Hightower, Jim, The Progressive
"It's bedtime, children, so put on your jammies, scootch under the covers, and I'll tell you another story about the Texas governor.
He is flitting hither, thither, and yon--spreading little Perry tales about his record so that he can get to the White House. It's a bit of a strange quest, because he calls the capitol city "a seedy place," and he tells the commoners that he hates--nay, deeply loathes!--the very government that he wants to head. With his tea party hat carefully positioned atop his bounteous crop of hair, Prince Rick warns the commoners that big government is bad, bad, bad--because it intrudes into their lives, forcing things like Social Security and Medicare on them.
This prancer would not be where he is, though, without the steady "intrusion" of big government into his life. From first grade through college, his education was paid for by local, state, and federal taxpayers. He was even a cheerleader for the government-run college he attended. And, as cotton farmers, he and his family were supported with tens of thousands of dollars in crop subsidies from the pockets of national taxpayers--a big government "intrusion" into his pocketbook.
Then, after a brief stint in the federal government's Air Force, the perfidious prince hit the mother load of government largesse: political office. He's been hunkered down there for twenty-seven years and counting. In addition to drawing more than a quarter-century's worth of monthly paychecks from Texas taxpayers, including $150,000 a year as governor, Perry also receives full health coverage and a generous pension from the state. Wait, there's more: He gets $10,000 a month to cover the rent on a luxury suburban home, a flock of personal aides, and even a state-paid subscription to Food & Wine magazine.
So, children, ignore Perry's talk--and look at what he actually does. When he says he intends to make government "as inconsequential as possible," he means in your life, not his. …