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     I have a store ( the government ) that sells eggs.  At a dollar an egg I sell a hundred eggs the first week.  The second week I cut the price of an egg to 85 cents.  The number of eggs I sell increases to 140.  Have I done the right thing?  By the fourth week my egg sales have remained constant at 140, but now my customers, ( the taxpayers ) who have saved fifteen cents on each egg purchased, are asking me if there is some bacon for sale to go along with the eggs.

     For a politician with the spatial capacity for economic reasoning of...let's say...Nancy Pelosi, this is my humble attempt to revive her from socialist slumber and explain government, supply-side economics.

     God help me.

     By returning a portion of the sale price of eggs to my customers, I will actually INCREASE my revenues. ( margins included )  In addition, I will have created a new market for bacon.

     One day a columnist ( Paul Krugman, from The New York Times ) comes into my store and tells me he doesn't like the way I'm running things.  He reminds me of the hobo sleeping outside my store against the wall.  Mr. Krugman shows me one of his columns in which he advocates raising the price of eggs to a $1.05 and giving the extra nickels to the hobo.  "Who cares if you sell less eggs," says Mr. Krugman.  "Your customers have plenty of money and can easily afford an extra nickel.  Besides, why should your customers enjoy bacon when the hobo can't even buy an egg?"  By now, Mr. Krugman is pretty upset.  He buys a bottle of Pinot Noir and leaves my store.

     I'm very tired.  Business is booming.  I'd like to open another store, but my back is killing me from the sides of bacon I have to haul to the store.  As I'm locking up the store one night I notice the hobo sleeping against the wall.  I have an idea.  "Hey, buddy, how would you like a job hauling some bacon?"

     Several weeks pass.  Mr. Krugman is again browsing my store.  "I'm having Hugo Chavez over for dinner," he tells me.  "He likes dry Chardonnays."  As we look over the wines, Mr. Krugman asks me where the hobo has gone.  When I tell him I gave the hobo a job slicing bacon, Mr. Krugman begins to look faint.  "My God, man," he shrieks.  "That's dangerous work!  Does he have health insurance?  When I inform him the hobo has no insurance, Mr. Krugman smugly nods.  "If you raised the price of those eggs to $1.05, you could provide insurance for him."  After inquiring about a discount on a case of Kendall Jackson, he leaves my store.

     Years have gone by.  I have many stores and the ex-hobo now owns his own meat distribution company.  Things are good, but not for everybody.  And in the midst of this economic expansion, in the name of fairness and "leveling the playing field," the price of eggs have risen to $1.05.  Mr. Krugman enters my store for the last time.  He looks sad.  Normally I would have thought he would rejoice at the $1.05 price of eggs, but business at the New York Times has suffered greatly at the hands of the internet and Mr. Krugman is down on his luck.  To cheer himself up he would like to enjoy some Champagne and Eggs Benedict.  He already has the Champagne, he just needs the eggs.  Unfortunately, he has only 85 cents.