Well, who could blame him? His movie “Sicko” spelled out the medical insurance company scams and how thoroughly they owned Congress and now the American people are watching that game unfold in all it’s glory and they sit there doing nothing, apparently unaware that they’re about to get hosed so that insurance companies can make more money off their backs.
Now, in his new film, “Capitalism: A Love Story,” he spells out how the Bank Of The U.S. was robbed in broad daylight, with the foxes firmly in control of the chicken coop. And even after the big heist, the foxes who robbed the bank are STILL running the chicken coop. And, once again, the American people will watch this film and do nothing. Michael seems to realize he’s on a fool’s errand for he closes this movie with a disheartened comment that he can’t do this any more; the audience now has to get off it’s butt and do something for themselves.
Which, of course, won’t happen. The people who go see this movie already know about the scam, while the very people who really, really NEED to see this movie, won’t go. They’ll be at home (or in a homeless shelter) watching “Dancing With Washed Up Stars And Disgraced Politicos." Or showing up at faux AstroTurf Tea Bag rallies yelling about Obama as Hitler, then go out and campaign for the same thieves who happily are picking their pockets even as they wave their protest signs around.
It really is an amazing phenomenon. When did Americans get both stupid and spineless? Where we used to have a Don’t Tread On Me prickliness, a Missourian Show Me truculence, an Everyman both looking out for himself AND his neighbor, we now have either rapacious sociopathy or beaten-down “victims” – “peasants” who accept their crummy lot as nothing less than their just due. (Indeed, as Moore shows, many ginormous blue-chip companies are secretly taking out life insurance policies on their employees, privately referring to them as “peasants.” When the “peasant” dies, the company gets a hefty payback. And I’m not talking about insuring a key, top employee whose unexpected death would create a financial liability for the company. No, we’re talking about Wal-Mart “associates.” Low level employees. And when this “peasant” working for Wal-Mart dies, and leaves her family with hundreds of thousands in medical bills, Wal-Mart, one of the richest companies in the world, gets a few hundred thousand in insurance payout on that dead peasant. It’s such a sweet deal. And Lord knows, Wal-Mart needs the money, doesn’t it?
That’s the kind of culture we’ve created and cling to with such fierce strength. Grover Norquist is alive and well and clearly has become the philosopher king of our age: All liabilities and costs go to the Public; all profit goes to the smallest possible number of (tax free) hands. It’s Gospel. And it’s all ours. And, clearly, we love it.
Which only begs the question: Why?