But if you're the guy who empties the slot machine, you won't:
Casino Rama has pumped $1-billion into dozens of Ontario native bands over the last decade, but tracing that cash is like chasing lightning.
Most taxpayers, including First Nations people themselves, don't get to see yearly audits accounting for how Rama cash is spent across the province.
They're kept under wraps by a small board of native directors who say they're accountable only to the government and chiefs.
Public spending watchdogs have demanded more scrutiny to ensure Rama cash meets its original purpose: to help 134 native bands out of sometimes bleak poverty and promote self-sufficiency.
Why the secrecy?
“First of all, it's not the taxpayers' money, it's First Nations' money,” says Steve Williams, spokesman for the Ontario First Nations Limited Partnership.
The oversight agency, created as part of a complex deal with the province, has a board of four directors appointed by major provincial native organizations and one independent. It distributes and tracks Rama payments to Ontario bands.
“Why would we account for money that belongs to us?” Mr. Williams asked.
“We don't tell GM (General Motors): ‘You made this much money. Tell me if you're getting value for your money.'”
A spokeswoman for the Ontario government says there are enough safeguards in a system that relies on a mediator — and ultimately the courts — to settle disputes.
Where do you think the money's going? Into the pockets of the band chiefs and their cronies, as usual.
If the books ever get opened on Casino Rama, there won't be enough space in Caledonia to hide the fugitives who've been skimming the proceeds.
And we'll all be told that requesting basic financial disclosure is a racist act.
Would that we could be as irresponsible with our money, with equally little consequence to ourselves.
Source: Globe and Mail