I'm Gorgeous Inside... (charlesfransis) wrote in poverty_mag,
I'm Gorgeous Inside...

Have your cake and eat it!

culled from todays Washington Post Metro section:(click for artical)
"Tax the developers. Tax the companies that are moving out here. Why should the citizens carry the burden of the tax when they're just trying to raise their families and have a good, moderate lifestyle?"

The person behind this quote, Tara K. McKenna, was refering to her families adjusted home value for fiscal year '05. Seems that she's quite upset about having to pay taxes on her new home she and her husband moved into from Arlington.

A citizen has every right to complain about how much taxes they pay on their personal property. I'll agree with most anyone, that taxing the populace is a unfortunate nesessity concerning the welfare and abilities of the state. However, what should be further mentioned, is that her family moved into a housing development in Lansdowne, just inside the Ashburn area. This womans attitude underscores for me the following:

  • The sense of entitlement that the baby boomer babies (read: former early Gen X) carry with them, especially when it comes to financial matters.

  • Lack of personal accountability "Let (someone else) pay the tax." It reminds me of an episode of the Simpsons in which a bear comes into town, and the citizens panic. As a result, there is an established "Bear Patrol", complete with Stealth Bombers. Citizens are outraged at the five cent tax they pay for their own DEMANDED peace of mind. "Let bears pay the bear tax! I pay the Homer tax!" Incidently,the bears are ultimately blamed on immigrants.
    Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

  • ¿Amenece, lo veis?, a la luz de la aurora? What do these people think happens to their tax money? It doesn't sit in someones pocket. It does not buy someone else lattes in the morning. It goes to pay for public services, supposedly. When people move into a newly developed area, which is based around a LUXURY RESORT of all things, it is not a unreasonable assumption that property values, and taxes on said property are going to hit the glass ceiling. To think that you can buy a massive house in a new, burgeoning community and not pay for it through the nose via taxes, based simply on the Pollyannic assumption that said community will welcome you with open arms, hip stores and groundbreaking schools is downright stupid. Add to that the resentment that is almost guarenteed to arise from people who have lived there for most of their lives, it resembles something of an invasion, or at least a hostile corporate takeover of land. Any wonder why I deliberately spit on anything larger than a Ford Explorer when I'm driving down the road? It only I could hone my cigarette flicking skills to get high enough to land it in the driver window. Not that I have anything against a large automobile, I ♥ my old F150, but when it takes a Brontosauras to get you from your driveway to the kids private school and your Yogaerobics class, something is seriously wrong.

  • Now, for the token class warrior moment: In the accompanying photo with the WP artical, Tara and her husband are standing in the background, while their three spawn, er, children run amok through their nearly million dollar yard. The grass is bright green, everyone is smiling, and the young boys (they look about six or seven) are wearing loafers. I am twenty-eight years old, and I have never, ever,in my life worn a loafer. Not to a formal event, not as social commentary, never once. It is, perhaps, the most impractical shoe known to the existance of mankind, and proof that Darwin failed to take many, many factors into account into his theorizing, the largest of which being human beings. Perhaps I'm a tad bitter, but in my defense, I'll say this before I'm labled a pinko Commie by the G.O.P. (may they rot and burn)-painting houses as my first job at Eleven beat a whipsong into me that I'll not be likely to forget. Those immigrants, the ones who built that house and house people like Tara, the ones who are facing deportation at the hands of Big Brother Elephant, would urinate in the corner, laughing and chattering in Spanish. At the end of a long, hot summer day, you couldn't escape the smell of it through all levels of the house, especially under the microwave heat of the Northern Virginia high sun. At first I thought it was them just being dirty, but as I got older, I began to think about it from a different angle-the envy, the wrong headed nature of building a house for someone else, another family, that from the looks of them would call the police if you knocked on their front door and ask for directions.
  • .

As for me, I don't condone public urination, fiscal racism, or bitchy, irresponsiable citizenry. I just says it like I sees it.

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