In the United States this is the case especially, that we the people are slaves—the entire working class, which is 99 percent of the country, I'd say, in the United States. Just look here, I work 40 hours a week at a job, paying taxes, and still have no health care or retirement savings. Hell, even nevermind the health care and the retirement,—which is a crime—all people should have access to health care if they want it, really—I can work 40 hours a week, paying taxes, and still not be able to afford rent, a roof over my head, shelter—let alone food on top of the rent, and water and electric. Now, if I work 40 hours, I'm payed something, to be true. But it's not enough. Maybe I can afford food.
So then I'll sleep outside, I decide. Look, I work 40 hours a week, but I can't afford $900 a month rent, or whatever it is,—almost always proportional to—with what I'm payed. So I'll sleep outside and pay only for food, in order to save some money, to try to get ahead—which will only be depleted again eventually, money from being ahead, because the pay at work never does increase enough. And some new calamity always arises.
But you can't sleep outside. The cops won't let you, for one. They find you and give you a fine. Or they wake you and make you move. Or they take you to a homeless shelter. Or they take you to jail. You can't sleep outside. Or shopowners and home-owners make it completely impractical and inconvenient as possible. Or the local drug dealers become aware of you—allowed often by the cops. And they threaten you. Sell our drugs and get some money and pay for a place to sleep inside, damnit. Or die. And then the cops, again, they just throw you in jail if they catch you selling the drugs of course. In the United States, it's truly a crime to be poor.
But luckily with the job I can afford food at least. Else I'd have no other way to get it otherwise, some food. I can't carry a little .22 rifle round and shoot rabbits afterall. Or else I'd be shot dead by the cops for carrying a rifle. I can't just walk round shooting animals. And I can't get my own food from the land. We don't grow our own food anymore, for the most part—so fooled by industry, our ancestors. All our land is sold and cut-up. But hell, nevermind all that. Even if somehow I could get my own food, I can't make fires in most towns and cities in the United States, anyway, in order to cook the food.
So I must have money, then, in order to buy food, in order to eat—preprocessed junk, too, I must buy, if I've got no place to cook—which only contributes to sicknesses, processed food, for which we must then have health care to supposedly cure these sicknesses which we're almost forced to get, buying this preprocessed junk. And the only way to get that money to buy this shit food is to work. So, I'm forced to work to survive. That's slavery. That's worse than slavery actually, the food I'm forced to buy if I've got no place to cook. It's genocide.
Or I can get food stamps, true, money from the government to pay for food. But damn the government. So I don't. But I have a job anyway. So I can't get food stamps even if I wanted probably. Sorry, they'd say.
Or I can maybe get Section 8 too, to pay for a place to sleep, a place to cook, money from the government for shelter. But damn that. I got a job. So again, I probably won't even get the Section 8. Sorry, they'll say. But I can sleep outside anyway. But I'm not allowed to sleep outside. The damn cops won't let me.
Look, I'm trying to do it right here. But it still doesn't work. And it's the only option I have, to work. If you don't want to take handouts, and you are not from a wealthy family, then you must work. And so I do. But really, you could refuse too. And you could live outside and get your own food. But you can't. Or you're not supposed to anyway. You almost can't refuse really. Else you're fined or thrown into jail or otherwise persecuted for sleeping outside and making fires.
So I must buy my food at a supermarket. And I must pay to stay inside some place at night. And I must work to afford both. I'm forced—persecuted if I attempt the alternative, to not work. That's slavery.
If I choose not to work, to be a part of this wage-slavery, I must be allowed then to live still, to survive. We all have that right. But I'm not allowed. I'm fined and thrown into jail. Which is not death, true, jail and fines, but persecution still, just for living. And I can't sleep or eat unless I have money. And I must work to get money. We're forced to work in the United States. We are slaves.