In the minds of American business outsourcing is the maneuver to create money and everyone benefits from the strategy.  This is why American corporations the capital and the assets of America promulgate this business decision made by Ivy League graduates and people born with a silver spoon in their mouths.   Originally, outsourcing came into existence in the car and defense industry when making a piece or module was impossible because the business was not equipped or couldn’t get enough raw material to produce the needed part.   Corporations would find an American company with the tools and the intelligence to make the part, corporate would buy the part at an arbitrable discount insert it into their product and then America benefits from the ingenuity.   Outsourcing seeks to empower American businesses to work and exist where ample substrate is found so there is no shipping development or transfer fees.   It makes sense to make steel in a region with abundant iron ore.   It makes sense to have private American businesses make parts because their taxes feed the nation and everyone is employed and takes home a Christmas bonus.  Rather than allocate assets to buy land develop a new factory and skim money from owners’ assets, Standard and Poors 500 simply find a business with propinquity to supply them with parts for their product.  This is outsourcing.   What is outsourcing now?

Politicians with their inflammatory rhetoric scream that the United States has to feed the impoverished masses of third world countries.   What better way to help the world than to build factories in foreign countries and ship the parts back to the good old United States of America, With the Christian ethic in mind, poor countries can feed themselves and Americans benefit from a product produced for less money.   Americans are happy because they do not have to pay for high-technology products that are produced elsewhere, Furthermore, patriotic politicians levy tariffs, which they skim and line their own pockets and contribute the booty to the purse of the American government. This is what the politicians say,  powered by the intelligence of the nation and the big money of venture capitalists.  Everyone benefits from outsourcing.  Foreign governments employ their people, politicians levy tariffs and taxes, consumers have a product at a reasonable price and everyone, including the working class, is happy.   Is this real?

The reason why capitalists want to make products in a foreign country is because businesses outside the United States do not have to comply with labor laws or  GAAP.   GAAP is a generally accepted accounting practice that all businesses follow unless they want to be audited by the federal government.   Other countries do not have accounting practices similar to the United States.   The money produced by foreign corporations does not fall under the scrutiny of the United States Judicial review, at this point of production in the product line summary, the twenty percent can steal money and no one is the wiser.  The money flow in foreign countries is not chronicled and a computer logged like it is in the United States so assets and owners’ equity can be rematerialized or deleted without the owner’s knowledge.   Oh yes, those poor people that the government employs in foreign nations now have jobs, but they are still paid the dirt-cheap wages that their capitalistic, non-democratic rulers pay.  Twenty percent of those third-world countries skim from production costs, overhead costs, and transfer fees and become incredibly rich and no one can do anything about it.  The accounting is different there.   Politicians tell the public how altruistic they are when in reality they receive kickbacks from foreign governments deposited into Swiss and overseas accounts.    With the computer and the internet and the dark web, believe it or not, the twenty percent are all in cahoots., it is easy to follow them now but no one does, because the pie is so rich and tasty and inexhaustible.    And yes, the poor people in loincloths now have jobs and can afford to buy meat, but it doesn’t matter because when they become ill, they are euthanized and new workers take their place.  Shipping and freight industries benefit greatly from outsourcing and they send corporations and politicians kickbacks to reward for their aiding abetting and smuggling goods that are seemingly omitted from the charter and bill of goods.  Outsourcing is a pirate fantasy and the author is mad he can’t get a piece of it, Wasn’t the original idea of outsourcing to keep business local and in the hands of the people who pay taxes?    Are these same people employed now in the United States or have they had to be retrained?   Are the Americans who support the infrastructure that makes the United States a world power being starved to death while a new class of foreign billionaires who steal from their people buys houses in Beverly Hills California, Carmel, and Coral Gables Florida?  With the computer, the internet, and a patriotic IT whiz, it is now possible to follow the money.    It would be fascist to state that these people must be imprisoned for treason when the judiciary that empowers them is corrupt also.   It is far better to publish publicly on the net, on billboards, and in newspapers, photographs of those people on the take who rape America and support corrupt foreign governments so we the people can see who they are and avoid them.  Outsourcing may look good on paper, but unless the government of the United States of America can establish a judiciary presence in a foreign country and establish GAAP standards to enable the government to follow the money.

Yo ho, Yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.  Rob from the rich and give to the poor and don’t tell Will Scarlett. 

Waiting

Summer is ending, so begins fall

I am scared that the season will begin at all

Surrounded by people, and flinch at a call

Sit in a dark room with a chair at the wall

Should be outside with a rake and raking

Here inside at work and waiting

Home alone lying in bed

This month I lost my only friend

To a painful and abrupt end

Wake up in the morning and hear that he’s dead

Should be in the kitchen with cake that’s baking

Here inside at work and waiting.

Halloween comes with trick or treat

Or go to a party with people to meet

To creep and crawl with silent feet

And grope and fumble in darkness deep

Concentrate on something making

Here inside at work and waiting

Thanksgiving with my friendly family

November passes quite rapidly

Together with turkey, peas and tea

Advent begins in a cold grey sea

Winter is now and its breaking

I’m home inside at work and waiting

A

In December the birth of the son of God

I must remember what in his life he taught

Then sort the teachings out from a dark fog

Because Christmas is love not at all macabre

The frost grows on the lawn outside this morning

At the window inside at work and waiting

Happy New Year that begins with a seven

The angels above call down from heaven

To the earth below and meadows and oceans

Like the dough that sowed and rises when leavened

The days are short and nights sedating

In the kitchen alive at work and waiting

Is the vast bleakness a harbinger of Spring

When nature sets forth its most beautiful things

That grow quietly without sounds or rings

Or move about at night under moonlight scenes

With equal days and nights the equinox brings

The time flies by without break or sating

Here at work at home and waiting

Why don’t you stop by and pledge our fraternity, said the more mature-looking college senior in a suit and a tie, and Adidas tennis shoes.  My name is John.  You do not have to live at the house if you pledge but every weekend you must return to the fraternity house and do chores such as cleaning up the bathrooms and the shower area or landscaping the garden surrounding the house.  When the brother requires, each member must attend and participate in the tasks and festivities. 

I do not have time for a fraternity, says Wracks,   I have to get into graduate school, and I am studying to be a doctor.  

The girls do not care what you are studying during a toga party, says Benjamin. They just like to dance. 

I need a B plus average and I am taking all chemistry and biology courses. Whines Wracks

It is not what you know, it is who you know and the Sorority girls all come from fine upscale families. Besides, they do not bite, added Benjamin.

All right, Can I bring a friend to the party, asks Wracks.  His name is Cool.  I don’t own a car.

Cool, Kool, Cool, I have heard that name before, thinks Benjamin out loud. Wracks, do I know Kool?

I don’t think so, says Wracks, he drives a forklift and a caterpillar tractor. 

Mike puts his hand on his head looks up and says, all right; bring him along, but no drugs or guns.

See you on Friday; says Wracks, my last lab is from three to five.

The animal house sits on a hill that guards the big University.  Buses run continuously up and down the hill on an hourly basis.  The big stadium and football field are within sight and the fraternity president stands on the balcony of the Beta house and hits golf balls at the football players.   He has an accurate swing and adequate range with a big wood driver.  Now and then he beans a player in the helmet at three hundred yards and a wrack thinks maybe he should go professional.  The house on a hill has three stories, numerous balconies, and a brown shale roof.   The siding of the structure looks like wood siding painted grayish blue and the windows have wood sash and siding. All in all, the fraternity house looks well lived in from the brothers hanging out of the windows and coming and going through windows utilizing ropes, kind of like Tarzan of the Apes.   In the back of the house sits the garbage dump, with a dumpster and a constant pile of beer kegs stacked up three in a row because when the liquor store delivers, the old kegs serve as the deposit on credit for the new brew. 

The party this Friday night merely serves as a get-together for new pledges with their sponsors.  The festivities include a disco music machine with a conductor, three kegs of Coors beer, chips and nuts, and a stack of pizza boxes ten feet high.  Mike says the money for festivities comes from the dues the brothers pay each month for membership and lodging and graduated brothers donate goods and money to the cause for a continued fest.  On each story is a room with a theme sign and latch like a gate signaling private action.  One room says “Bong” private admission only, another says, “Vroom”, and another says, Love Shack.    The party mostly occurs in the entrance environment, and in the secret lodge, with special movies projected on the ceiling while people sit and drink beer, tons of beer.  Beer remains the currency of fraternity dealings and the bathrooms have a line in front of them.   The beer tastes good, flows freely, and is on the house.  Girls constantly run by in shorts and the sorority girls have their uniforms with a letter on each breast. 

Hello, wracks, says John, how do you like the fraternity? Have any girls abducted you yet?

No, none ever do, I do not have any money, says Wracks

Some girls daddy’s have lots of money and they do not need any, says Ben, one might take a liking to you.   Where is Kool?  Kool is in the secret lodge watching the movies and having a smoke, says Wracks.

What is the vroom?  Asks Wracks.

Why don’t you go upstairs and see, says Benjamin.  With that utterance, two coeds appear and lead John off to the dance floor.  Wracks goes up to the third floor and opens the door to the vroom room.  Inside is a man at a table with a glass vessel that has a receptacle at the top and a fire extinguisher with a suction cup that fits on the outside.  A sorority girl walks in and says to the man, “I want some Vroom,” the brother smiles and asks, Coors or Miller?  Miller says the girl.  The brother takes the bottle of beer and pours it into the receptacle and sticks the suction cup on the end.  The sorority sister puts the other end of the glass vessel in her mouth.  The brother says, are you ready, the girl nods her head and the brother pulls the trigger on the fire extinguisher.  The golden brew disappears through the vroom tube with a whoosh and down the throat of the Coed in under two seconds.  Can I have another, says the girl with a big smile on her face, it beats swallowing.  The brother says, That is your sixth vroom, you have to wait another half hour for another. 

Can I have a vroom, asks Wracks.

No, you are only a pledge; you have to drink the beer like a normal person.  However, you can stay and learn how to use the room like me.  Remember, pull the trigger briskly or they blow up like a balloon. 

I will remember, says Wracks, see you soon and Wracks exits the vroom room.   

Wracks finds Kool in the secret rites room watching the adult movies projected on the ceiling. A wrack doesn’t watch them because they remind him of his lack of female companionship.  

I like this place, says Kool, the girls are good-looking

Unless you are a brother, it is by invitation only, says Wracks

I have connections in high places, insists Kool.  I go where I want. 

That girl with you looks like she should go to the doctor, says Wracks, her complexion is white and pasty.

I met her tonight at the party, adds Kool, she says she knows you.

If she does, I do not remember, says Wracks.  Promise me you will take her home at a reasonable hour.

I will, promises Cool. Cross my heart and hope to die. 

A wrack looks at the girl and she smiles at him but he does not recognize her.  He thinks however that he has seen her somewhere before in his life but knows not where.  He moves off and looks for John. John stands at the head of the dance hall supervising the activities.   In the middle of the room, a girl in less than a Bikini bursts out of a huge cake and sings Happy Birthday to one of the Brothers. 

She works until Midnight says Benjamin, why you don’t stick around for a while.

I have to leave, says Wracks.  The research library opens at ten tomorrow morning and I have to write a composition every week for my English Literature class.

Tomorrow is Saturday yells John.  Tomorrow at Ten o’clock, the brothers and I will be drinking pots of coffee and pledging allegiance to the United States of America. 

I have to go, says Wracks.  Where is Kool?

He is around somewhere says John, there is lots to do

When you want to pledge, just show up insists John.

My brother joined your fraternity and his grades have hit rock bottom, reveals Wracks. 

It is not a fraternity brother says Benjamin; it’s his friend from Pepperdine.

If you pledge says Benjamin, we will let you join a secret meeting of the togas.

What happens at a secret meeting, asks Wracks

It is a secret, says Mike, and we provide the secret. 

I will think about it, says Wracks, good night.  

Mike, I thought your name was John.  

Tonight, it is John, says Mike for all those concerned

Where is Kool asks the Wracks.   He parked his red truck on the football field because he couldn’t find parking. He says he has friends in high places and no one will bother him.    If I can’t find him, I have to take the bus.

The 10:30 bus is the last bus of the night going to Tranquil Hills.   The Wracks wait at the stop opposite the frat, the huge yellow bus shows up, and the Wracks flips his yearly bus pass and gets on.   He sits near the driver in front of security.   About one-half hour later, when the bus transits through the secluded part of Moonrise boulevard, a tall handsome dark-haired man in a suit pulls the flag, the bus slows, he glowers at the Wracks and he exits amid mansions set in an urban forest.  The Wracks get to the final stop before the bus turns around, gets off, and walks in the dark to his home on Bacon’s way.  He thinks he is lucky to get away, again.

Youth truly is wasted on the young.  Youth can mean foolish impetuousness without impact or direction. What Wracks sees in Retrospect is that the world is people and interaction becomes the imperative for survival and accomplishment.  The world is people and people talk to people, who talk to people and a hug and a sincere kiss are worth more than a million dollars. Human interaction brings more than a handful of emeralds from Columbia or a tryst of pigeon blood rubies from the depths of Sri Lanka. The human touch is worth more than all the treasure bought with blood in a pirate’s plunder.    All the treasure in the world cannot buy someone to love you and tell you so.