Cheap credit helps us to unsee the decline of the West … capitalism can not deliver the goods with pirates scraping off whatever cream there is.
Stuff is about lifestyle and not life … it might as well be Soma.
Low productivity and limited resources, environmental degradation and an economy built on a shed load of low paid service jobs and a few high paid “wealth-creators” is a choice we make … in a few weeks time for fuck’s sake … but immigrants are what matter, unless of course they’re drowning because of our “humanitarian” wars and penny pinching nastiness, in which case they don’t. Prudence is what matters unless we’re handing over the state to asset-stripping gougers who will just make us pay and pay and will treat their employees as zombie zero-hours-wage slaves. The deficit is what matters unless it’s just a fucking pretext for robbing and disempowering us and enriching more parasites. And anyway, if I owned a house, I’d be rich … so I’m all right. Except I’m not …
and the things that we could be doing to make the world a better place, a fairer place, a kinder place, a warmer place, a more beautiful place are just too expensive — we cannot subsidise our souls but we can “invest” in our dividends. We must not be seduced by wishful thinking, we must reclaim the sensible middle ground … that is fast disappearing and is mean and narrow and selfish and hard … and full of fear too.
Fuck, I (almost) give up …
But not quite.
And Mr Warhol is not feeling the pressure I fear — but I try.