From my food stamp days, now some 30-40 somewhere years later, thanks for the gift which was so necc. Once back out on the sidewalk with worries where my next quarter gallon of gas was going to come from, the movie show to have a respite from stern lectures I did not deserve, or deserve three hours rather than two, some nights, being in a very small square footage living area and in the corner on a mattress behind my privacy wall of another mattress, or the equivalent, the taxpayer would be paying for spending more unhealthy and wasteful than the taxpayer would choose. Surmising from here, half of recipients non-transparency as to the continuation of the program, irrevocably. Like the THING tadpole that would refuse to turn into a frog and thrive on kudzu until the southeast USA would be evacuated due the symbiotic relationship between the two. OR an equivalent scenario. But that's just me.