This is not my Christmas post
I will have an extensive post on how I lost at Christmas--and organized the means by which I failed--at another time. I just had to post this snippet from Matt Taibbi's thoroughly readable (despite the fact that it's almost entirely given over to machinations of the financial industry) Griftopia. I have been reading this book for three straight hours, with hardly a break. Taibbi is a brilliant, acerbic, unforgiving writer, this being not least evident when he is describing why people would suddenly be interested in speculating on commodities futures:
"Why not bet on something that people can't do without--like food or gas or oil? What could be safer than that? As if people will ever stop buying gasoline! Or wheat! Hell, this is America. Motherfuckers be eating pasta and cran muffins by the metric ton for the next ten centuries! Look at the asses on people in this country."
I escaped, hours ago, to read this book outside the interference of TV. Yes, you read that right. I, TrinityVixen, actually ran away from a TV in order to read--to read a book, no less! Because I'm still in Reno for the Christmas break, that meant coming down to the lobby. The people here have been, up until now, very easily ignoring me. My spluttering mirth has upset this peaceful live-and-let-live, alas.
I was planning on going to bed in half an hour. I may have to just finish this book. (It's not long.)
"Why not bet on something that people can't do without--like food or gas or oil? What could be safer than that? As if people will ever stop buying gasoline! Or wheat! Hell, this is America. Motherfuckers be eating pasta and cran muffins by the metric ton for the next ten centuries! Look at the asses on people in this country."
I escaped, hours ago, to read this book outside the interference of TV. Yes, you read that right. I, TrinityVixen, actually ran away from a TV in order to read--to read a book, no less! Because I'm still in Reno for the Christmas break, that meant coming down to the lobby. The people here have been, up until now, very easily ignoring me. My spluttering mirth has upset this peaceful live-and-let-live, alas.
I was planning on going to bed in half an hour. I may have to just finish this book. (It's not long.)