The government and you.

Saga of Uncle Feds explains voter anger

John Kass

When the Democrats were poised to win the national elections two short years ago, the media took notice of all the hope wafting across America.

There was even hope in Berlin, and Americans were told to be encouraged about the huge crowds of Germans gathering to approve all that hope coming to the U.S.

Hope and change, yes we can!

Hoffen und aenderen, ja wir koennen!

But now, with the economy still in the tank and unemployment hovering around 10 percent, and with Republicans poised to make big gains in the November midterm elections, the media is consumed with a different theme.

We're no longer talking hope. These days, the election is framed as one of anger and rage against the federal government.

And since we've been taught that anger is irrational, doesn't it follow that anger aimed at the government is also irrational? Who wants to be mocked as irrational?

Surely, those with a brain can see the Orwellian logic in all of this — or is that Axelrodian logic?

"When people are angry, they want to focus on their anger," said Democrat and Vice President Joe Biden a few days ago, proving my point. "If this is a referendum on anger, we lose. If this is a referendum on choice, we're going to win."

A few days ago, a reporter for one of the national TV networks stopped by the Tribune to ask me the big anger question: Where does it all come from?

So I told him one of my favorite stories. Some of you know it as the saga of Uncle Feds.

Uncle Feds is the big fat fellow who crashes on your couch. He's been there for years and years. He demands roasts and chops, devouring whatever he can find in your refrigerator. And when you're out working long hours, Uncle Feds sits on the couch ordering pay-per-view movies.

He was plenty big before all that hope and change. But in the last two years, Uncle Feds has become so incredibly large that his bulk defies description.

And while he eats, you begin to realize that you don't have enough cash to fix that hole in your shoe, let alone think about college tuition for the kids.

So one night at dinner, Uncle Feds brings up the subject of your family's financial problems. In a rational, calm and hopeful voice, he tells you that yes, the economy is lousy, but that you must stop worrying.

"Don't be angry," says Uncle Feds with a mouthful of rare beef. "Don't focus on your anger. Don't worry about a darned thing. I've just solved all your cash shortage problems."

Your wife gives you one of those startled looks.

"Uncle Feds!" she says, "Just what have you done?"

"Well, I've just taken out a second mortgage on your house," says Uncle Feds. "Your cash-flow worries are over."

If your life were a TV sitcom, the producer would cue the laugh track. A trombone would play that "wah-wah-wah" music, and you'd hit your forehead with your palm, saying "Oh, Uncle Feds!"

But real life is not a sitcom. There is no laugh track, except for the one in your head when you're in the voting booth.

Unfortunately, the TV people thought my Uncle Feds story too complicated for their report on anger, and that kind of made me angry.

So to soothe myself, I reached for a calming government report from the Social Security Administration released last week. Officials studied where some $13 billion in federal stimulus payments went.

The officials were pleased that most of the money went to the right folks. But 71,688 federal stimulus checks were sent to dead people. And 17,348 jail or prison inmates also received checks, perhaps to help stimulate the prison economies.

As for the $22.3 million of your cash that went to prisoners and dead people? Oh, well.

It's only tens of millions. That was a big number once, remember? Then billions were considered big. Then hundreds of billions. But hundreds of billions are so … 2008.

We're into the trillions now. And if you're angry that our White House and Congress are spending money we don't have, well, then, you might just be acting irrationally.

It makes you wonder what would have happened back in Boston in 1773, when those original Tea Partiers gathered to toss bales of tea into the harbor.

Let's imagine that they listened to the Tory gazettes informing them that their anger was irrational and misplaced and that only barbarians and spoiled children vent their spleens with such theatrics as tea dumping:

"Stout yeomen, our good King George has a plan! He's not mad. He needs your money to pay for much-needed programs, like government leechings for everyone!

"Access to quality leeches is a right of all Englishmen! And the king cannot afford a tax cut! Are you so blinded by your rage that you can't understand? The king cannot afford a tax cut!"

What if the original Tea Partiers wiped off that Indian war paint and went home? There would have been no tea polluting Boston Harbor. And we wouldn't have a Congress.

But we'd have a House of Lords, wouldn't we?

Sure, it's tough picturing U.S. Rep. Charlie Rangel, D-Ethically Challenged, snoozing on that beach chair in a powdered wig, but try.

Don't be angry. Uncle Feds doesn't like it. It's so much nicer to be calm and rational.

Ja wir koennen!