Mars Bars. Sure they were a cultural icon for my parents and the cougars I prefer to have break my heart, but as the youngest millennial they weren’t really sought after. My parents were still married when they were discontinued, so I was younger than 6. Yet, I still vividly remember the moment I noticed Wrays on Summitview Ave stopped stocking them in the cashier aisles (It did also take me a few trips to ensure I wasn’t just stuck on the family friendly checkout lane with Mom and to confirm the Mars Bars really were gone).

And it’s not that I really cared about Mars Bars, but at one of the prior Wrays outings with my mom I had asked to get one at checkout time (like I did with all the other candy every other time we checked out). This particular time after Mom told me “No” as expected, I replied with “When I’m an adult I’m going to buy a candy bar every time I go to the store.” Which is, of course hilarious from a 4-5 year old, and even now I laugh thinking about it, but I also wince when I ponder about it. And I ponder it way too much.

I wince because that moment, for whatever reasoning it’s lived on for in my brain, has unspokenly but over time consciously been my marker of financial security. When I went to the grocery store for the first time as a freshman in college, I bought a lot of shit I didn’t need as is expected. And when I was married, we bought a lot of shit we didn’t need. And still, I spend money on shit I don’t need (Sorry Dave Ramsey).

That’s not to say my budget didn’t improve over time from being a less-frontal-lobe-developed-person earlier on in life, but rather admission to falling for the consumer trap 90% of us are victims to at least occasionally. This is me admitting that I could have bought a Mars Bar, or any candy in lieu of the shit I did buy (obviously), and it wouldn’t have signaled financial security.

But, that first time at the grocery store as a 19-year old on my own I thought back to Mars Bars when I was 4 or 5. I vividly remembered the moment at Wrays while chucking to my older and wiser self, and dreaming of the day I could buy a candy bar every time I went to the grocery store without checking my bank account or being concerned with how much I’d have left. It felt so close to being reality within a few short years that I could almost tangibly taste the Twix melting in my mouth.

While I do think I overestimated the ease of achieving my personal marker of financial security, I don’t think I  overestimated what financial security really should look like, and maybe to a lesser extent; the modern American Dream. Admittedly though, contentedness from financial security is not always one of life’s sweeter con’s as it sits atop the slippery slope of greed, taking its own mental fortitude to avoid.

But assuming contentment is achieved, since the American Dream is after all, a generic ability to have enough and provide to keep enough without fear; then the Mars Bars theory is a decent measure of financial security. Especially for generations where home ownership seems incredibly distant and more like a later-in-life luxury, the ability to purchase smaller luxuries with regularity becomes a decent standard of security. (Damn, replace ‘Mars Bar’ with ‘Avocado Toast’ and maybe the Boomers are right about Millennials home-buying power problems?)

The title of this post? The admission that I haven’t made it there yet, not once. The Mars Bar comment to my mom from being 4 or 5 haunts me almost every time I go to the store, especially when I’m hangry and shopping. But the point of this post isn’t about my inability to succeed, it’s nuanced with a minor point my favorite book makes.

The theme from that book The Cure to prompt the most tears (the irony at 29, or any year I’ve read it so far) has always been paraphrased in my brain as “Life becomes so heavy that you stop believing, pursuing, or trying to change the world. The dreams we once had become memories if we’re lucky, and forgotten if life really keeps beating us down.”

And I think that’s easy for most to resonate with. Eventually the bills, pressure, and relationship falters of life force us to focus on survival as the dangling carrot rather than our dreams to impact the world or thrive in the way we see fit.

And I think this point strongly depicts the growing frustration with the economic pattern in America for young people. The economic mobility of previous generations and the ability to provide basic needs is significantly harder now than years past. As the ability to support basic life expectations is harder to obtain, the less dreaming and world changing take place.

Don’t believe me?
Most of Gen Z and all of Gen Alpha don’t know that rent was once or should be only 30% of your income, they’ve entered adulthood assuming 45-55% as the standard. Freezing eggs is less about young women’s uncertainty on motherhood and much more about accepting that financial security likely won’t be attainable until late 30’s or 40’s. Driving a beater car to get ahead in life quickly becomes a 10-20 year venture rather than a 5-year inconvenience. The dreams and goals of life take an immediate back burner only to be revisited by the few who remember and are able to buy their Mars Bars.

The growth of support for democratic socialism is a response to the broken capitalist system employed in the United States. And for many, I think the knowledge of failed socialist economic policy worldwide isn’t a deterrent because the current hasn’t proven to be better. I love Thomas Sowell and Basic Economics, but I’d vote Zohran Mamdani or Bernie into office well before another Republican following the same patterns of years prior. And I think I’m not alone, because of the death of dreams The Cure points out, too many younger people are completely disenfranchised with the entire system.
Many on both sides believe that any economic solution in our current Republic is nothing more than a bandaid to a larger issue, but it’s still a bit leftist to believe complete rebuild is required.

Which for me personally, captures more of where I sit, I don’t really identify with most libtards economically  but I strongly resonate with the belief that the entire economic system needs collapse. Which I believe is inevitable on the current pace, I’d just prefer our collapse to be chosen rather than Soviet-Esque. We’d (Americans) much rather decide to break our favorite toys, to make them better, than to be queen of sandcastles another will destroy on their timeline.

The failed economic system (late stage capitalism with socialist nets) and the inability for the average American to buy a Mars Bar does make me wonder how the disparity of wealth can be moral, even if the attaining and hard work to earn it was/is moral. It’s commonly quoted that Bill, Elon, Jeff, etc. “could cure world hunger and still have 44 billion or whatever amount” and while I understand liquidity and valuation logistics makes that impossible overnight, the statement still rings true.

The morality of a billionaire wasn’t a question that had popped into my head until I was on a date last year and the gal said she would never allow herself to be a billionaire. The backstory is it was obvious she was an incredibly successful engineer and was making the correct financial moves for extreme success (don’t worry, I fumbled her, like all of them so far).

I jokingly asked what she’d spend her billions on one day, and she stated “I’d never become a billionaire” like it was a choice if she got close to becoming one. Her reasoning was simple, if she’s earning enough to reach that level of wealthy she would have more than enough already, and could easily use the excess to lift others out of their financial struggle. It was literally the “could feed world hunger” idea as an ideal and moral.

And even now it feels so anti to my principles, to argue that hard earned wealth can be immoral. In my last post I made clear that the pursuit of financial success isn’t morally or biblically wrong, but I also strongly believe the rich man who makes it to heaven is a prescription to the wealthy ‘christians‘ and a sign of the immorality to hoard wealth for anyone. I mean obviously; greed is bad. But biblically it goes further than not being greedy or hoarding wealth:

Matthew 25: 42-45
“For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ 44 Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ 45 Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’”

This isn’t solely a biblical calling to billionaires, but coupled with the story of a rich man entering into heaven I think it’s clear the top class is most likely to miss the kingdom of heaven from this text. Billionaires are launching rockets, building AI, and based on the Epstein files; safe to harm our children. Conservatively, the existence of billionaires is well-earned and deserved for those who make it, they represent what you can achieve and who you should model your ethic around. But the Bible isn’t political, and those same people we model our work ethic after are people who fail to qualify for heaven by basic biblical standards. Biblically and secularly, I see a strong case for the belief that extreme wealth is sinful and/or immoral.

So let’s tax the rich! Ha. Just kidding.
The sentiment matches what I’m saying…sure it’s radically left enough. But this is one of the areas my belief of the best outcome fails to match reality. It’s where the utopia vision crashes and the ability to achieve a lack of billionaires isn’t only unrealistic, but hard to even prevent.

Any raise to taxes at the highest level is usually mostly offset from real impact, or any way to make the bottom half pay less is redistributed onto them via inflation or smaller tax that equals close to prior rates. On a small scale we can see it in real time by basic budgeting, California movie producers drift more to Georgia to save cash, wealthy New Yorkers move to Florida and Texas for tax ease, and if you’re lucky enough in the PNW; you live in Idaho, work in Washington, and shop in Oregon. It’s pretty basic.

The roadblock to taxing the rich at a federal level is the same level of basic idea at the smaller level, but the complexity to pull off is insurmountable under the current system. Right now much more federal tax would make it cheaper and wiser for billionaires to move accounts to foreign countries, never realize business or holding gains, and pursue aggressive avoidance strategies based on how income is earned and allocated. The time necessary, as well as the knowledge it’s coming, would make it nearly impossible for real impact to be felt. Not to mention the reality that the lobbying and campaigning for policies in favor of wealth would be funded even more strongly.

On top of any of the complexity, there is also a moral wrong to straight up taking or taxing heavier the people who have more just for having it; particularly when well earned…even if it’s a moral wrong to have it. The ‘Billionaire’ phrasing would also have to naturally inflate over time as similar to minimum wage arguments, the ‘tax the ___’ number is pulled out of our ass ($999 Millionaires aren’t worse off). Further, the critique that innovation of the highest form decreases under a liberal tax plan isn’t false either, it’s a natural consequence to disincentivizing the strongest producers. And, because of all those reasons, any straight up wealth tax wouldn’t actually work or be impactful.

I guess when I realistically (and easily) tear down my little liberal utopian dream, it makes sense that  Republican economic plans consistently favored trickle-down styled economics. And, to be fair, the economy doesn’t not work under a Reagan-esque style; prices do stay low and the dollar value raises or holds steady. But, I also feel that trickle-down economics is an extreme acceptance of ‘tread on me’. Reaganomics accepted that the wealthiest people really sucked, and therefore if we make their life easy they’ll be able to, or more inclined to keep ours easy. As the top gets insurmountably better, you’ll also do a bit better. Clearly this isn’t the right answer either, and enough time has passed that the data proves its damage to the US economic system.

I don’t know the solution, and I think the current pace is going to have a nasty reckoning someday soon for the US and the global world. Success that generates billions in wealth is not immoral, but the Bible lays out a clear case for the immorality/sinfulness of its continual ownership. The biblical narrative of wealth is in direct opposition to the wealthiest nation on earth. While the focus of The Cure is evangelically-natured, the point it makes about dreams being lost out of constant survival isn’t a solely Christian truth, but a very natural human truth. It is biblically immoral and prescribed as such in the Bible to hold onto extreme wealth even if generating it isn’t. But even non-religiously, the crushed American Dreams of the majority of American citizens is proof enough that the system isn’t just not working, but is working for a select few.

The political solution may be hidden (full collapse maybe, likely?), but biblically-based the answer should start with wealthy Christians following the prescription of the rich man entering heaven. If billionaires can solve world hunger overnight, and Mr. Beast actually makes attempts, then imagine what Hillsong/Church of the Highlands/Bethel could collectively do. Imagine what Joel Osteen or Steven Furtick alone could do, but don’t. The cure to immoral wealth in the US is Christians actually providing the water, food, clothes, and shelter as a life calling..not showing up one night under a Portland bridge to wash feet or building a church in Honduras for a week. It’s a lifetime commitment to being the social safety net, especially if you don’t believe in one politically.

I do believe it’s immoral the be a billionaire, but even more so when the expense is a collective crushing of dreams through intense need to survive. One Nation Under God would never, nor should ever, be this wealthy and this broken.

A Mars Bar Contains:

-Sugar
-Glucose Syrup (often wheat-derived)
-Skimmed Milk Powder
-Cocoa Butter
-Cocoa Mass
-Vegetable Oil/Fat (Sunflower Oil, Palm Fat)
-Milk Fat
-Lactose & Whey Powder (from Milk)
-Fat Reduced Cocoa
-Barley Malt Extract
-Emulsifier (Soya Lecithin)
-Salt
-Egg White Powder
-Hydrolysed Milk Protein / Vanilla Extract


RFK would’ve discontinued it anyways, but God damn it sounds tasty. I’ve still never had a Mars Bar, and for many reasons I sincerely wish I was kidding.