Cough syrup.
Cat food.
Dog food.
Livestock feed.
Toothpaste.
Pharmaceutical albumin.
Oh, those wacky pseudo-free-market government-backed (until it bites them in the ass) entrepreneurs! These people make the Monster Meat-packers in Upton Sinclair’s THE JUNGLE look like poster children for socially enlightened kindness-based human resources, animal husbandry and core business practices.
Here is a business/government so hellbent for profit that they would candy-coat rat turds and sell them as multi-vitamins, candy, and male-enhancement drugs depending on which packaging is in the pipeline that day. Hell, they probably already have!
It’s not as though this is anything truly new, either. Sure, up until now it has been things like counterfeit CDs, DVDs, VHS tapes, designer bags and shoes, designer clothing, home and personal electronics, software, toys and automotive parts. It was fake Cartier necklaces, fake Rolex watches, fake Zippo lighters, fake Marlboro cigarettes, fake ball cards, fake copier toner and fake appliances. If it had a high-recognition brand or label attached to it, you can rest assured that some pallid imitation of the product was being mass produced, stuffed into shipping containers, and deposited at the Port of Long Beach (among others) for distribution to department stores, back alleys and flea market stalls across this entire country.
And we knew it. And the store owners knew it. And our watchdog agencies knew it. And our appointed officials knew it. And our elected officials knew it.
And we did nothing.
Well, that’s not entirely true. It certainly can’t be said that we did nothing. We rewarded them.
We gave them Most Favored Nation trade status. What a farce.
“Here, take the keys to the vault. Damned glad to have you, China. And you can take all you want out of here, any time you want so long as we can show we’re getting a bit little out of your vault too. It doesn’t have to be much, just something symbolic so we can build some statistical chart to fool our constituents into thinking we’re actually working on that pesky trade deficit…well…we are…Just not in the direction they want. But Damn, this all will sure make MondoMart just love us and you know how they show their love, too. Cha-ching!”
Up until now, if you bought one of the counterfeit items being dumped here to make billions of dollars for a slavery supported, empire-driven, false utopian government, the chances of you or someone you knew being hurt by the purchase (other than by the far-reaching, negative, cumulative economic effects) was actually pretty slim.
Sure, you might be mugged by a jealous cross-dresser for flashing that pair of vicious knock-off Prada pumps after dark in a trendy neighborhood revitalization area. You may even think yourself the proud owner of the new Nine Inch Nails cd only to find out that instead of Trent Rasnor all of the vocals have been re-dubbed by a poor Elvis Presley imitator. Even at that, other than the potential for psychological damage in either situation and the initial out-of-pocket expense of the items, you’re really not permanently damaged by either one of them.
Sadly, that is not the case any more. These things can kill you, and dead is dead.
“Sorry, baby, but Gramma won’t be coming home. I know we told you it wasn’t a serious operation, but the doctor was trying really, really hard to keep his costs down, so he bought some of the medicines he needed from China so it would be a little cheaper, but what was in the little bottle wasn’t what it was supposed to be, so Gramma’s blood didn’t act like it was supposed to and now she’s in heaven with your kitty that died a few months ago. But the good news is now there’s an empty space at the Big People Table this Thanksgiving.”
A product that cost approximately $1.38 per vial to make, which sells for $38.00 per vial at the patient level. We’re looking at a product that right from the start has a mark-up of over Three Thousand Percent. Not three hundred percent. That merely triples it. Thousands. And this product is a necessity for persons in certain medical situations, which makes it something for which there is a consistent demand.
What on earth would make anyone think that a Three Thousand Percent profit margin was so inadequate that they would taint, adulterate, dilute, stretch and otherwise alter a medication or similar compound?
It’s more than greed, people. It’s a complete mentality, a state of mind developed over decades. It’s a thuggish, egocentric, narcissistic mentality that puts the One Central Being above all others with no regard for those others. It’s the Crips or the Bloods or Hell’s Angels or Outlaws with a bigger budget and nuclear weapons.
And it has Most Favored Nation status.
For now, perhaps.
Thank you to all who read that last rant. I truly appreciate that there are a few of you who still drop by this dusty, cobweb-filled space just to see if anyone has left footprints once in a while. It is much appreciated.
Where to start today...? Well, let's touch on something a bit lighter than the People's Mafia of China and their sickening and transparent attempts to contaminate the pantries of the world. Let's talk about just how old the movie Shrek the Third made me feel.
Old. Very old.
I took Anna, the young Miss, last weekend to see it at the wonderful multiplex in Plainfield. I expected that she wouldn't get all of the humor, since much of it is specifically geared for the adults coerced into attending so that their broods can see the movie. What I didn't expect was that even among the moms and grandmas in attendance that I would be the only one old enough to catch a lot of the "grown-up" jokes.
I'm only 50. I'm not that old. But when the Queen (Julie Andrews) broke into a few bars of "My Favorite Things" I was on the floor and the rest of the parental set missed it completely.
I'm of the opinion that if you're over 14 or under 50 a lot of the gags will go right over your heads. And if you have any community theater background at all, you'll be hysterical over the abysmal dinner theater bits at the beginning. Been there. Done that. Got the t-shirt and passed it on to Goodwill, thank you. It was like watching one of those horrific final dress rehersals that put directors into rehab and make producers suicidal. I was afraid they were going to ask me to leave, I was laughing so hard.
I understand that a lot of people didn't like this one as much as the prior Shreks. They obviously just did not have the life history to appreciate just how funny it really is.
Apparently I did.
Because I'm old...
And proud of it, thank you.