Here’s what I decided to talk about today :
From the point of view of Elon Musk and his billionaire buddies, you are poor and you always will be poor and you should be grateful you get anything at all.
How’s that feel?
Okay, clearly, I am attempting to spark middle class rage. Nothing enflames the middle class than the truth about how the rich really feel about them.
That is always the ultimate irony of “upward mobility”. To them, you thinking you can become “one of them” is like a dog thinking that if he licks his master’s hand well enough, he’ll become a person.
It uh, doesn’t work like that.
And this is true – especially true – if they started off poor or middle class themselves. To them, the whole point of working so hard to get rich was so that they could, essentially, evolve into a higher form that could truly enjoy looking back at its humble origins with the contempt they always bore for it naked and in plain view.
Oh, they will be quick to point to their humble origins in conversation but only to show off just how far they themselves have come as a way of bragging.
But you’re different, you dirt eating peasant. THEY were clearly way better than all the filthy bottoms feeders around them from the start.
YOU, on the other hand, are scum like all the rest and should know your place, and stay there, down in the gutters where your kind belong.
And you should be obsequiously grateful that the rich let you have anything at all besides their bootprint on your forehead.
As if the feculent mobs of people like you have “rights”.
And think about it. If there was someone who was always trying to get in to wherever you are, who is grateful to the point of incontinence for literally any attention you give them, who is copying absolutely everything you do, and who treats the slightest crumb that falls off your table and into their lap like it’s gold from God, what would you think of that person? Would you respect them? Love them? Think they’re great? Think that one day they could be just like you?
Or would you have nothing but withering contempt and scorn for them, and use their pathetic desire to be like you to manipulate them into capering and clowning for the amusement of you and your friends, and laugh behind their backs as how easy it is to use them to keep the peasantry in line?
You’ll gleefully sell out the interests of ordinary peasants like you just for the privilege of sitting way, way, WAY back in the same room as them and being ignored by them in person because somehow that makes you better than the rest of the stinking mob.
No, see, you’re a HOUSE slave.
No matter what you do, no matter how deep you bow when you grovel, no matter how much you bleed just to bask in their presence, no matter how many of your fellow sheep you send to the slaughterhouse, they will never, ever, ever see you as anything but a delusional sycophant lower than the dirt on their shoes.
They will always be high, high above you, laughing at you.
Unless, of course, you bring them down. After all, there’s far more of us then there are of them, aren’t they? If you band together with your fellow peasants you could pull down those ivory towers they live in and force them to come down here with the rest of the mob and get a dose of what real life is like.
Make THEM beg YOU for the slightest scrap of approval. Look down your nose at THEM. Laugh at THEIR attempts to better themselves.
Because if the people in the middle take out the people on top, well… then they’ll be the ones on top, won’t they?
How does that sound to you?
More after the break.
Karma from shawarma
Ended up getting myself some shawarma from a place called Osmow’s tonight.
Which was a bit naughty. I crunched the numbers and I can’t really afford it. To order in tonight I had to go around $10 over budget. Scandal!
But what the hell, Life is to be savored and enjoyed, not preserved for some undefined future point that will never come.
Repeat until believed. Then do it again.
I am trying to become more Mediterranean in my attitude towards life. Less ant, more grasshopper, that kind of thing.
Of course, I know I can’t actually become a grasshopper type. That is too much of a stretch. I will always be an ant at heart, with my eyes on the practical supplies and a focus on the future.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn a thing or two from the grasshoppers of the world. I know that despite my comedy and my wit and my silly foxy fursona, deep down I take things way, way too seriously and therefore I would be a lot happier if I could learn to dial things back and learn to take a more flexible, adaptable, confident in my own ability to handle things kind of attitude.
That seems way more doable than trying to control circumstances then beating myself up when I inevitably fail at that impossible task.
You also need to be able to cope. To deal with surprises in a robust and competent fashion. You can’t ever predict or control everything and for those other things you have to be able to handle shit in realtime.
And that also helps you to take advantage of opportunities when they present themselves too, and that is, quite obviously, profitable.
I recently lost out on three opportunities to get games I wanted at a price I can afford because it took me too long to actually decide to act.
And what am I so afraid of? Worst case scenario, I don’t like the game, so I return it.
I’ve certainly done that plenty of times before.
I guess it all boils down to my being afraid to truly be in the world. So I hide inside myself. And that makes it very hard to cope with life.
I should probably do something about that.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.