When spics die young

The United States is littered with mass-produced, TV-raised runts who are conditioned to believe that nothing could ever be worse than the (strategically embellished) nigger-slavery of yester-century.

Often, these runts know of such verses in the Christian Bible as Ephesians 6:5, which instructs: “Slaves, obey your masters.”

However, plenty of these runts know nothing of the very next admonition, in verse nine: “And masters, treat your slaves the same way, without threatening them, because you know that both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with Him.”

And the Christian Bible is certainly not the only classic text to speak of the burden of responsibility which an owner owes to a slave. Yet these things are largely lost on USA’s commodified, cowardly, often-complicit runts.

Nevertheless, modern-slavery, with its seasonal and otherwise segmented nature, is far worse, in more than zero imperative respects, than the slavery which modern cogs learn dutifully to bemoan:

Effectively, there is no duty owed to the seasonal migrant. Moreover, their job is the most deadly in the United States (even more so than the work at a factory slaughterhouse that processes poisoned non-human animal meat to glut hubristic humans).

Worse, an attentive and intelligent person should anticipate that, in more than zero instances, the dangerous conditions under which seasonal migrant-slaves toil are not merely tolerated by modern masters but rather rewarding.

In a quite practical sense, the field is a slaughterhouse for migrant workers. After all, if an over-worked migrant drops dead in a field — then the minuscule cost to the seasonal master is only that of replacing the depleted carcass with any fresher flesh from among those wretches caravaning, each season, to clamor at the gates of the slave-state, begging to be inspected and selected from the razor-wired-encircled auction-block.

Meanwhile, that minuscule cost is already practically factored into the yearly harvesting of little brown bodies to expedite the big white harvests of the north; moreover, whatever additional cost accrues to the carcass-discarding master is offset many times over by the benefit of migrant-slaves dropping dead mid-till: masters need pay nothing to a carcass (only tolerate the loss of productivity during the minutes or hours of any quaint, momentary reverence that other slaves may pay to the fallen).

The status quo is a moral kidney-stone. This, too, shall pass. And the longer that the corrupt masters and cowardly co-conspirators cling to things as they are — the more painful will be the transition to things as will inevitably become.

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