“The Art of Being Cheerfully Swindled: How the Poor Keep Voting to Make the Rich Richer”

My dear fellow Americans, particularly those who have perfected the fine art of shooting themselves in both feet and then demanding the government take away their crutches—allow me a moment of your time. I come not to praise your voting habits, but to marvel at them, for there is a certain genius in a man who sees a thief coming, hands him his wallet, and then thanks him for the privilege.

You see, there exists in this great nation a most astonishing phenomenon: the poor, the working class, the paycheck-to-paycheck strugglers, continue—against all reason, logic, and self-preservation—to cast their sacred votes for the very men who ensure their continued misery. It is, I daresay, the most selfless act of charity I have ever seen: the downtrodden making personal sacrifices to keep the wealthy well-fed, well-housed, and well-insulated from the consequences of their greed.

Now, let us not be unkind. We must acknowledge the brilliance of the strategy employed against them. For decades, the ruling class—polished, well-groomed, and skilled in the art of deception—has perfected the craft of convincing the common man that his suffering is entirely of his own making. If he is poor, it is because he lacks the “grit” to be rich. If he is hungry, it is because he has not mastered the art of bootstrapping, a skill that, curiously, only seems to work for those born in golden cribs. If his wages stagnate while the cost of living soars, it is not because of unchecked corporate greed, but because of an immigrant, a schoolteacher, or—heaven help us!—a library book.

And so, with each election, the cycle repeats. The gaslight flickers, the speeches roll, and like a well-trained circus act, the downtrodden clap, cheer, and vote against their own interests, believing the same empty promises that have left them worse off every single time. They are told that tax cuts for the rich will one day bless them with wealth, much like a pig might be told that Christmas dinner is for his benefit.

One cannot help but admire the sheer gall of it all. A politician stands before a crowd of struggling Americans, tells them their real enemy is their neighbor making $30,000 a year, and the crowd erupts in applause. A man who owns five mansions, six yachts, and a private jet declares that billionaires are “job creators” while teachers and nurses are the “entitled ones,” and the audience nods along, furious at the schoolteacher who dares ask for enough money to keep the lights on.

And let us speak for a moment of the grand spectacle known as “freedom.” It is a curious kind of freedom, one that allows you to work yourself into the grave while the man you voted for buys his third vacation home. It is the freedom to refuse affordable healthcare so that a pharmaceutical CEO might afford another diamond-encrusted watch. It is the freedom to be poor, sick, and struggling, but proud—so very proud—that you stuck it to the “elites” by electing another millionaire who wouldn’t toss you a crust of bread if you were starving at his doorstep.

And so I say, my dear friends, if you must insist on being hoodwinked, do so with a little flair! Why merely vote against your interests when you can do it with enthusiasm? Why settle for small betrayals when you can support those who will strip you down to the bone? If you are going to march into poverty, at least do so with a rousing cheer for the men who sent you there.

Or, just perhaps, you might try something radical. Something unthinkable. Something that has never before been attempted in this grand experiment of democracy: thinking before you vote.

Imagine, if you will, a world in which you demand more than empty slogans and patriotic hymns from the men who seek your support. Imagine asking what, precisely, they have done for you—not for their donors, not for their stock portfolios, not for their next book deal, but for you.

Wouldn’t that be a spectacle worth seeing?

Julie Bolejack,MBA