Better to let them die, and decrease the surplus population. Ebenezer Scrooge, “A Christmas Carol,” 1843
USAID is a criminal organization. Elon Musk, 2025.
Dickens lives among us. So do Hunger and Want. Scrooge meets them here, thanks to the Ghost of Christmas Present.
Here, Musk carries Li’l X, his son, in the Capitol. Bob Cratchit carried Tim, too, for the simple reason that his son could not walk.
So this song is for you, Elon Musk. I hope that ghosts of children come with it. They will begin to visit come Monday, because they will begin to die this weekend.
Had these children lived, they would’ve remembered the gunnysacks filled with American wheat brought up by great harvesters, belching blue diesel smoke, in South Dakota and and rice harvested, winnowed from drained fields by big combines, from the Sacramento Delta. Their parents would’ve explained to them what the flag on each gunnysack meant.
But by Monday, they’ll be as dead as Marley. Mankind was my business! he wailed to Scrooge, bound by his chains punctuated by strongboxes. Marley, too, was wealthy. The wealth of his agony, in death, was too much to bear.
As to Elon Musk? I don’t know what he’ll experience once he dies, but the children who survive Monday will never forget him. He’s the man who will have taken their brothers and sisters away from them.
This is for my parents. They both experienced want in the Great Depression. Mom’s ancestors were Famine survivors from County Wicklow, Ireland. Dad did see, quite literally, bloody footprints in the snow left by the proud mountain people of the Ozark Plateau.
Both of them knew that there was a better way to treat hungry children. This is what I mean. This is what they taught me, in the link below.
A Work in Progress 