If I told you, right now, that I didn't work anymore, that my rent and bills and food were being paid every month because other people had to go out and work themselves to death to support me, you would be sickened. Well, I sure as shit would hope that's how you would feel about me, at least. If not, what are you still doing reading my crap?
If I explained the situation in the simplest details, that X number of other people had to sign a contract with me. A contract that would financially ruin them if they broke said contract, a contract that pinned X number of other people under the wheel and chained them to a life time of modern serfdom and wage slavery, so that I could live work free. You'd call me a miserable slaver, a malcontent who obviously had no regard for his fellow human beings.
If I explained that I owned excess property, extra house(s), extra plots of land, that were left to me by my parents, and that I decided to rent them out at exorbitant rates while making other human beings jump through hoops, deciding to weed out any and every one I didn't like the fucking look of from being able to be gifted with the luxury of forking over the majority of their income to me, you would wonder when the powers that be would be coming by to put an end to my miserable bigoted extortions.
A news media article read "Eviction moratorium killing the last vestiges of the middle class."
If the fucking landed gentry, if the spoiled middle children of American history, are all that's left of the middle class, well fuck me kids, we're done.
Eat your land lord.