It's A Myth... Kinda Like "Social Security"

by Michael D. Hume, M.S.

The other day, we're driving down the road, and I see a big AWESOME boat and trailer parked out in front of a dealership. "Cool!" I say. "I'm getting that!" But Colonel Wife was all, like, no way we could afford to spend that kind of money. But I go, "Ridiculous. We'll just raise our Debt Ceiling."

I know as much about boating as the federal government knows about medicine. So, logically, it seems reasonable that I should spend money I don't have to take over something I don't know doo-dah about, especially if it puts me over my so-called "limit." Come to think of it, I don't have enough houses, either. And I don't own a single private jet.

I hear talk on the radio contraption about the Evil Republicans getting all uptight about government spending, and caterwauling about how they won't vote to raise the "debt ceiling" until the People's Democratic Party agrees to adjust spending levels from "Naked Through The Woods" back down to "Drunken Sailor." How sophomoric. Like there's really some kind of mythical debt limit that prohibits us from borrowing more money. Since when? If you increase it every time you get close to it, how can you call it a limit?

Our Fearless Leader, doing his best to reach out to the Evil Republicans by playing golf with the Speaker of the House and giving speeches, proclaimed that he was open to spending reductions (and, reportedly, he got that out with a straight face)... as long as tax cuts for "millionaires and billionaires" are ended. No more corporate jets. No more tax breaks for rich oil companies making obscene profits.

No more jobs for (or tax revenue from) people who design, build, and sell corporate jets. No more jobs for (or tax revenue from) people who do the five bazillion things necessary to bring gasoline to your car. Right on, Mr. President! Stop the madness! It's not like we want people getting away with old-school capers like starting a business or building wealth.

I was hitting my ninth shot on a particularly challenging hole at the local golf course the other day. My buddies suggested such a performance was going to be bad for my scorecard. But that's just because they don't know anything about how golf is played in the new era. I had already increased my par for that hole, what, five times? I figured, what's three more?

Like the president, I am highly educated. I need not be limited by such mythical constructs as "par" or "debt ceilings." I'm far too enlightened for that.

Now, as for my new boat: where do you put the gas, and where's the brake pedal?