Published on Dissident Voice, by Kathleen Wallace Peine, November 8, 2011.
I wonder what it’s like to be part of the 9 or so percent who think they are part of the 1 percent but don’t want to admit they are part of the 99 percent?
I guess to deal with the ambiguity of your situation, you throw toss down copies of applications for jobs at McDonalds to Occupy protesters in Chicago. This is exactly what traders at the Chicago Board of Trade did last week.
In a move straight from American Psycho, the snitty traders betrayed their true class. Sure, they aren’t even remotely destitute; they probably are in the high wage earning category; but the 1% …
I don’t think so. If you are in the 1% you don’t know how to run a photocopier. Didn’t you learn that when Daddy Bush was amazed by the grocery scanner, indistinguishable from magic he muttered as he thrust forth a gouty toe to be massaged.
I think perhaps this frothy mouthed group; the working gatekeepers for the 1% may be the most tragic of all the subspecies in our classless society. They presumably have been exposed to the rabble in one way or another, perhaps in small doses, and they don’t want anything to do with them. It’s frightening to the core of their egos, I suppose. Perhaps they truly do feel exalted by their important daily trades. Have they found a way to package pork bellies into some kind of toxic financial derivative? I hope so, at least in that manner the actual product would resemble its disgusting virtual value.
A week or so before, they were putting signs up in their windows stating: I am the 1% and I am paying for this. If by paying for this they mean they are dribbling paltry taxes that go to the overkill from police departments to protect their interests …
Yeah, they might be paying for that. And a damn good deal it is for them, too … (full text).