A highly complimentary message has arrived in my Spam filter, asking if I get paid for creating the brilliant contents of this, my bogl?
The answer is no, I don’t get paid for writing these entertaining and informative articles, that I offer to the world out of sheer boredom. Why else do you imagine I am having to sell everything I own, to buy food?
It seems clear, however, from the 100% lack of interest in my lovely car, my guitars, that no-one is being paid for doing anything useful these days. You wonder what capitalism is going to have to do to survive, when there are no more consumers (other than wealthy mutts paying £1000 in Horrids’ posh-peoples’ store for fluffy, “Sarah Lund”-style embarrassing snowflakes-and-reindeer sweaters, this Christmas’s killingly funny accessory).
What they did last time the economic knicker-elastic went saggy was to cleverly invent the credit card, which replaced money as a medium of exchange for the underpaid while ensuring that the value added by charging astonishing rates of interest came straight back to the capitalists. “Plastic” took the stigma out of paying for goods on the “never-never” and kept the embarrassed lower-middle class out of the pawn shops.
Now plastic has blown up in the faces of the capitalists, “hardworking families” once again queuing in thrift shops, signing-on at food banks and popping their wedding rings, their children going to bed fashionably hungry, something new was needed to keep the wheels rotating whilst still affixed to the axles.
The answer was Direct Action: that is, more barefaced corporate theft and fraud. It seems to be filling the gaps in the economy quite nicely.