An event that turned me off Marxism around age 23 was working for a council (public) housing department. I saw how the servants of the state were lazy and bullied and tortured the tenanats (who they hated) they were meant to protect.
They used to joke about running over the tenants. Sure, the tenants weren’t “quality” people, but at least a private landlord would have just taken the money. The council housing people had untrammelled power over the lives of the tenants (when get repairs etc). Sadism, again.
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There was one good man there. He had a limp. But his colleagues just laughed at him because he actually cared—the ones who were clever enough to understand. Dismal.
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It was here I learned about homelessness. A homeless man was given a house. Within a week or so it burned down, because he got drunk and left the gas on. Alcoholic, of course. Some people just don’t know how to look after themselves...too far gone. It’s sad.
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