Let’s just get this out of the way: the idea that conservatives oppose taxes on the wealthiest Americans is because they, themselves, are part of that tax bracket is probably pretty misguided. This isn’t to say there’s no truth to it, but that’s the kind of thing that tends to draw scrutiny from the Justice Department with some celerity.
Before you start calling me naive, just hear me out. I promise I have a better explanation for why certain politicians, against the better judgment of what I would consider to be what’s known colloquially as a “preposterous majority” of Americans, insist on voting against taxing people who can afford it. Also, my name is Simon, not “Naive,” and if you call me that one more time I’m going to cover your car in Kraft Singles and liberally apply heat.
I’m going to paint a picture for you here.
Think back to your childhood. No, not that one. Nobody cares if you were a “leash kid.” I’m talking about your childhood. The childhood of rainy Saturday mornings, of playing the “how many bowls of Lucky Charms can I get away with eating before my parents notice” game, of doing everything in your power to make your parents terrified for your future.
Naturally, that means I’m talking about Batman. Let’s delve deeper into this arbiter of nocturnal justice. Under the guise of darkness, he assumes the aspect of a fearsome crime-fighting man of the night. Undetectable, all-seeing, swift and irresistibly attracted to low-hanging tropical fruits, mercilessness is the only capacity which Batman doesn’t inherit from his namesake.
Unlike other superheroes, though, Batman has no powers of an appropriately super nature, and he isn’t exactly the greatest at PR. His aptitude for ass-kicking seems to go more or less unappreciated by the establishment, save a few key alliances at the top of the Gotham food chain, and all of this begs the question: How can he afford all the fisticuffs he lays down on the bad guys? How about that supercomputer he’s got laying around in a damp cave? How many Batarangs don’t come back? Those things can’t be cheap.
The answer, of course, lies with his daytime venture, Wayne Enterprises (formerly WayneCorp), the world’s leader in investments, technology, research and development, contracting, agribusiness, manufacturing, telecom, aerospace, chemistry, raw materials acquisition and apparently crime-fighting discretionary funds. Suffice it to say that Bruce Wayne makes an absolute batload of money.
But what happens when Barack Hussein Obama, a devout secret Muslim bent on eradicating religion, gets elected to a second term and decides to fulfill his socialist fascist Global Warming conspiracy Community-Supported-Agriculture plan to raise taxes by EIGHTY BILLION PERCENT? Suddenly Wayne Enterprises has a lot less money to throw around and Bruce Wayne, once Gotham’s foremost job creator, has to fight for scraps in Uncle Obama’s soup lines like the rest of us. Granted, the way he can fight, he’d probably end up with a monopoly on state-owned soup, but last time I checked you can’t fight crime with squash bisque.
To bring this twisted, nearly unreadable rambling full circle, I present you with the following eyebrow-raising conclusion: Republicans can’t tax rich people because some day, in some land, for some reason, out of their ranks will rise a hero, and that hero will need stacks on stacks to have any hope of bringing justice back to this God-forsaken land. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Batman Thesis.