How the Dark Side of Supply Side Brought on the Zombie Apocalypse

Read Time:2 Minute, 55 Second

by Jeffrey Berger

The giant sucking sound came without warning, the sound of 1,400 jobs moving from Indianapolis, Indiana, to Mexico. “We recognize the impact on employees, their families, and the community,” spoke the president of Carrier Corporation, the HVAC Division of United Technologies.

“Yeah, [expletive deleted],” a voice shot across the room. For furloughed employees, the announcement came as a slap in the face. At United Technologies, three consecutive years of record-breaking earnings did not save a single job. The giant sucking sound hardly made the evening news; but we hear it everyday in communities across America.

Monday, Monday, so good to me;
Monday morning, it was all I hoped it would be.

With idle time to spare, my jobless neighbors have turned weekend time into family time and now mow their lawns on Monday. Why Monday but no other day of the week, you ask? Sometimes it just turns out that way.

Good lawnmowers make good neighbors. Witness this exchange of greetings when neighbor meets neighbor at the mailbox:

Good morning, Mr. Briggs. How are you today?
Mighty fine, Mr. Stratton. And yourself?

Job or no job, cutting grass keeps up appearances and keeps peace in the neighborhood. Until something strange happened one day …

Exactly how it happened or when, no one knows for sure. It came without warning when corporations and SuperPACs became real people with full rights of personhood. Suddenly, Lampposts, Manholes, and Utility Poles sprang to life with special powers and privileges. Little did we know what was to be.

In short order, Manholes lobbied for tax cuts. As job creators, they claimed, tax cuts for Manholes would mean more jobs for everyone (although no job falling into an open manhole has ever been seen again).

Tax cuts for Manholes have also meant less revenue for our town. To cover the shortfall, Lampposts and Utility Poles told the town council to slash payroll and raise property taxes (which forced Mr. Briggs to sell his beloved home).

Years ago, when a Lamppost burned out, a service truck came to the neighborhood and replaced a bulb. This year they say: “Buy your own bulb and replace it yourself.” Last year, Lampposts traded in their service truck for a Lexus. This year, they’re driving a Rolls Royce — demanding a raise, a bonus, and another tax cut.

Zombies have turned neighbor against neighbor. Manholes in league with Utility Poles persuaded the homeowners on Magnolia to despise the homeowners on Dogwood — especially those who don’t look like, talk like, or vote like “their kind of people.” Our once tranquil community, now divided in acrimony, can no longer find common ground or unite in common cause.

Legal but non-living persons now rule the neighborhood. They failed to create a single job but reserve the right to shine flashlights in our bedroom windows. You can hardly tell the difference between a Lamppost versus a real citizen anymore.

Meanwhile, weeds have grown taller than utility poles, and ’for sale’ signs litter the neighborhood. Enough, we say! Forget the Lampposts, Manholes, and Utility Poles. Forget those broken-down, trickle-down blues. How I yearn for the smell of fresh cut grass, E Pluribus Unum, and friendly neighbors exchanging friendly greetings at the mailbox again.