When laid off, I hadn't been in Michigan long enough to qualify for unemployment. At the moment I'm an exile in my own country, scrambling for some stability. Ruthless class war has been waged on America's working people the last few decades, from both the Right and the Left. (The Left, after all, have been prime movers behind illegal immigration which has destroyed wages.) Throughout, working class writers have not been allowed to have a voice, as the way this literary movement has been treated has indicated.
Think about it. Some of the richest writers in America, led by Daniel Handler-- who's said to be worth hundreds of millions-- have spent their time relentlessly attacking one of the poorest . I own nothing-- nothing-- other than a duffle bag of clothing. My major struggle, like so many Americans-- like many underground writers-- is simply to survive. What was their motivation? To ensure that I and my colleagues have no voice. They didn't embrace dissent. They stomped on it.