The Legal Robbery You Never Voted For
Scene: The Alibi Room, early morning glow barely peeking through grimy blinds.
Coffee’s replaced the shots, but Carl’s still on his crate, fired up like he just cracked a city budget report and found a murder weapon.
Behind him, a fresh whiteboard reads: “TIFs: The Legal Robbery You Never Voted For” in all caps, underlined five times.
Carl Gallagher’s Fourth Lecture: “TIFs: Tax Trickery for the Rich Folks’ Playground”
Okay. You wanna know the most evil genius move since Frank fake-married that dying cancer patient for her social security?
Tax. Increment. Financing.
TIFs.
Sounds boring, right? Like city hall paperwork or whatever. But this—this is how rich people use your neighborhood like Monopoly while actin’ like they’re “revitalizin’” it.
Step 1: The Setup – “Blight” It So They Can Bite It
First, the city declares a neighborhood “blighted” or “underdeveloped.” Like, oh no, the sidewalks are cracked! Quick, call in the investors!
They use this label to say, “Hey, this place needs help.” So they create a TIF district. It’s like drawing a box around your hood and sayin’—all the extra tax money made inside this box? We’re keepin’ it right here. Sounds fair? It ain’t.
Step 2: The Skim
Normally, when your property taxes go up (which they will, thanks to development), that money’s supposed to go to schools, fire stations, street repairs—all the basics, right?
But in a TIF district? That extra tax money gets diverted. It don’t go to public schools or libraries. It goes into a private pot controlled by the city—or some development board full of suits. They say it’s for “improvement projects.” But guess what those projects are?
Not youth centers.
Not affordable housing.
Not fixing the leaky-ass gym roof at the public school.
Nah—they build luxury condos, office towers, fancy-ass Starbucks plazas.
Step 3: The Transfer
Developers roll in with shiny plans and buzzwords like “mixed use” and “urban vibrancy.” City says: “Here, take $30 million in TIF funds!” It’s public money—your money—handed to private developers to build sh*t you can’t afford.
They say it’s “spurring growth.” But it’s like fertilizing a lawn with someone else’s groceries—you grow green, but the neighbors starve.
Step 4: You’re Priced Out of Your Own Block
Now the taxes rise, ’cause the “property value” of your hood just shot up thanks to that smoothie bar and the yoga loft. But none of that new tax money helps you. You’re still dodgin’ potholes and your cousin’s school still got asbestos in the walls.
Eventually? Your landlord jacks up rent. You move out. They replace you with a tech dude who pays $3,000 a month to live in a “micro-loft” with a kombucha tap.
Final Twist? You Never Got to Vote on It
You didn’t vote to make your block a TIF. You didn’t approve the spending. But your neighborhood got reshaped, your rent went up, and your public services got ghosted.
That’s the game. TIFs are just a slow-motion eviction plan dressed in development buzzwords.
Carl steps down, wiping his hands like he just exposed a crime ring.
Summary (Carl-style):
“TIFs? That’s when they steal your taxes, build sh*t you can’t use, and call it ‘progress.’ And you never even got a say.”
Lip is already googling TIF maps on his phone. Kev pours a beer in Carl’s honor. V mutters, “We should run for office.”
Frank sits up and goes, “They pulled that TIF crap back in ’86. I burned down two pop-up wine bars in protest.”