Oh, America. Land of the free, home of the grossly overworked Amazon associate who just peed in a bottle so Jeff Bezos can afford to put marble countertops in his second yacht. Not the yacht—the yacht’s yacht. A little backup boat, like a bougie sidecar for when your primary vessel is too emotionally burdened by the weight of labor violations.
Yes, while Bezos sits on a tidy pile of $230 billion, it’s worth noting—that’s post-divorce. As in, after his ex-wife walked off with $38 billion and he still had enough left to cosplay Poseidon on a helipad. If you’ve ever wondered what “ungodly wealth” looks like, it’s this: giving away a continent’s GDP and still being able to buy one.
Meanwhile, thousands of his employees—who deliver your 24-pack of cat socks and emergency hemorrhoid cream—are surviving off food stamps, Medicaid, and public housing. Which, in case you missed the math, means your tax dollars are subsidizing his seafaring palace while you argue with your insurance company about whether adult asthma is a “lifestyle choice.”
Let that sink in. Or better yet, let that float.
Welcome to America: Where the Rich Get Yachts and the Poor Get Finger Wagged
Imagine making $15 an hour, clocking out after ten hours of being screamed at by an algorithm, and realizing you still qualify for state assistance. Meanwhile, your boss is gently exfoliating his bald scalp in the Adriatic Sea while listening to Rich Men North of Richmond for irony.
And because nothing says “I care about workers” like a corporate wellness email, you get a monthly reminder to “hydrate and be grateful,” sent from a server farm in hell.
“Job Creator” or Wealth Hoarder in a Patagonia Vest?
Let’s talk about this idiotic “job creator” defense. Bezos didn’t create jobs. He created economic sinkholes that trap desperate people into cycling through a warehouse like cattle on Adderall. You don’t get a humanitarian sash for creating jobs that necessitate public assistance to survive.
That’s like kicking someone in the teeth and then handing them a coupon for dental floss.
And while we’re at it, can we stop pretending that working for Amazon is a noble American rite of passage? It’s not summer camp. It’s a concrete purgatory lit by fluorescents and dreams deferred. The kind of place where peeing becomes a scheduling conflict and lunch breaks are considered a luxury if you don’t pass out first.
Bezos’s Grocery List Costs More Than Your Rent
This is the same man whose net worth skyrocketed $70 billion during a pandemic, while your grandma was making masks out of old bras and your cousin Dave got laid off from Cheesecake Factory. He could buy every home in Detroit and still have enough left over to build a yacht in the shape of Ayn Rand’s smug face.
But sure, Brenda in packing can’t afford her blood pressure meds. Priorities.
The Floating Middle Finger to Human Decency
Let’s go back to the yacht, shall we? This floating ode to unchecked capitalism reportedly cost around $500 million, not including the decoy yacht that follows behind like a loyal golden retriever trained in wealth hoarding. The thing has a helipad. And probably a robot butler that calls Bezos “Daddy.”
You know what it doesn’t have? A conscience.
Meanwhile, back at the warehouse, someone just got fired for “time theft” because they dared to sit down for 90 seconds without permission. But yes—let’s all send thoughts and prayers to Jeff for surviving the existential crisis of choosing which private jet to cry in.
Tax Season: Sponsored by You, for Him
Here’s the kicker: he’s not even paying for it. You are. Through tax loopholes the size of his ego, Bezos and his empire pay less in taxes than your average Waffle House waitress. Meanwhile, Amazon workers rely on public benefits to stay alive.
Translation: we’re all pitching in so he can sip Dom Perignon off a superyacht while your neighbor gets denied disability for having the audacity to develop chronic back pain after twenty years of working construction.
The American Dream Is Dead. It’s Now a Fulfillment Center in Phoenix
This isn’t capitalism. It’s economic cosplay. We’re LARPing freedom while being steamrolled by billionaires who treat empathy like a supply chain delay.
And still—still—people defend it. As if billionaires are just misunderstood introverts with investment portfolios. As if the guy who can singlehandedly gentrify a ZIP code is somehow relatable because he started out selling books in a garage. Newsflash: I started out eating SpaghettiOs in a trailer. Where’s my yacht?
Congratulations, You Played Yourself
So the next time you’re celebrating Prime Day by buying your fifth Ring camera to avoid making eye contact with your neighbors, just remember: the same man who delivers your dog vitamins in 24 hours is delivering your democracy to the nearest offshore tax shelter.
You’re not gaming the system. You’re the inventory.
And Bezos? He’s laughing. From his yacht. While an underpaid deckhand fans him with the broken dreams of a thousand workers too tired to organize.