The rich don't pay taxes

The most wonderful illusion foisted on the Hoopleheads is that the rich pay taxes. Today in the New York Times Mitt Romney came clean and admitted the schemes the rich use to avoid taxes. Our country and many others are going back to feudalism.  Most Americans are serfs, peasants, or just plain broke. Trump as the head circus clown keeps peoples minds buzzing with insane lies, and the MAGA guys love it. 

The world is on the edge of a cliff as Romney says. The solution is three words, "Tax the rich".  You are not rich. You might be under the Trump illusion, but unless you have a couple hundred million you are just one more peasant. 

If you want a better version of this post go over to the National Association blog. 

Nice Trip to Flagstaff

Kadizzle and the boss spent a day and night in Flagstaff. The amount of crap moving through Flagstaff by train is amazing. About every fifteen minutes a hundred car train rumbles through Flagstaff hauling stuffed animals and Chinese fribbles to Walmart. 

We spent the day wandering around the old part of town. Flagstaff has a lot of nice shops, and it is apparent tourism is the heart of the economy along with the college. Like every town urban sprawl has taken its toll. Living among the pines seems like it would be nice. The nearby Grand Canyon, and local skiing don't hurt. Flagstaff has a reputation for being liberal, which is a relief from our town plagued with Hoopleheads wearing Trump hats.

Hopefully Trump has shot his foot off with his recent appalling remarks. Over on the National Association blog the subject is getting young people to pay attention.  

Proud Father has wonderful creative daughter

 Old Kadizzle has two wonderful daughters. Both have had amazing jobs and careers. Both went to excellent colleges. Follow this lead to read about Megan and interior design. business.https://westchestermagazine.com/home/megan-albert-fieldhouse/

Why not really Clean up Payson?

Take a drive around Payson—really drive, not the postcard version. Turn onto Arrow Street and look around. It’s not a neighborhood; it’s a junkyard people are living in. Broken-down vehicles, piles of debris, and neglect everywhere.

Don’t tell me there aren’t ordinances for this. There are. They just aren’t enforced. The town council’s solution appears to be silence and avoidance. Maybe if they ignore it long enough, the blight will politely disappear.

Every year we hear speeches about making Payson better. Every year, nothing changes. Improvement requires action, not slogans. Right now, neglect seems to be official policy.

I'm Gonna Choke Your Chicken - BANNED Kentucky Folk Song (feat. Folly Pl...

The Dinger, Hoopleheads, and dolts

Toddlers With Keyboards

Kadizzle deals with a lot of people. Most are decent. Some are thoughtful. And then there is a special category that reliably crawls out from under the comment sections of social media: the poorly educated Tea Party typers.

You can spot them immediately—not by what they say, but by how they say it.

A reasoned response never appears. Evidence is never offered. Logic is nowhere to be found. Instead, the reply arrives like a toddler flinging mashed peas across the table: short, emotional, and proudly ignorant. These are not conversations; they are tantrums with punctuation.

The Hoopleheads never argue an idea. They bark a feeling.
They don’t explain—they react.
They don’t think—they type.

Thought is not their strong point. Emotion is their entire toolbox.

And when even emotion fails them, they do what the simple-minded always do: they lie. Easily. Casually. Reflexively. Facts are inconvenient things when your worldview is held together with duct tape and grievance. So the lie becomes the default setting—Trump taught them that much.

Which brings us to their hero.

Trump is admired by the simple-minded for exactly the reasons decent people recoil from him: his crudeness, his ignorance, his compulsive lying. They don’t overlook these traits—they identify with them. Trump gives permission to be dumb loudly, dishonest proudly, and cruel without consequence. To the Hooplehead, this isn’t corruption; it’s validation.

That’s why debate with these folks is impossible. Debate requires shared reality. Toddlers don’t debate—they scream until someone gives them a cookie or walks away.

So when a Tea Party typer replies to a thoughtful comment with a sneer, a lie, or a two-word insult, remember: you’re not witnessing disagreement. You’re watching intellectual immaturity trying to pass for conviction.

And like all toddlers, eventually they get tired.

Kadizzle recommends letting them.

Over on the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog there is a breakdown of the Payson Tea Party you might enjoy. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Nonsense Magnified.

 Yesterday Kadizzle attended the town council meeting. It was a lesson in disfunction. The Three Stooges are in a mess. The Stooges are now trying to implement everything they opposed. Jim Ferris is the worst Stooge of them all. Ferris want to use the money he raised from selling aluminum cans to fix the old Taylor pool. Kadizzle went to the meeting to point out the idiocy of fixing the Taylor pool. The Taylor pool would be in the ramshackle Rumsy Park.  If Payson is ever going to have a nice full recreation center Rumsy Park is too small. The Stooges are Trumpers all the way. Trump tells us we are rich, money is pouring in from Tariffs, and prosperity. However, the Stooges act like we are already in a depression. Ferris and his duct tape solutions are insane to listen to. " I know how we can do it cheaper",  Of course bogus cost figures sprouted like weeds. The Stooges pretend to represent the town when in reality they represent the twisted minds of the Tea Party. Normal people need to wake up before the Stooges Trumpitize Payson. 

Attend your own funeral.

The Donut Tontine: A Fundraiser Where Everyone Dies (But Nobody Actually Dies)

Let’s be honest—raising money is hard. Bake sales flop. Raffles annoy people. And no one wants to hear the words “fundraising committee.” So Kadizzle reached deep into the dark, dusty basement of financial history and dragged out a strange old creature called a tontine.

Don’t worry. No one is actually harmed in this version. Mostly.

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What in the Heck Is a Tontine?

A tontine was an old-school retirement plan from way back before Social Security, 401(k)s, or even common sense. Here’s how it worked:

• A group of people all put in the same amount of money.

• That money gets invested.

• Everyone splits the yearly interest.

• When one person dies, their share of the interest gets divided among whoever’s left.

• As people drop off, the survivors make more money.

• The very last person alive gets everything.

Yes—this worked great financially and terribly morally. Unfortunately, it turned out that when money increases with each death, people start dying a little faster than nature intended. Who could have predicted that? Because of the “light murder problem,” tontines were outlawed.

So naturally, Kadizzle thought: We can fix this.

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The Donuts with Democrats Tontine (No Assassins Allowed)

Here’s the safe, modern, non-murdery version.

• We recruit 26 brave donut patriots.

• Each person throws in $100.

• That creates a $2,600 Donut War Chest.

• The money sits in an interest-earning account.

• The interest helps pay for donuts, coffee, and the emotional support required after consuming that many pastries.

Instead of real death, we use something even more powerful:

Artificial Death (Also Known as “You’re Dead, But Please Pass the Sugar”)

• Every member’s name goes into a jar.

• At each meeting, one name is drawn.

• That person is now officially “Dead to the Tontine.”

• They stop receiving future interest shares.

• But they do not stop showing up, because this is not a cult. Probably.

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The Funeral (With the Corpse in the Audience)

At the next Donuts meeting:

• The previously “dead” person shows up very much alive.

• A formal funeral is held.

• Someone delivers a eulogy listing:

  • Their good deeds

  • Their bad political opinions

  • And at least one mildly embarrassing personal fact

• The “deceased” sits silently and listens to their own life summary like a ghost at their own wake.

This continues for about two years, one death per meeting.

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The Final Survivor (May God Have Mercy)

Eventually, only one symbolic survivor remains. This person:

• Becomes the Last Donut Standing

• Is crowned Keeper of the Financial Flame

• Does not get assassinated, poisoned, or shoved down a stairwell

• Does not get the money either—because this is a fundraiser, not a crime documentary

Meanwhile, Donuts with Democrats keeps the original fund and uses the interest for donuts and operations the entire time.

And here’s the beautiful part:

• Everyone gets some money back from interest during the process

• So the real cost to each person is less than $100

• Everyone gets donuts

• Everyone gets coffee

• Everyone gets publicly eulogized while still alive

This is what economists call a win-win with frosting.

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Example Numbers (Because Even a Donut Cult Needs Math)

• 26 people × $100 = $2,600 total fund

• If the account earns 5% per year:

  • $2,600 × 5% = $130 per year

• Over two years:

  • About $260 in total interest

• That interest:

  • Offsets what each person originally paid

  • Helps buy donuts and supplies

• Donuts with Democrats still keeps:

  • The full $2,600

  • Plus the interest earned along the way

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