By Wayne Boesiger - February 27, 2012
Hi guys. It’s been a while since I’ve written on the Blog. I’ve been pretty active on Face Book, but have been away for too long. A good friend sent me this poem that follows below. It was written in 1949, when America was wrestling with how to wean itself off of the incredibly high taxes due to World War II. Of course, there were two views to this, just like today. What it shows is that no matter what era we live in, there are some constants. One of those is debating over the actual pros and cons of large governments. At the Red State Report, we take a dim view of large government, of course. This “Ode to the Welfare State” seems to sum it up perfectly. While the language is a little dated, it is still very funny. It also strikes a chord as to how wide the gap is between those who believe that the Government should be the redistributor of wealth and the other side which believes that you need to got out and create your own destiny.
Take the time to read this and see how this poem runs through the prism of today’s Presidential Candidates, both Republican and Democrat. Make a comment or write us and let us know what you think. Have a great week.
Ode to the Welfare State
Mr. Truman’s St. Paul, Minn., pie-for-everybody speech last night reminded us that, at the tail-end of the recent session of Congress Representative Clarence J. Brown (R-Ohio) jammed into the Congressional Record the following poem describing the author as only “a prominent Democrat of the State of Georgia”:
Father, must I go to work?
No, my lucky son.
We’re living now on Easy Street
On dough from Washington.
We’ve left it up to Uncle Sam,
So, don’t get exercised.
Nobody has to give a damn-
We’ve all been subsidized.
But if Sam treats us all so well
And feeds us milk and honey,
Please, daddy, tell me what the hell
He’s going to use for money.
Don’t worry, bub, there’s not a hitch
In this here noble plan-
He simply soaks the filthy rich
And helps the common man.
But, father, won’t there come a time
When they run out of cash
And we have left them not a dime
When things will go to smash?
My faith in you is shrinking, son,
You nosy little brat;
You do too damn much thinking, son,
To be a Democrat.
This “Ode to the Welfare State” makes you think, doesn’t it?