“If they can” being the operative words. Not something that poor people who’ll feel the most impact from this piece of crap legislation can do easily. Put another way, it will work as the Republicans intended.
Appropriate given that the grifters are in control.
Reminds me of Philip Jose Farmer’s “Terrible Turdothere” from “It’s the Queen of Darkness, Pal”, which is more relevant than I thought it would be after a re-read:
The myth of the Turdothere went like this. It wasn’t a Mad Scientist that created the Turdothere. In the old days it would have been, but people didn’t believe in a Mad Scientist any more. The faith in their existence was gone. They were as extinct as Zeus or Odin or maybe even God.
It was The Mad TV Writer that was the new menace. The name was Victor Scheissmiller, a man who had really lived. Everybody had seen his picture in the newspapers and magazines and read about him in them. He wasn’t something made up.
[…]
He disappeared one day, last seen climbing down a manhole. The note he left behind said he was going to create a monster, the Turdothere, and release it on the world. After it ate up all the sewer workers, it would emerge from a storm sewer and devour the whole population while they sat hypnotized before their TV’s.
The surface people thought it was a big joke. The tunnel people laughed about it when they were above. But when they were below, they did a lot of looking over their shoulders.
Nobody had seen Victor Scheissmiller in the sewers, but some had seen the heaving stinking mass of the Turdothere with its one glass eye — Scheissmiller’s own, some said. Some workers said that it was the Turdothere that had killed their buddies and cut off the head, legs, and arms. But those who’d seen the thing said it had no teeth. It must gum its victims to death, or maybe it stuck a tentacle of crap down their throats and choked them. Then it wrapped itself around them and dissolved them in its juices.
How did it keep alive when only a few people had disappeared in the sewers? Easy. It ate rats, too. And it was probably a cannibal; it ate crap, too.
It grew even larger then, and it could become a colossus, since there was no end of this kind of food, unless the plumbers went on strike. Its main body, though, was supposed to be in a sort of skeleton. Old bones put together by Scheissmiller. There were nerves of thread and catgut and a condom swelling and shrinking like a heart, pumping muscatel from a bottle for its blood, a jar of vaginal jelly for a liver, cigar butts embedded in the body drawing oxygen through it. And so on.
Others said this wasn’t correct. The thing was a 300-pound mass of nothing but living crap, no bones or bottles in it, and it flowed along and changed shape like The Brobdingnagian Bacillus That Desired Raquel Welch. (Later retitled I Bugged the Body Beautiful.)
Everybody agreed, though, that it had one glass eye which it used to spot its victims.
“Mostly it’s made of dead human hopes,’’
