I am, by tendency, what you might call frugal. Nice people call me “ascetic.” A lot of people call me much worse. In my more pedantic moments, I call myself "fiscally responsible" and tell myself, with an embarrassing degree of self-rightiousness, that I am living in a financially sustainable way.

So I know this non-consumptive lifestyle is abysmally un-American, but despite having paid out an ungodly amount in income taxes over the couple decades (ok, so maybe it’s closer to three) of my adult working life, I have managed to put away a little pile of money. It’s clear enough that the Social Security check that comes to my mom each month, too small though it already is, is not going to do anything but get a lot smaller, inflation-adjusted, by the time I need it. So I figure that I better put enough in my piggy bank to keep me from living under a bridge.

And now, by virtue of… what?— having been born on the north American continent where back-door wealth transfer and draining dry the morts while they drool at American Idol on the flat panel they can’t afford is “doing God’s work”, I am in debt by proxy and I am (and your grandkids are) going to have to pay that debt off either in the form of increased taxes (i.e. legalized theft) or increased inflation (i.e. legalized counterfeiting), or most probably both?

Wait a minute! I never bought anything I couldn’t afford to pay for. I never took out the loan, never signed the papers, never agreed to be encumbered. Fuck that. Fuck you. It’s not my debt. I refuse the debt.