LET ME PAINT A PICTURE FOR YOU.

     In the 18th century a relatively new and beautiful great ship named the US Opportunity separated the two great oceans, the Pacific to its west and the Atlantic to its east. When it was first christened for service it was sleek and fast-moving, riding high in the waters. Some of the crew and passengers had escaped tyranny and came together to form a more perfect union. Some of the people on board came for the adventure and riches. Some of the passengers had been there all along, hiding in the shadows, living simply off the Opportunity's natural resources—they were misunderstood, perceived as a threat, and rather than assimilated, they were nearly annihilated.
     Word spread around the world that the Opportunity offered freedom, a new life and opportunity. Many came to the Eastern seaboard through Ellis Island. Those with riches were welcomed to the top, those without riches but strong backs were put in the bottom—without comfort but with at least some opportunity. Most who came through the Pacific ports looked different and spoke a strange and unfamiliar tongue—most were put to hard work serving unfairly the other passengers.
     While many of the early passenger's traits were noble, they harbored a great deal of greed and fear. They held much resentment because they had come first—except for the natives who lived in the shadows and didn't appear cultured or civilized to their standards—the opportunities were rightfully theirs.
     Regardless of where they came from and where they positioned themselves aboard the Opportunity, as more passengers came aboard, the great vessel began to sit lower and lower in the water, it began to move slower even though it consumed more fuel. It appeared there wasn't enough resources to go around.
     Acquiring more resources required more labor. Technology that would eliminate much of the great need for manual labor wouldn't be developed before the next century, but the need for more resources was now and the short-sighted answer was to go across the Atlantic and steal or buy a nation of people who were not capable of defending themselves but capable of working hard in poor conditions without wages.
     Years later, immigrants began to arrive from the south. They too were seeking freedom and opportunity. However, many of the early passengers aboard feared the Opportunity's limited resources were being used by these late comers from the south. The early settlers saw them as suitable laborers to work in the harsh sun and, since they were accustomed to having nothing, they gave them little or nothing for their labor. But still, they were happy to just be aboard, even if not respected or treated fairly. They weren't given opportunity—they were given scraps. Many became complacent when they were eventually offered resources without performing any labor at all.
     Now the Opportunity has come to a halt and is taking on water, slipping slowly under. From the very top, the passengers couldn't see or didn't want to see that those below them were struggling, abused, bitter for their mistreatment, and the Opportunity as a whole was becoming a wreck, a derelict that took on more water than it was able to bail.
     Before the Opportunity rolls over from the weight of the idle cargo in its holes and the stuffed carrion above that gorges itself on the dead and dying, we need to make changes.
     It is not a pretty picture but it is an accurate representation of our situation. We need to lighten the load. But, before you consider tossing overboard the non-productive cargo or the fat cats, consider trimming the vessel. Plug the leaks, train the unskilled permitting them to enlarge the ship, making room for everyone and making each person a contributor to the society aboard and not a liability.

     Do these solutions seem too simplistic of an answer? You can continue to add to the load and put off a viable solution or you can—too late! Abandon ship. We have drowned beneath our debt and the refusal to see the storm as it approaches.