By Matt Underwood When oil prices go up, the notion is that “we make a lot of money.” This statement, when examined closely, reveals a significant disconnect between the speaker’s perceived beneficiaries and the reality faced by most people. The immediate question that arises from such a declaration is a simple yet profound one: who exactly constitutes this “we”? It’s a question that echoes the sentiment of an observer pointing out the stark contrast between enjoying wealth and the suffering of millions facing an “acute affordability crisis that has the potential to ruin lives.” The implication is that while some may be “making bank,” the broader picture is far from “everything is going great.”
The sentiment behind the statement suggests a worldview where economic gains are narrowly concentrated. For a significant portion of the populace, the idea of rising oil prices directly translating into personal profit is met with a bewildered incredulity. The observation that “99.9% of folks in our nation is not included in ‘we'” underscores this point. It highlights the perception that the benefits of increased oil prices are not shared equitably. Instead, the statement appears to be a candid, albeit insensitive, admission that the gains are earmarked for a select few, often referred to as “rich friends” or “cronies.”
This perspective also draws a parallel between the speaker’s logic regarding oil prices and other essential commodities. By this same rationale, one might expect fervent cheers for escalating food prices or the rising cost of any necessity. However, this line of thinking seems to elude those who might otherwise rally behind such pronouncements, particularly when these same rising costs directly impact their daily lives. The criticism suggests a fundamental misunderstanding or deliberate disregard for what is truly important to the majority.
Furthermore, the statement invites scrutiny by contrasting it with past actions and pronouncements. The question arises: if high oil prices are beneficial, why has there been a consistent attack on political opponents regarding the very same issue for years? This apparent hypocrisy fuels frustration and a sense of being misled. The accusation of being an “idiotic hypocrite” stems from this perceived inconsistency, leaving many to question the sincerity of the speaker’s economic pronouncements.
The definition of “we” becomes the crux of the issue. It is not the common man, not the average citizen, but rather a specific circle, often described as “his rich friends” or “the billionaires.” This distinction is crucial because it frames the discussion not around national prosperity, but around the enrichment of a privileged few. While these individuals profit, the broader population is left to “pay the bill of the high costs” associated with increased energy prices, from gasoline at the pump to heating homes.
There’s also a darker implication, suggesting that such pronouncements might be connected to geopolitical maneuverings. The idea that “we mean Russia” or that the speaker and their allies are making money, potentially even exacerbating conflicts, to achieve these profits, paints a grim picture. The suggestion that the “half started the war, knowing what would happen” points to a cynical exploitation of global events for personal financial gain, a scenario that is antithetical to the welfare of ordinary citizens.
The speaker’s focus on personal enrichment and that of their associates is further emphasized by the contrast between their supposed gains and the struggles of the general public. This disparity is often highlighted with examples of lavish spending, like “Hegseth spending $7 million on lobster,” which speaks volumes about the perceived lack of concern for the well-being of the nation. The characterization of such actions as the behavior of “greedy little shits” who “line your own pockets and fuck everyone else” reflects a deep-seated frustration with perceived avarice.
This insular definition of “we” extends beyond immediate financial circles. The notion of “My rich friends” or “the Epstein class” being the beneficiaries underscores the idea that a select, often morally questionable, group stands to gain. The speaker’s supporters, the “MAGA” crowd, are repeatedly told that they are not part of this inner circle. They are the ones who “have to ‘suck it up'” while others reap the rewards. The repeated betrayal, such as the promises of tariff revenues that vanish when inconvenient, leaves them feeling excluded and exploited.
The lack of personal benefit for the average person is a recurring theme. A non-American observer, for instance, questions their own financial gains, noting instead the increased costs for fuel and anticipated rises in food prices. The absence of a deposited “check for these oil profits” leads to the conclusion that the statement is merely a “Trumped up thing to say.” The disconnect between the rhetoric of shared prosperity and the lived experience of financial strain is stark and undeniable.
Some interpretations even extend “we” to include figures like “Trump and Putin,” suggesting a collusion that benefits both entities. The idea that individuals, particularly at an advanced age, continue to amass wealth to such an extent is questioned, bordering on being labeled a “fucking mental illness.” The beneficiaries are identified as “the oligarchs that bought him the presidency,” and a stark contrast is drawn between them and the “MAGA” followers who may mistakenly include themselves in this “we,” despite being “scorched at the pump and in the grocery store.”
The inherent flaw in the statement lies in its selective and self-serving definition of “we.” It implies a system where rising costs for the many translate into profits for a few, an arrangement that is neither sustainable nor equitable. The notion that “the ‘we’ is not you or i” is a clear and consistent message from those observing this phenomenon. The repeated emphasis on “at our expense” highlights the parasitic nature of such pronouncements, where the gains of one group are directly subsidized by the financial burdens of another.
Ultimately, the statement “When oil prices go up, we make a lot of money” is a thinly veiled admission of prioritizing the financial interests of a select group over the well-being of the broader populace. It exposes a worldview where economic hardship for some is an opportunity for profit for others, a sentiment that stands in stark opposition to the principles of inclusive prosperity and societal well-being. The continued questioning of “who ‘we’?” and the subsequent revelations about “his cronies” and “oil companies” only serve to further solidify the understanding that the benefits are not widespread, but rather a concentrated gain for those already at the top, often at the direct expense of everyone else.