Why People Hate Government

A few months ago, I came home on my bike from my afternoon lessons to see that somebody had built a shed with a proudly-displayed fucking union flag of some sort on the corner of our property over by the rice fields.  I asked my wife's family about it, and nobody seemed to know anything.  The next morning a construction crew suddenly showed up at my house where I usually work during the day and announced that they would be tearing up the sidewalk in front for the next six months.  They would be using the shed for rest and relaxation between shifts.

The crew began work immediately after informing me (probably the lowest-ranking member of the household) and leading me around to inspect some stuff I had never even seen before - like the outside of the wall around Chiyabappa's garden - to make sure everything was as it should be.  After my "inspection" and inferred "approval" of the "plan", one of the workers asked if he could cuddle my baby to prove that I could trust them or we had bonded or something.  I ignored him.  No, I will not give you my baby, stranger.

Since then, the constant flow of concrete and heavy-metals vapors pouring into my kids's lungs and the ceaseless noise of jackhammers being operated ten yards or so from where I used to enjoy my morning coffee has almost been enough to reverse any newfound faith in government I've developed since starting working with Obama campaign volunteer Joe.  I've now reverted to my pre-Inductive one or two degrees from Zack de la Rocha. 

Usually, I ride my bike to my classes in the afternoon, after I've finished reading the Elmo book eight times in a row or contemplating the mysteries of the belly button or working on the computer for the day; but occasionally, if I am very busy and have to go to multiple places to teach, I decide at the last minute to drive.  Sometimes, I find a cement mixer or caterpillar blocking my car, and must ask the Third Amendment violators to kindly move their equipment so I can get out of my own driveway and be only a few minutes late for work.  For the most part they've been okay about removing the equipment in question quickly, but I think my Neville Chamberlain approach has given the crew tacit license to expand more and more its lebensraum.

About six weeks into the current vaporize the sidewalk with perpetual jackhammering project, the crew decided to close our driveway and make us drive over our own lawn and past their clubhouse to exit (fair enough, since the sidewalk in front of the driveway was what they were vaporizing that day).  But shortly afterwards, they closed this clubhouse exit off too and made us park our cars in the parking lot next door which we lease to a bento shop and then walk past their scattered equipment and their clubhouse to get in and out of our home.

I wasn't so pissed off about having to drive over the lawn as I was about having to walk past their shack constantly blasting JPop, its walls lined with soft-core pornography and even more offensive union (management?) posters looking somewhat like Soviet propaganda.  The worst part about this situation wasn't that the workers stared at me for being a foreigner, it wasn't that they looked disdainfully on me for being a suit, nor was it the awkward silence that occurred everytime my presence interrupted their locker room chitchat.  The worst part was that I had to walk through and then escape from their fucking chain-smoke tornado while cuddling babies.  I mean, I don't really mind, but my two-month-old daughter's heart is the size of a strawberry.

An even worse (if that's possible) direct result of construction in front of the house was that my older daughter couldn't fall asleep during the day and began taking her "daily" nap at five o'clock in the evening.  This meant she woke up at seven and was up exhausted and crying most nights until one or two o'clock in the morning. 

When the crew moved down the street a bit after two months or so into the project, we thought the worst was over.  When I found out they were moving, I actually performed an impromptu celebration dance one part Dirty Bird, one part WWF wrestler Lex Luger's pre-match ritual, one part waltz lessons from middle school.  The new center of fuck was in front of the parking lot next door which my wife's family leases to the bento shop on the other side, (but we're pretty sure the bento shop is secretly collecting eminent domain money from the incompetent dupes at JGov.) which means that our driveway is now relatively free, but that there are often traffic jams in front of our house due to Iizaka kaidou being shut down to one lane. 

Nevertheless, the overstepping of the bounds of decent human conduct continues.  Last week, one of the fuckers that vaporizes the sidewalk was late or something and didn't want to wait thirty seconds for traffic going the other way to pass, so he just turned right into our driveway and drove across our fucking lawn to the parking lot next door.  Not only is this unacceptable, but he drove ridiculously fast not more than ten feet from where my older daughter was playing.  We now must be careful in our own yard.

Yesterday morning, we woke up to a cement mixer parked in front of our door.  My wife was unable to even leave the house to go to the store.  She called the prefectural government to complain, finally, after months of abuse.  Nothing came of it.  Today, one of the workers asked my Father-in-law if he could use our hose to "wash his hands", and when my Father-in-law said yes, the crew proceeded to use our garden hose for construction purposes like mixing cement and cleaning tools for the rest of the day.

Coincidentally, there is another ongoing construction project (It's amazing how quickly we realize thems-a-roads needs a fixin' when the economy's bad.) near one place where I work, the parking lot for which has (of course) been commandeered by the workers.  So, as I've been doing a lot lately, I parked down the street - in the exact same place I've parked many times recently - walked to my school, and taught my lesson.   

Wasn't I surprised when I went back to my Father-in-law's car and saw a parking ticket stuck to the window.  A more paranoid person would have immediately started listening to Alex Jones's radio program.  

Not that sidewalks don't need to be vaporized with jackhammers occasionally, but the attitude of superiority, the give an inch, take a mile bullshit, and the disrespect for private property is really too much for a lot of people.  These public works fuckers represent the government, and they represent the attitude the government has towards the people.  Although anecdotal, experiencing this kind of thing over and over (especially in dealings with the police) makes people want to keep power as far away from the government as possible.

h/t John Cole