Archive for March, 2009

Today on my way to work I noticed a Wacky Arm-Flailing Inflatable Tube Man down the way. I call these things WAFIT Men for short. You know, those completely excessive distractions that all manner of shitty, low-rent businesses install on their storefronts hoping to attract the occasional customer wooed by bright colors? I’m certain that you can measure your quality of life by the Wafits-per-square-mile metric. More than 5 and you might as well burn your house down: it was worthless anyway.

So there he was, flailing gleefully in the morning breeze when, suddenly, he went completely rigid. Observing the surrounding area, I noted that trees were still swaying, leaves skittered along the street, and the acrid smell of jet fuel from the San Jose Airport was still wafting into my car. The breeze was still blowing yet Mr. Wafit was suddenly unaffected. He stood perfectly vertical, his arms perpendicular to his body and wearing a smile plastered to his face which seemed a hasty attempt to hide some sudden existential fear. He looked like a perverse cartoon rendition of the Vetruvian Man. I know exactly what he was thinking, too:

“Oh god, my 401k.”

I hope none of you expect to amass any sort of wealth over the next 5 to 8 years. I hope that you realize amassing any wealth in the next 10 years will be nothing less than divine providence. If your soul hasn’t been crushed under the weight of what the future world we are about to inherit looks like, allow me to help you:

20 years from now the nations of the world are fighting wars over basic necessities like clean drinking water and rice. I’ve aqcuired an assortment of respiratory disorders by inhaling the fumes which now masquerade as air. Working 70 hours a week for shit pay grants me the privilege to pay for my hyper-inflated health care costs as any patriotic American would happily do (Socialist universal healthcare coverage? Never!). I imagine that at some point, future-me is going to be struck by an acute desire to put it all on pause and go for a swim in the ocean…

But I can’t because the entire Ocean is a toxic pool of slime. That’s the moment folks: the coral are all littering the ocean like ash following a volcano and the sharks are too fucking sick to even pose a threat. That’s the moment it finally hits me that the Baby Boomers shat all over the entire world.  My government will be bankrupt after having spent $5 trillion on a war that accomplished nothing and paying off a half dozen banks as thanks for mercilessly raping the U.S. financial markets.

Where will you be? Face down in a gutter, whoring yourself, thinking of new ways to die? I’ll tell you what my last desperate act will be. My last gasping attempt to shut off my senses and pretend the world is going to get better? I’m going to adopt some African kids. I’m going to pluck them from their war-torn homes and deposit them in sunny California to contemplate their futures. As the gangs roam the streets in search of food and gasoline and America crumbles around me into a Mad Max dystopia, I’ll turn to them and say, “It’s better than Africa, isn’t it? Welcome to the land of the free, where you get to choose how to die! Good luck.” Then I’ll take my overdose of sleeping pills, wash them down with some bourbon and be done. I won’t leave a will. Sorry, kids, but you have to learn to pull yourself up by your bootstraps like our nation’s megacorporations never had to. 

In short, we are fucked. Did you hear about the $165 million that AIG is paying out in bonuses for its executives? I’d be surprised if you hadn’t, since that’s all my TV has been talking about for 3 days because it makes for great TV. “Damn you Mr. Liddy, CEO of AIG, for giving away .01% of our taxpayer funds to your cronies!”

Where’s the other 99.9% of the tens of billions of dollars we gave you? Why does no one talk about that? Because no one knows where it went. Seriously, this comparative drop in the bucket is the only concrete evidence that the billions we just wasted are being put to ANY use, not to mention a bad one. That’s all we have left, bitching about a small sliver of the money we just got hoodwinked out of. When all is said and done, we’ll probably feel mighty good about ourselves for dragging AIG in front of congress to get a good talking to. 

“We really taught them a lesson,” we’ll think, before turning the corner in our Escalades. Ooh, look! One of those simply adorable Wacky Arm-Flailing Inflatable Tube Men! Let’s buy some roller skates!

And the U.S. Economy keeps flailing and sputtering to its inevitable end. Revolution never comes. 

The End.