A Model For American Success

Walter Moxon, guest contributor

I work hard 90 hours a week to support my beautiful wife, four beautiful young boys, and a mortgage. I don’t expect no handouts, you know why? Because as an upstanding member of American society, I am driven to success by the natural high of maintaining an illusion of control over a frightening world with more questions than answers.

I am a natural-born winner, carried by the golden chariot of destiny by a subconscious need to quiet the insecure voices in my psyche that question my faith, the purpose of existence, and the nagging sense I could be wrong about anything. The three cars in my garage confirm this.

The disenfranchised are merely will-less quitters. WILL finds a way to win. I don’t care if I was born without legs, I’d still pick myself up by my bootstraps that same day. When I think I may be a failure, I remember the vitriolic hate in my heart, and my superiority complex pulls at my heartstrings like a pullstart on a lawnmower and I’m cranked and ready to run.

Whenever faced with adversity I make a target of any subgroup I can stereotype, and marginalize them with self-righteous rhetoric until they feel small and my ego re-animates. That’s MY version of coffee, fuck Folgers. Drug-addict junkie-losers need their fix just to “cope.” As a real man, all I need is the sublime release you get when you hold dominion over another human or animal life. That and my painkillers, and the occassional bottle of whiskey.

If there’s one thing I know for sure in this world it’s that my hearts in the right place and my social priorities are properly aligned. And I will fight against EVERYONE!—the weak, the meek, the tired, the poor, the wretched refuse, the homeless, the huddled masses—until I can breathe free. And on my deathbed if I know because of me just one baby born poor was denied a single free lunch, I will die smiling as I ascend to Heaven.