You are never going to be rich

Listen friends, you have to face the truth: . The chance of that happening is about one in a million- Not only are you never going to be rich, but you are going to have to live the rest of your life busting your butt to pay cable bill and the music and art classes for your kid at the public school where they used to be free.
And it is only going to get worse. Whatever benefits you may have known are going to get whittled down to nothing- Forget about a pension, forget about Social Security, forget about your kids taking care of you when you get old because they are barely going to have the money to take care of themselves. And don't even think about taking a vacation, because odds are your job won't be there when you get back. You are expendable, you have no rights, and by the way, “whats a union?”
I know, many of you don't think it's that bleak. Sure. Times may be tough, but you think you'll survive. You'll be that one person who somehow escapes the madness- You are not going to give up the dream of some day having your slice of the pis. In fact some of you believe the whole pie might some day be yours.
I have some news for you: You are not even going to get to lick the plate. The system is rigged in favor of the few, and your name is not among them, not now and not ever. It's rigged so well that it dupes many otherwise decent, sensible, hard-working people into believing that it works for them, too- It holds the carrot so close to their faces that they can smell it. And by promising that one day they will be able to eat the carrot, the system drafts an army of consumers and taxpayers who gladly, passionately, fight for the rights of the rich, whether it means giving them billions in tax breaks while send their own children into dilapidated schools, or whether it means sending those children off to die in wars to protect the rich man's oil. Yes, that's right: The workers/consumers will even sacrifice the lives of their own flesh and blood if it means keeping the rich fat and happy because the rich have promised they can join them at the table.
But that day never comes, and by the time the working stiff has this figured out, he's in an old age home spewing a lot of bitter mumbo jumbo about authority and taking it out on the aide who is trying to empty his sorry bedpan.
From the book 'Dude,Where's My Country' by Michael Moore