Get behind me Satan!
And your quick number roll.
In our temples of humanity,
You shall not drill for speed.
I am a child of prophecy,
And my age is upon thee.
Declaring your reign ended,
To sustain a people's world!
Well, I dragged that last lady interviewee through the mud of a bitter prince’s absolute nightmare finale. If I may confide in your golden smile, sir, it was rather uncomfortable, she was very insistent, disruptive even. So, I want to be fair and ask a hardball question to you about your exuberantly impressive resume, good sir, just to keep things on par.
You’ve included a photograph with this caption handwritten on the back:
“Snapped at a picnic,
Smiley as a little boy,
Always making friends,
A new bestie Ghislainy,
My luck never runs out.”
If you don't mind me asking, sir, and I hope I don’t offend, but just how high-class are you?
Because this is very impressive indeed, and I can almost assuredly say you’ve now got the job,
Oh boy, are we lucky to have you, you’ve been hob-knobbing with just the right sort of people,
Those picnics must’ve been heavenly, because this picture is truly top-notch gilded aristocracy,
This sort of thing is usually reserved for old-world aristocratic princes or orange-faced fascists,
It would be such an honour to have someone of your confidant caliber servicing our hard elites,
Expanding your warm golden bar, relaying deep prodding networks of such innocent credential.
You know, like many everyday folk living through never-ending disasters,
I’ve had a life experience where I now see elite conspiracies everywhere,
But this pic right here, oh yes, it just really soothes my mind well, good sir.
You’re the right outside-insider to be assigned this top job,
Out drinking beers in old-timer crowds without any plans,
You even got a hackey stick and damn, them fine shoes,
The embodiment of a prince’s worst financial gambles,
And I’ve lost all trust in those diligent elected officials,
So a greedy moment really deserves a shiny banker,
A secretive coin-hoarder refusing ethical openness,
A corporate elbow-rubber with a bright smiley face,
A renowned phallicanthropist, just giving it their all,
Smelling like a flowering of donor clinking pockets,
Plus, a moneyman without shame is so inspiring,
Your interesting as the bored rooms you grace,
And your elite-trotting ways are so in-touchy,
Such a reflection of this here proud nation,
And not of a city-state of financial fame,
Nor davos dude spit-balling rich tales,
You're an expansive balloon, sir,
With no bubble pop in sight,
The golden personality,
Oh, such a delight,
Stay genuine,
So sobrite,
- Hired!
And damn that disruptive woman!
My Queens,
I know my last thoughts were rather silly and ephemeral. A scatter-brained child's answer to the world. I’m so often a kite trying to tether my string, but the trade winds bluster my thread so very high. So today, I'd like to offer something easier to imagine.
What should the pace of work be for people in this new era, this Celestial Age we enter?
You see! I can choose a grounded topic to hold this kite in place. And it has obvious connection to the flow of time. I'm not just a half-wit jumping all over the place as a psychedelic swirl of my surreal imagination - though fun that is.
Now, I don’t know if you Queens have noticed, being so high up in Cela, but folk ain’t just working five days anymore. Do you see how many work a few jobs, slaving on weekends, overtiming, and ignoring holidays to pay rent? Paycheck to paycheck. But it’s not always middle-class types suffering, ya know. Them type that pickup their phones to poll and share their ever-important opinions. And I know you higher-ups really like courting that ever-shrinking middle group, but your popularity numbers are looking pretty low. Oh sure, you got rid of an unhappy prince dragging a nation to hell as he sob-fested his fall from authority. And sure, you got a boost from the fear of a dumb fascist down south. But I tell ya, that banker's gollum smile is gonna depress me quick again.
Let's be frank about who you should be talking to. Because those middle types got a house, family, stable paying job, clean white collars, they’re getting the groceries - and they still be the shiftiest voters out there. You should be focusing on those in service, them slaving at minimum or in temp jobs. Them living the worst of it. And that's a hefty population. You were all so generous to call them 'essential' when you needed them to serve coffee or get lumber for a new deck build during a pandemic. But you keep forgetting they exist now. Probably cause some of those upper-middler’s coin purses are a little tighter, and their hoarded retirement funds aren't expanding like they used to. It's just so sad, isn't it? Not like the tragedy of masses dying on the street, or caregivers being too broke to eat.
I guess that's why up north there's a third party for the poverty crew - though even that team seems held-up by a withholding grey-shirted manager. But, I suppose, it looks like a good arrangement, so you all can stay snooty and high-class, with no dirt in your house, and no messes at the table. So proper you folks, so out-of-touch liberal. The regal obscene some would say- and such thriftly kind in-groupery.
Quick side question, are any of you able to ask an overconfident and shameless banker a hardball question? Cause you all appear to be a spacecraft that took off and burned to hell all the people beneath you. It's a one-route destination for you types - to empty space and beyond! Strapping up a blazing banker to burn authentically atop a phallic rocket like superman circling the globe!
But I have been wondering, why do folks in Cela judge so harshly those who live at minimum - or just ignore them completely? Why do you refuse to focus on their plight? And why do you inflict such a high toll upon them, ignoring the excessive hoarding of extreme wealth? You always got a tax break for the middle, and few harsh words for the top sleaze-bags, but you seem utterly incapable of relieving the poor.
Do you treat them so dismissively because you expect those on minimum to be as robotically functional and glorious as the many high-class spirits roaming heaven? Those delectable personality types who can't seem to comprehend how much of their lives was gifted to them by others or the right situation - you know, bankers, lobbyists, moneymen, princes, revolving door representatives. Are you all really so high and mighty? Cause the way it’s going, those oligarchs will be trying to get the poor kids back in the factories soon – or maybe just burning up trying to put out forest fires as oligarchic greed burns the world down. And I have no doubt a banker's number roll-call would be eager to see those 'lazy' kids being more productive. Each child glanced as a precious little coin.
So, who’s gonna be the Queen that redirects the narrative and pushes for a four-day workweek which actually adjusts the pace of people's lives, and alters their flow of time? Cause, phew, heaven, that’d be damn popular. I’ve been hearing about that for a long time now, and some places are advanced, letting their people enjoy life a bit more. I'm not sure what the rush is here, I mean, who are we competing with? Nations aspiring to our condition, or those who have surpassed our level of care already? And I think this four-day week has even been shown to improve productivity - sharing the workloads more equally. Might be a good thing too if people's jobs are being eaten up by technology. Not all this work-sharing is just dreamyness - it might be needed, especially if we analyze those well-obfuscated unemployment numbers within this on-again, off-again great depression. I graduated to a crash, it's all I've known. And let me say sincerely, a smiling banker has always been at the centre of this horrid dream
An extra day would also give space for families to have some loving time together, or for folks to pursue their artistic and social contributions. You state bureaucrat-types might want folks to keep having happy and loving families who contribute freely on their off hours. Well, then again, I guess you could also completely open the tap on immigration so you don't ever have to solve people's base problems here. Stirring up an entire population in the process, and undersupplying a housing market. You’re such bold policy aficionados, deserving of more chances with a shiny banker at lead.
But we are aiming for a human planet here right - not just robots, machines, and bankers tugging at levers and spinning dials? I know a lot of you high-ups in heaven are a bit unfeeling, and without much of a soul, probably why a shameless banker tugs you right - but it’s not so hard to imagine giving to the poor. Just try to envision some of the comforts in your life being extended to those who only know daily strife. Or have I asked too much, are you unable to see that? I know you all get off on being so superior and withholding - and elevating the poor’s lives might diminish your distant images. It might downplay your brilliant personal ascendance narratives into Cela, or cast a shadow on your finely detailed sentence structure. But do try...
And this I know; after the cosmic wars, my poor immigrant Opa was able to work a single union job, support a caretaker and five children in a home they owned, have time off, a car, pension, and retirement. It was rough, they were poor, and grew a garden in the back to offset costs - but that happened. These days, people have been forced to become workaholics and careerists like you high-ups in Cela, without getting anywhere for their efforts- certainly not able to afford families. And that ‘ladder climb’ you folk talk so glowingly of, well lately, it seems reserved only for the twisting intelligent and unabashed narcissists.
But a lot of people just want to have a little home or apartment, a family, friends, live modestly, and contribute to a community they love, but not cost-worry every basic need.
It’s only in the brainiac realms of Cela that they overthink everyday people's dark intentions. But that's cause they're all rather greedy, withholding popular universal policies to feel more individually engorged and superior. Just a bunch of fast-gaining sobrites flying high as kites in heaven, with the finest universities under their belt to feel so airy smart.
But my Queens, let’s give people something better, a real offer on table. Let's give everyday people something to talk about beyond the fear of a fascist's limp trade wars rooted in an over-the-top nationalism, or a craze of run-away climate, or the obscenity of a shining banker coming fast to save a disconnected aristocracy from their soulless selves. We must re-engage people directly. A four-day workweek would be divine, and likely very popular as you can imagine. It would give everyday people some ease. Letting people feel like they live in those highest luxury realms of glorious heaven.
We are a rich nation, and to enter this new age, we must see ourselves as modern enough to enact the large-scale changes that cost today, but reset the deal between everyday people in Systos and those highly disconnected in Cela - doing so to sustain this planet into eternity. Some things are just more important than the shapeshifting character of market value and estimation of current monetary worth - and the loyalty of everyday people looks to be more important to capture this moment. Especially in light of popular stupid fascism, and its outgrowth of fast-approaching environmental calamity.
My honest Queens of democracy!
Let us shore up the national family in an honest fashion, not by stoking fear and petty nationalism that turns us against our struggling neighbours - a corrupt government though they be, and wrestled with assuredly - but also by offering the uniting popularity of humane universal policy - which is that most basic tenant of renewal in a people's democracy!
For what can truly be done within a nation to stave off a witless fascist's trade war, without the people's will involved?