I used to work at a resort for rich people. Like Old Money RICH people. Instead of renting a wedding venue, they’d gift the venue a historically-accurate remodeling project for all of their flooring and replace their chandelier with a period piece from their collection. And then they’d get gifted a reservation. Shit like that. We’d cater for these giant parties that were just in some rich fuck’s house. Like I’d wake up, eat a grilled cheese sandwich with Kraft singles and then go serve dinner at The Kraft House, which was the summer home owned by the grandson of the dude who invented pre sliced cheese or some shit like that.
I’m going to say pretty definitively that many of these people consider their domination of the world to be a moral good. Like if they had a relative who was not participating in the cycles of wealth accumulation like everyone else, we’d pick up bits of gossip and these people were morally outraged that people were not doing their part and living up to their potential.
I lived my whole life feeling like nothing made sense and that everyone was living by these arbitrary rules that they couldn’t explain and made their lives worse. Working that job, for the first time, I saw who the rules were made for and everything clicked. It was like seeing a species in the wild that I’d only seen in captivity. By far the most radicalizing job I’ve ever worked.
Can it be a dress rehearsal?
Nathan: No, I found this Reddit post that says that’s [reads slowly, staring at phone] co-opting tankie aesthetics. So I don’t think we’re allowed to do that