New York Times

     Homo sapiens become rich because Homo sapiens are greedy. 

Is there anyone on the planet left who does not believe the rich are anything but ordinary. The rich are thieves, and they know it. They will kick your ass if you dare to articulate any ziggy signs of human lucidity. And Homo sapiens kill one another and make money at it. The rich are mean. Ask anyone who has ever worked for them cleaning up the mess. They do whatever they want because they can. I cannot tell you what I really think. I get kicked off this platform. I insinuate. Gatekeepers frown. So yesterday. The issues are class and power. I am a Marxist. Begin again. Owners. Workers. Tension. Suspicion. Animosity. Burn out. I listen when the bourgeoisie tell me all about the next mountain of stuff they’re going to buy and they can’t wait. They want a new car, a new loan, a new phone, and a new gun times ten. The neurological list goes on. I listen when the badly educated rich talk about how to save themselves from taxes. “But,Tim, you don’t know any rich people.” How would you know that. Try asking rich people who they ripped off this week, and how do I get invited to these fundraisers. I have three dollars and one dime. No credit cards. No debt. Drives a dirt bike. I ate the cigarettes. Rich people will shiver their rich timbers. Who has the nut. Who has the nut. I know. It hurts. Marx was right. Deal with it. His house had mice. Marx never drove a car. He would not ride a horse. Karl Marx rode a donkey. He walked the walk. His historical deconstruction of capitalism waging battle with the super wealthy, at that, in today’s standards developed by the Bureau of Standards, these men had more money than 33 countries combined. They owned the water rights, the mineral rights, the anthropology rights, the film rights, the lawyer rights, the gasoline station rights, and candle set rights used by the military. No one really knew what to do with the middle class who owed the whole meatloaf to ATM (the kind we robbed) machines so prolific, they were in every toilet stall on the block. It was very lucrative. Most homo sapiens cannot resist. Free money. What the fuck, I could certainly use money, too, and a lot of it. ATM machines gave you free money. If you fucked with the software (I would never ever, ever do such a thing). Hard labor swing what dick in rock quarries on cold cement floors and the screaming never stopped from the echo of the cages where such bird people fought being farmed, fucked, raped, lab rats, and lament. “You’re the people who are mainly failures. All of have is that ability to get what you want because the lot of you have failed — even in the dark — the old people are dead. I will be dead soon enough. Why prolong the agony. My many personalities, are in utter chaos, oh, for Christ sake, I know all of my past lives, and just fuck me, just fuck me, I spent the night at the ancient Karl Marx house. It was so depressing. Old London murmurs with a subliminal humming in the background where a ship was traveling on the Thames, a wake of blood because India had imploded into the earth. The Pacific Rim Of Fire had expanded, and the ocean was able to eat up the beaches about a foot a year. Everyone with a coast was watching the sea around them beginning to eat everything we knew. As real. Another brick in the wall, and another brick in the wall, and the fucking wall has won. We had signs, and they had guns. One of the ghost shadowfingers playing birds of prey upon the wall, we are another animal, another species that ill breeds us in tickey tacky flamingo dancers tap dancing on the top of the surface of the sea in seas.