Those few who read my fiction generally comment on my satire. Those who actually know me might call it cynicism. Whatever one may choose to label it, it is a sense that things in our entrepreneurial world just don’t make sense. I’ve held a number of jobs in my life and have come to realize that just about all of them have a single purpose: to help those above me get wealthy. I’m a daydreamer, not a corporate climber. And yet I wonder what might happen if wealth had to face reality. A number of years ago I read about a sitting president (I can’t remember who it was, but it was before Obama) who couldn’t even guess near the price of a loaf of bread. Those above us, it seems, have forgotten what it feels like here on the bottom. When the swamp monsters move in, those of ample means don’t know what to do. Discrimination is frowned upon. Yet, clearly, they can’t let monsters be monsters. And so “Famous Neighbors” ( Defenestration )...
Blog of a struggling writer.