As I type these words I bask in a warm, happy afterglow, for I just did my taxes. Oh, happy day, my favorite day of the year! Once again, I have done my duty to the collective.
It is so good and thoughtful that our beloved leaders take the money I slave to make. I am very wasteful with my money and I know that towering geniuses such as Barbara Boxer and John McCain and Sheila Jackson Lee will spend my money more wisely than I ever could.
And yet, I find myself wondering -- why don’t I give more than just what they take from me? I am such a silly goose that I selfishly spend the money they neglect to take at the point of a gun! I must remember to write them a note urging them to take more of my money before I frivolously spend it on myself!
But I will not let my selfishness darken this wonderful day. Today I celebrate my service to the collective. Today I feel the full reality of the fact that I am a selfless shmoo who exists merely to serve others. This day of sacrifice under compulsion proves my morality and makes me feel, just barely, that I have earned the right to continue breathing and to toil another year for the state.
It is comforting to know that I exist for the state and the collective; if I existed merely for my own sake, then I would have to think for myself and be responsible for my own welfare and surely that would be too much for any man to bear. It would be too much like adulthood. This way I get to go through life in a kind of infantile existence, knowing that Big Daddy and Mommy in Washington, D.C. are always there to care for me and tell me what to do and how to think. Now I can let my mind go blank and just kind of drift through life in a foggy, unfocused daze. How warm and fuzzy and secure it all is! I thank my masters for taking care of me!