I am always suspicious of these arguments that rely on emotional appeals. The one that really insults me though is the ‘100,000 children are homeless at Christmas’ and therefore money must be distributed ‘if we are a caring society’. Who can argue against that? Then you look closer and ‘homeless’ includes being in a temporary foster home. So… not homeless. No children are actually living on the streets. It’s just that the people who work for charities are wanting to pay their mortgages with your money, either voluntary through emotional bullshittery, or involuntarily through the Government. It’s nothing to do with helping the kids.
Not every case of charity is a scam and there are some people in trouble, so you have to learn how to discriminate between the worthy and the unworthy causes and not get caught up in the emotional manipulation.
They know we have a soft spot for the children. You can’t blame children for their situation. In terms of the homeless however, you can blame the adults, especially if they are advanced in years.
I’m reminded of a moment in Zagreb two years back. I was on an early date with JJ. We were having green teas in a little cafe garden called ‘Bacchus’, located near the central station.
JJ spotted this old chap. He was in his late 70s or 80s this twat. He looked half drunk, unhappy, sitting in the corner alone. The cafe staff were occassionally glancing over, unhappy he was there. He had no money for a drink.
‘That poor old man’, JJ whined, ‘the staff don’t want him here, no one wants him here’.
‘I’m not surprised, he’s horrible, look at him, looks like he hasn’t bathed in 20 days’, I sagely observed.
‘JJ! Don’t be cruel. He’s lonely. I am going to go and talk to him, I’ll offer him a drink’.
‘I woudn’t do that’, I warned. ‘I am telling you, he won’t thank you, he’s a twat’.
JJ wouldn’t have any of it and she marched off on her little crusade while I sat and stirred my green tea, wondering how she’d ever convinced me to start drinking the stuff. At least if was stirring it, I wasn’t actually drinking it.
She came back with a look of disbelief on her face. He’d been so unbelievably rude to her she had been mortified and everyone had heard. Were he young and not pathetic, what he said would have been a fighting offence. Let’s just leave it at that.
But he was old and pathetic and I was delighted in my vindication. I could barely wait to get the words out of my grinning mouth, ‘I told you so’, I grinned.
And how did I know? Well it’s simple. He’s 80. He’s been on the face of this planet for 80 years and in all that time, not one, not a single solitary person has liked him enough to give half a shit about him. I mean, not even let him put a tent in their garden. 80 years and he still has nobody.
Because he’s a cunt. It’s a simple as that. If you’ve gone your whole life and you have no friends then you’re a cunt. That’s how you tell you’re a cunt. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. Do people stick around? Do they stay in touch? Do they call?
It’s impossible that I’ll ever be homeless. Ever. There’s at least 20 people I can name right now who, if I lost everything, I could call and would have a place for me to stay and get me back on my feet.
None of those 20 people will ever be homeless either. Ever. If any of them were under it or even close to it, they’d have a place and food at mine for as long as they needed.
Then you get the emotional arguments:
They’re drug addicts, ex-squaddies, mentally ill, have had a lot of bad luck, there are no jobs, they’ve been abused as kids. I don’t buy any if it. Some will have a story, some will be ex squaddies who couldn’t get over the war and turned to drugs. I’d ask where their families and friends are and dig a little. But sure there are some deserving cases. I don’t know why that’s the default supposition though. My default position is they are more than likely just stupid cunts who fucked their life up through being a twat and making stupid decisions.
I remember when I was working in Bolton earlier this year a beggar asked me for money while I was lining up for the cash machine. Actually walked up and asked us all as we waited for money. I refused her. I told her I worked really hard for my money. She immediately got aggressive and told me there was no work for her.
‘But look, look around you… there’s litter all over the streets’. I pointed at fast food wrappers on the floor. ‘You could provide that service. Before you just beg, clean the street and ask for a tip’.
The look on her face when I suggested she stoop so low as to pick up other people’s litter. She went into orbit and I walked off before she attacked me. She was screaming about ‘who do I think she is’ to pick up litter.
Someone does pick up litter for a living. They earn a wage for it. It’s a good service. Where’s this magic wand that makes it fine for him to pick up litter but demeaning for her to do so, to the point where we should just give her money for nothing before she should ever stoop so low as to have to perform that task.
Supporting cunts just makes it easier to be a cunt and diverts resources away from people who are genuine. As soon as I see the emotional talk, my shutters go down. I’ll help any man, woman and particularly child who is genuine and the reason I have the spare resources to do that is only because I defend my wallet from far more numerous parasites and leeches.