Dear GOP

I’ve heard you comment so many times that you don’t want to pay for programs that are needed by people like me. These programs are things like Food Stamps. I figure that you probably don’t get what it’s like to be poor, so I’m going to do the math in a different way.

My monthly SSI is $249.31. My monthly SSDI is $226.80. My Food Stamp amount is $108.00, and I’ve gotten that amount twice this year. I also received $88 once. This would make the total amount of financial assistance that I have gotten this year $6017.32.

John Boehner, who would probably say that I get too much from the government, makes $223,500 a year as Speaker of the House. Mitch McConnell, as the Senate Minority Leader, makes $193,400. Other douches within the party get at least $174,000 per year. About 47 percent (you can laugh) of the members of Congress are millionaires. Boehner is worth around $2 million. Michele Bachmann is worth around $3 million. Paul Ryan is worth about $8 million. Mitch McConnell is worth $17 million. They are worth those amounts and they complain about my getting $6017.32 because that’s just too much.

For the rich who don’t get how big of a difference there is between our wages, I shall explain it in terms of shopping. (I went with shoes because if I had the money and the body to wear these shoes, I would.) All of these are from one of the great shopping heavens, Barneys New York.

My yearly total is a little more than both of these:


Mitch McConnell could afford to get both pairs 2898 times.

My food stamp benefit every month is $2 less than:


Paul Ryan could afford to get 6,060 pairs of these sneakers in a month.

My SSI every month is about the price of these:


Michele Bachmann could buy 1,000 pairs of these shoes in a month.

My SSDI every month is about the price of these:


John Boehner could buy 730 pairs of these shoes in a month.

Since some of the anti-poor members of Congress probably either wear these shoes or have family members, friends, or favorite treasured lobbyists that wear these shoes, then I figure that this could give them perspective. These pretty shoes that you might see on the red carpet are things that are little more than a fantasy for people like me.

If I were explaining this to people who are on the poorer end of the spectrum, then I would use this as my argument. On cold nights, I would like to wear some fuzzy pink slippers. They cost $5 at Walmart. I considered getting them today, but decided against that because $5 now might mean that we can’t afford eggs and milk later this month. Or that might mean that we couldn’t pay a bill from a doctor that isn’t covered by our health coverage. I can’t buy shoes that the government probably assumes I can afford because I don’t know from month to month if that money that the GOP doesn’t want me to have will cover the bills.

GOP, I implore you to quit being such butt-munches on taxes. Stop making it sound like people like me are draining the system. Stop calling us leeches. Stop cutting programs for us because they cost too much. Stop whining about the taxes that you’re supposed to pay because you think it sucks to be rich and be in a high tax bracket. Trust me, your financial situations could be worse. Instead of being able to afford luxury shoes, you might be sitting in your house with cold feet on a concrete floor and know that you can’t buy a pair of slippers to keep those feet warm. Every time that you complain about your tax burden, it sickens me. It disgusts me that you think that your money is more important than the lives of the people who depend on federal assistance to survive.

It’s Christmastime, and instead of being Christlike, you’re being douches. You’re acting like the kind of people that Jesus would have stood up to. You’re being asses and it’s sick. In childhood stories, we see characters like Scrooge and the Grinch learn that their greed/envy is awful. We see their humanity become more evident. One might think that actual humans like you guys are supposed to be could be more humane than fictional characters. In this season of giving, you could try to give some level of empathy to the less fortunate. You could learn to compromise. You could admit you might be wrong on things. You could let your metaphorical heart grow three sizes larger. You could learn the true meaning of Christmas. You could be something more than what you are most days of the year.

About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.