their gaze was to the encompassing
horizon, searching for brilliant flashes of light and the peal of nuclear
thunder. When and if it came it would be
their turn. Empowered by the Spirit they
would be as their name implied, Emperors, the new world leaders.
Dear reader, did you like this
story? Please respond. Thanx. Harvey
For
those of you keeping up with my "crusade" against Classical South
Florida, additional information recently came into my hands as to their
deceitfulness. A letter to the Palm Beach Post addressing this appears on Sunday, November 13, in that publication with a few very slight modifications. Here is the original text of
the letter:
I recently contacted both
the Federal Communications Commission and the Florida Board of Education
because I am concerned that these agencies, when they approved WXEL’s sale to
Classical South Florida, might have been misled, just as the Palm Beach Post appears to have been
last year. Back on December 10, 2010, a Post editorial supporting the sale of
WXEL to Classical South Florida included CSF’s assurances that “Classical South Florida
would continue to broadcast WKCP (their 24 hour Broward classical music station) on its "translator" station --
101.9 FM in West Palm Beach” and that
“the renamed WXEL would continue to
carry all the programming from National Public Radio.” I doubt that the Post made this up.
Once the sale was final, it took CSF but four months to switch its musical programming to WXEL’s more easily heard old
frequency, 90.7, and move the NPR programming to 101.9, which cannot be
received in most Palm Beach County homes. Classical South Florida either misled the Post or suddenly changed its mind about
how it would utilize 90.7 and 101.9, which is highly unlikely since they were
well aware of the deficiencies of 101.9's signal all along.
The Post editorial concluded by saying that
WXEL “can be made healthy with
better management and more resources,” apparently not suspecting
that CSF’s intent was to do so by exiling its NPR news programming to 101.9. Did CSF similarly mislead two governmental
agencies? I have asked both agencies to
“clear the air.”
Meanwhile, most of Palm Beach County has lost the opportunity to
listen to NPR’s news and information programming on radios at home because of
Classical South Florida’s actions, notwithstanding their gratuitous suggestions
that listeners purchase HD radios, listen to 101.9 on their computers or smart
phones, or tune to NPR stations in Fort Pierce or Miami.
Jacob E. Lippman
And here's another short story, this one taken from my archives. I wrote it about six years ago.
Happy Talk At The
Truck Stop
“You’re right, Lou! We’d sure be crazy to try to make Omaha by
morning in this weather, but as soon as the damn wind stops howling, we’ll be
outta here, right? Won’t we, huh?” the younger man asked, almost pleading for
an answer in the affirmative.
“When you’ve been pushing eighteen
wheelers as long as I have, son, you don’t take any chances. That damn Interstate is as slick as glass
tonight, and with the rain and those fifty mile gusts out there, I’d just
rather have another cup of coffee and watch some TV or catch forty winks in
here where it’s warm and cozy. There’ll
always be another load of beef to pick up, if not tomorrow, maybe the next day,
but if our rig jackknifes in that mess out there, we won’t be hauling meat or anything
else for that matter, for a long, long time. So sit down, have something to eat, maybe grab
a little shuteye, and wait till the weather lightens up a little.”
Lou smiled at the waitress, catching
her eye. “Betty, could you pour us some
more coffee, and I’ll have one of your special cheeseburgers with the onion
rings, please.” And turning to the other
man, “You better order something yourself, too.
They shut down the kitchen here right after Jay Leno. We may be stuck here a couple of hours more.”
The apprentice driver nodded, “Okay,
I’ll have a cheeseburger too, but hold the onions.”
“What’s the matter, Larry, you don’t
like onions rings? They make them great here.
Thick pungent slices deep fried till they’re crusty and crisp on the outside
and buttery soft on the inside. You
gotta try them.”
“Nah, I’ll skip them. Lou.”
The waitress smiled at the older truck
driver. “Lou, I think I understand where
Larry is coming from.” she said. “He’s a
young one and I bet he has a little lady waiting for him in Omaha. I know damn well my own Georgie can tell when
I’ve been munching on those onion rings for a long time afterwards. Even breath mints don’t help. The last time I ate them, he wouldn’t come
near me for a couple of days.”
Lou smiled back at Betty wistfully and
turned to his younger companion.
“Larry,” Lou inquired. “Is that why you’ve been so anxious for us to
get back on the road? I bet you have
something real nice waiting for you in Omaha.
Is Betty right? She usually has a
sixth sense about things like that.”
Larry smiled as a faint blush crossed
his face. “You got it. In fact, that’s why I was so glad they
apprenticed me to you, Lou. I knew you
hit Omaha on a beef run every week or so.
And there’s this real good looking girl I knew in high school back home who
moved there to work for some insurance company there. I call her on the phone maybe a couple of
times a month and I’m aching to see her again.”
“And you don’t want to smell from onions when
you kiss her, I bet,” interjected Betty.
They all laughed. “Larry,” Lou asked, “If this girl is so
great, how come she doesn’t have a boyfriend in Omaha? Ain’t she got something better to do than sit
around waiting for you?”
“No, you got it wrong. Of course she got boyfriends in Omaha. But we had this special thing going back in
high school; that’s why we still talk on the phone. She’s always glad to see me, no matter how
many boyfriends she got. Look, Lou, I’ll
introduce you to Mary-Ellen when we get there. You’ll see how nice she is,
pretty as a picture.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Larry,
what with her living in Omaha and you just coming from out west to work for us
three months back and you being on the road most of that time, when was the
last time you actually saw her?”
A quizzical look crossed the younger
man’s face. “I guess, when I stop to
think about it, not since high school. You
see, Mary-Ellen was a cheerleader and popular with everyone, especially the
ballplayers on the team. I can see her
now, jumping up and down in front of the stands, her hair flying in the
breeze. ‘Rah, Rah, Rushville,’ we’d all
chant!”
Betty, looking at Lou from behind the
counter, raised her eyebrows and frowned knowingly. Lou nodded back and turned to his apprentice
driver. “Hey, Larry, if I got this
straight, then you haven’t even seen this girl in a couple of years. Tell me, I know you call her, but does she
ever call you back?”
Larry didn’t answer.
“Larry, when was the last time you
even spoke to her? Last week? Last month? Last year? Huh? You wanna know what I think? I bet there isn’t even a Mary-Ellen.”
This time Larry blurted out, “Oh,
there is. You better believe there
is! You can look up her number in the
Omaha phone book.”
“Just like you did, I suppose. Larry, who do you think you’re kidding! You’re a nice kid. But get it straight, you don’t have to
pretend you’re a big man with the ladies to make it in this business. You just have to know how to get your rig to
where you’re supposed to be hauling it, on time, in one piece, without getting
any tickets or killing anyone! Making it
with the ladies don’t count!”
Betty nodded her agreement as she
refilled their coffee cups and put a plate of the greasiest, smelliest onion
rings Larry had ever seen on the counter in front of each of the two men,
winking at Larry, “Dig in fellah, these are on me. I don’t think Mary-Ellen
will mind.”
“Neither of you believe me! What do you think I am, some kind of
liar? Mary-Ellen is for real! I’m going to call her now and prove it to
you.”
“Hey guy, it’s a quarter after
twelve,” Lou interrupted. “I don’t think
any girl would appreciate a phone call at that hour from someone she hasn’t
seen for a couple of years. You don’t
have to prove anything to us, believe me!”
By that time, though, Larry had taken
out his cell phone and punched in some numbers.
And then he did it again, and a third
time, finally exclaiming, “Dammit, how far in the woods is this dump
anyway? My cell phone keeps telling me that
it’s out of range!”
“That’s funny,” Betty commented. “I
call my aunt in Omaha all the time from here on my cell. Same kind as you got there. Never any problem, either. Here, Larry, try my phone,” she added handing
him a cell phone she dug out of one of the pockets in her apron.
As Larry started to punch in the
numbers, Lou suddenly called out, “Look, I can see the moon and some stars out
the window. The storm is over. Betty, here’s some cash. It ought to cover what we ate and a bit more
for your bearing with us on a night like this.
Come on, Larry. Forget your phone
call and Mary-Ellen Whatshername for now, and let’s hit the road. We can still
be in Omaha for breakfast.”
A little bit later, as they rolled
down the Interstate, Larry turned to Lou, and in between mouthfuls of what was
left of the double order of onion rings, began, “Lou, I’m sorry about the way I
acted back at the truck stop. You were
right, you know. I really haven’t spoken
to Mary-Ellen since high school, and I didn’t even speak to her very much back then
either, but she certainly was someone I would have liked to have known better
back in those days. She was the most
popular girl in school, Miss Personality, pretty as a picture, everybody liked
her! And she really does live in Omaha now, you know! And who knows what might happen if I run into
her there. A fellah can dream, can’t he?
Can’t he, Lou, can’t he?”
“Sure it’s okay to dream, Larry. Nothing wrong with that! In fact, I’ve done my share of dreaming, too.
And I guess I was a little hard on you back at the truck stop. Forget what I said there, Larry! Okay? You
know, there’s an old song from a show from way back before you were born that went,
‘You gotta have a dream, if you don’t have a dream, how you gonna have a dream
come true?’ So I understand! Even about dreaming. I really do, and now
let’s push the pedal to the metal and haul this rig on into Omaha! Who knows? Maybe we’ll both find our Mary-Ellens
there!”
Jack
Lippman
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