Fast food workers “occupying” Wall Street. #imlovinit
If you can’t fucking survive on fucking $7.25 go to fucking school and get another fucking job. Those people who run the fucking restaurants and shops who fucking give out minimum fucking wage need to make a fucking profit too. Get off your lazy fucking ass and make way for the fucking high school students and college students who fucking need that job that pays $7.25.
Funny thing: the workers who are stuck in minimum wage jobs (many of whom have degrees… and huge amounts of debt racked up getting them, because of the myth that going to school is THE path to a high-paying job) are also the biggest single customer base for these sorts of corporations, and most other ones.
You know the thing that’s really going to imperil corporate profits?
The way they pay their workers.
The news keeps saying things about “consumer confidence” being low. Supposedly, it’s low “confidence” that is depressing sales of big ticket items like homes and cars, and if the current trends continue, it’s taking bites out of things like… eating out. Going to the movies. And other things that drive the minimum wage sectors of the economy.
Funny thing: people have to have money to spend money. Right now, most revenue goes straight into the accounts of the major stakeholders in the company. What does it there? It… accrues. It… adds up. What doesn’t it do? It doesn’t circulate. It doesn’t get spent. It doesn’t do anyone any good.
If you gave everyone working at McDonald’s another dollar an hour out of the profits that are currently just being pocketed, those dollars… well, they’d be spent. Almost immediately. And in the end, they’d probably end up being stuck in some millionaire’s low risk, steady return, not-at-all entrepreneurial portfolio, which is where most money ends up.
But just by the magic passing through more hands before it comes to rest, those same dollars would each be spent several more times. MAGIC, right? Same dollar, getting spent again and again and again. And every time, someone benefits. In effect, every time, everyone benefits.
When money goes to the top, it stops moving. Money that isn’t moving isn’t really money any more. It’s as useless as the high score of a video game.
This is why the places in the world—even just in this country—with the best minimum wage and the best social safety nets also have the lowest unemployment, and why unemployment grows or stays stable the more we “tighten belts”. This is just how the world works. This is how the world has always worked. If conservatives would give up their fairy tale fantasyland logic and join the rest of us in the real world, we could have the economy on its feet in no time.
And you are living in a fantasy land. You are. What jobs? What jobs are these people supposed to get? If they had no job, you would tell them “McDonald’s is always hiring.” and act like that’s an answer. Well, they’re working at McDonald’s. And they had to beat ten applicants to get those jobs, because only in your magical fantasy land does “always hiring” mean “has enough job openings to magically accommodate everybody who applies”. Your logic literally requires magic to work.
What are you doing with your life? What are you doing that is so noble and great an endeavor that you can tell people who bust their backs to do a job you probably couldn’t do and definitely wouldn’t want to that they’re lazy for working for $7.25. Would you take $7.25 an hour to do what they do? No? Then they’re being underpaid. The invisible hand of the free market is apparently taking a vacation.
Let me tell you how things work in the real world. In the real world *everyone has to* make a living wage. Has to. If businesses aren’t paying living wages, then they should inevitably go under since no one could afford to work for them. Fortunately or unfortunately, the economy… like an ecology… is all interconnected. So instead of these businesses suffering alone for what should be a fatal decision on their part, they drag everyone else down with them in a slow death spiral that poisons the whole economy.
See, if these business owners aren’t paying their employees a living wage but they’re not going out of business, then their incompetence or greed (pick one, or both) is being subsidized by everyone else. Their incompetence or greed is being paid for by everyone who pays ABOVE a minimum wage so that their employees can afford to eat out and shop and see movies, and by everybody who pays the taxes that go to the public assistance programs that allow their employees to keep scraping by.
Of course, the employees themselves are bearing the brunt of the death spiral, because they’re trapped between an immovable object—a job that against all real-world logic expects full time employees to accept wages that won’t get them through the week—and an inexorable force—the fact that human beings have basic needs that require more money than they’re getting to meet.
Since we actually do live in the real world, it’s inevitable that a system that is unsustainable will fall apart, and this one will… it will reach a breaking point where we’ll either have to acknowledge the problem and fix it, or… well, it will just break. It would be better to fix it sooner rather than later, especially since there are actual people being literally worked to death while smug jerks like you who don’t understand how the world works and who wouldn’t be able to do what they do lecture them about how their plight is somehow their fault.
bad wolf meme ★ quotes 1/4
#when i call rose tyler brave #i dont just mean the aliens she fights#the universes she crosses #i mean this#the courage to look the two people she loves most in this world outside of the doctor#and lay it out #say no#i will not sit here with you and eat chips and hope its all for the best#this is not beneath me but it isnt what i’m meant for it isn’t whats right#she’s rose fucking tyler and her doctor is a million years away killing himself for her and her mum and mickey and everyone everyone#she will not run away #she’ll face it#she’ll rip open the tardis she loves so much the tardis she thinks of as home now too after all this time#suck the time vortex into her marrow and have the strength to do what’s right for just long enough#thats the bravery i mean most (tags via somethingofthewolf)
the reason people think that only/mostly gay men are pedophiles is that the only time pedophilia is really demonized in the west is when its towards boys; sexual attraction towards young girls (or bodily features/clothing used to indicate youth like pigtails and school girl uniforms) by straight men is encouraged and seen as healthy and normal
Wow. Never heard that connection made before. Seems obvious now.
Ten/Rose. This is a very, very belated birthday fic for the wonderful thebadddestwolf. Sorry it’s so late!!
“Ouch,” grumbled the Doctor, as he straightened his posture. His hand moved to his lower back and he groaned a little.
Rose swallowed the bit of toast she was chewing and asked, “You all right?”
He’d been bending down to fetch something out of a cupboard in the galley when he’d felt the twinge. “Yeah. Just…” He rubbed at his back. “I dunno. My back’s killing me.”
"I can help you with that, if you want," Rose offered casually, taking a sip of her tea.
His eyes widened. “I’m sorry?”
"Mum said I was really good at giving back massages. Even tried to get me to go on a course for it, and all that. Too expensive though. Still, luckily Keisha’s aunt was a trained masseuse, so she taught me some stuff for free.” She placed her mug on the table and stood up, walking over to him. “I’ll give you a demo, turn around."
"No, no, it’s okay. I’ll be fine." He cleared his throat. "Thank you, though."
Not long after the sun burnt up, after drying his tears as best he could, the Doctor set his next coordinates.
They had to have a better ending.
He landed a block from the Powell Estates 64 days ago, waited behind a lorry until he saw Rose and his younger self leave their TARDIS and head toward Jackie’s flat. His adams apple bobbed as he watched them longingly, remembering the weight of her arm in his, the way her fingers clenched his jacket sleeve.
His eyes began to burn again as the two turned out of sight. Summoning the tattered scraps of his will power, the Doctor slipped inside their TARDIS.
Rose’s eyes were dry when she finally returned to her bedroom in Pete’s house; she’d cried all the tears she had.
All she wanted to do was sleep, to block out her new reality with unconsciousness, but despite her bone-deep exhaustion rest wouldn’t come.
So she set to work unpacking her bags, sorting her things into piles in order of usefulness in the universe that would forever be her home. Her eyelids finally grew heavy as she began to empty the sandy transdimensional pockets of her black leather jacket, but she couldn’t bear to stop now.
Beneath the TARDIS key, a broken bazoolium, and apple grass flavored chewing gum, Rose’s finger brushed against a sharp corner that nicked her skin.
It was a photo she had taken of the Doctor and herself as they cuddled together on a hill of an uninhabited planet, taking in its spectacular purple and amber sunset. The Doctor had gone on at length about the atmospheric makeup that caused these particular hues but Rose had largely tuned him out, choosing instead to focus on the feel of his chest behind her back, his arm around her shoulder.
Weeks later, while Rose was flipping through her photos, she realized the Doctor wasn’t looking at the sunset but gazing down at her. She was struck by how natural they looked, snuggling together, how contentedly she smiled at the camera, head resting in the gap between his shoulder and neck.
The photo had gone missing months ago, disappeared from the place she had tacked it on her bedroom wall. She had searched for hours, moving her furniture and pulling back carpets to no avail. The Doctor had promised they’d return, try to recapture the moment, but of course they never had.
But she had never put the photo in her jacket pocket. That much she was sure.
Rose’s furrowed brow smoothed in understanding as she turned the photo over.
A familiar heavy, rushed script was scrawled across the back; a combination of lean and angular letters that made Rose realize she had tears left to spill after all.
"I love you, too."