Them. And us. Useless people just under the minimum age for useless people clocking in at around a century. If you step just outside of the Hamptons bubble, you will miss the party conversation about how much these people contribute to society. Where is Truman when we need him. Capitalism is government. Capitalism is religion. Capitalism is morality. Capitalism is ethics dripping in bling. Capitalism will save us. From what. From whom. From the French. The French did it. It’s all their fault. We were never greedy little mammals before the French arrived and said: Look at what we did. We peeked behind the curtain. Heads. It was a culture of heads. Are Hamptons champagne parties a culture. Have we imbued them with a strange take on romanticism. These are the people we bow down to. Dreaming we can be them. They have Robespierre. We have Marjorie Taylor Greene. She’s not French but she could be. If only Georgia could be the Hamptons. Why do all of these people appear to have stepped right out of 1982. Only, this time, for this photograph, they’re looking old and dated. And skin tight as a Walmart door knob. I am thrilled beyond belief that the New York Times brings us the Real News. Stop bringing us war. We want champagne. Free Justin. More champagne. It’s exhausting looking at all the secrets on one patio pool party with dogs in a blanket and whiskey sours. Step back. And then step back again. My neighbors live in a car deep into the woods that is up on cinder blocks.