Lifestyles of the rich and royal
Last Friday’s Eyrie post on the pseudo-food Our Betters are demanding we adopt (WE adopt, mind you, not them—never them) closed with this:
The moral of the story: Trust not in governments or their “experts,” for they are dishonest and motivated primarily by financial considerations. Eat what you like, with moderation, variety, and common sense always foremost in mind—ie, don’t make a pig of yourself. As a rule, your Grandma was a lot more knowledgeable and intelligent about such matters than FederalGovCo will ever be, with the added benefit of wishing only the best for you, always.
Ahh, you stammer, but…but…but Our Masters want only the best for their subjects, too! They love us and care about us and take care of us too, just like Grandma did, you scree. They’re human beings just like you and I are!, you squeal.
But is all that really true? Have a look and decide for yourself.
Now that’s what a carbon footprint looks like… pic.twitter.com/AV6i3auaHe
— 👁️BigBroKnows👁️ (@panos941)
Rest assured that there will be NO vat-grown “meats,” NO reconstituted insects, NO artificial, lab-created, or bargain-store anything at all adorning the platters in the above photo—each of which probably cost more than your car did when it was new—when dinner is served. And it’s a lead-pipe cinch that if some lowly Serf Class soul like you or I wandered into that room by mistake, armed security personnel would have you in a headlock with your arm bent up between your shoulder blades and speed-marching towards the exit quicker than you could gasp “Bob’s your uncle!” in stupified agony.
In a short story titled The Rich Boy, Scott Fitzgerald said it best:
Let me tell you about the very rich. They are different from you and me. They possess and enjoy early, and it does something to them, makes them soft where we are hard, and cynical where we are trustful, in a way that, unless you were born rich, it is very difficult to understand. They think, deep in their hearts, that they are better than we are because we had to discover the compensations and refuges of life for ourselves. Even when they enter deep into our world or sink below us, they still think that they are better than we are. They are different.
And not in a good or admirable way, either. In fact, as the last image broadly suggests, they are bipedal pigs, bloated with self-importance and unfounded conceit; blinded by their obsessive neuroses; overawed by their own putative lordliness, good taste, and superior intelligence. The world will be incalculably improved on the frabjous day when every last individual in the above picture is dangling limply by his/her/its neck from a nearby tree or lamppost.