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Hoarding.

2000 Years to Christmas

Ten thousand dollars? Dude, no one in this hammer mill has got that kind of money. At least … not that I’m aware of. Maybe Mitch is holding out on us. (He could be a counterfeiter, actually.)

Oh, hi. Just caught me in the middle of a little negotiation. I’m trying to work out the terms on a major purchase. What kind of purchase? Well, I’ll give you three guesses. No, not a PA system. No, not a hippie van with 3-D painted plaster sunflowers sticking out all over the place. Give up? I’m trying to buy a can of soup. Yes, one can of soup. Not the greatest soup in the universe, you understand … just your basic, run-of-the-mill lentil soup, the kind mother used to make … when she made cheap-ass canned soup.

Now, I know your next question is going to be something like, “But, Joe … why in the world would a can of soup cost ten thousand dollars?” Well, friends, I’m glad you asked. You see, it turns out to be true that it’s an ill wind indeed that doesn’t blow someone some good. The current pandemic crisis may have idled millions of workers, put bands out of business, and driven legions to the brink of poverty, but for some it is proving to be some kind of libertarian capitalist paradise. Scarcity, my friends, scarcity …. just drop by the local grocery store and you’ll see what I mean. You get there early, and the hoarding geezers have already ransacked the place. (Hey, anybody who wants to use “Hoarding Geezers” as a band name can have it, my treat.)

Hazmat mill.

How will we afford $10K-per -can soup? Well, as you know, we are an idea incubator here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. We put our heads together (mind you, not too close together … no more so than six healthy feet) and came up with absolutely nothing. Then Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, announced that he had secured a deal with the regional hospitals as an overflow site. I was scratching my head over this – how could anyone think they move keep people here without making them sicker? Look what this place is doing to us! Well, it turns out they didn’t want extra space for people … they wanted extra space for medical waste disposal. Mitch is going to cash in … and we’ll have dump trucks loaded down with spent hypodermic needles backing up to the courtyard entrance.

A bunch of spent needles in the courtyard? Who would be surprised by that sight?

Political Rants

Only money.

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Sometimes I think my head is going to explode. Every get that way? It sometimes happens over stupid shit, like earlier this week when the MS Office install stopped working on my two-year-old PC, and Bill Gates’ automated tech support tried to trick me into buying a subscription to Office 365 rather than just reinstalling my Office 2016 once-and-done version. Hate when that happens, don’t you?

That’s not what really made my head explode this week. The true culprit was our ridiculous political culture – you know, the one that whines incessantly about how expensive Medicare For All will be (i.e. trillions of dollars less than what we’re spending now) but then turns around and drops two trillion dollars on saving Trump’s political bacon (they wanted to spend six trillion). Suddenly, all this money appeared out of nowhere.

And like the financial crisis, Congress’s piece is just the down payment. As David Dayen explained on Majority Report this past week, the $425 billion fund managed by Steve Mnuchin (the foreclosure king) will serve as initial capital in a Federal Reserve program that will direct more than ten times that amount towards select businesses – big banks, etc. – in the form of low-interest credit. Dayen refers to it as a money cannon, and he’s not wrong. There will be oversight in the form of an inspector general and an oversight board, but the review will be after the fact. It’s deja vu, all over again.

Sure, presumably every worker/taxpayer in America will get some kind of check. But the point is the bailout – the prole checks are just for window dressing. The bishops of austerity in the Senate are already whining about expanded unemployment benefits being too generous to people who are not working, as if there’s some moral hazard in paying people not to spread the Coronavirus. I’m not hearing them complain about trillions in public money being dropped on private enterprise, which will turn around and enrich themselves rather than use it for productive purposes, like hiring people. I’ve heard some vague hand-waving about the American people having a stake in the beneficiary industries, but this isn’t going to happen. Like the Wall Street and Detroit bailouts, there are very few strings attached to this money.

If we hand trillions of dollars out to private companies, we should own those companies. If we own those companies, we should put their workers in charge of managing them. If capitalism requires the government to resuscitate it every ten or so years with massive injections of socialism, we should start to rethink our system and, perhaps, pursue a vision of society that doesn’t entail crash-and-burn collapses every time something goes wrong … a vision that would emphasize social cohesion and a more robust approach to preparedness, involving – I don’t know – an exponentially larger number of, say, ICU beds, respirators, freaking PPE, for when the next plague comes strolling along.

We determine what’s possible. It’s just a question of political will.

luv u,

jp

Usual Rubbish

Zombie playdate.

2000 Years to Christmas

I think I saw them coming up the road, just past the post office. Did you see them, too? No? Maybe I’m imagining things. Or …. maybe you’re gaslighting me! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO HIDE! SPEAK!

Oh … hello, readers. We were just, um … going over the household accounts. Seems the electric bill is overdue again. Just like last month … and the 120 months before that. (Maybe that’s why the lights are off.) Okay, I will own up to the fact that we are getting a little squirrel-y here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, now that we’ve been ordered to shelter in place. Actually, the order doesn’t apply to us because, well … we’re not supposed to be living here, but what the law doesn’t know won’t hurt it. Still, in these plague times, it’s best to heed the warnings of public health officials. We’re masking up, donning the rubber gloves, and eating out of an autoclave.

Now, I’m not super fond of hoarders. That said, one of our number, and I’m not saying who (ahem … anti-Lincoln), came home with a boatload of canned soup, pasta, and toilet paper this past Tuesday. I know you’re going to tell me that he’s doing it for our own good, but you are so wrong, my friend – he’s keeping it all for himself. Anti-Lincoln has essentially walled himself off in the east wing of the hammer mill, cloistered in with his cache precious supplies, cackling through the brick walls at our hunger and privation. It’s not for nothing that he’s the anti-matter doppelganger of old honest Abe. I mean, think about it – would the great emancipator ever act in such a selfish way? Even when he was running for re-election?

Do not enter!

As the COVID-19 pestilence has closed in on our forgotten corner of the world, people appear to be heading for the hills. Our nasty upstairs neighbors lit out this week, lugging their high explosives and trained pole cats with them. Meanwhile, people from the low country who consider this “the hills” keep showing up at our door, seeking shelter. Some of them appear to think this is some kind of country estate, like in Boccaccio’s Decameron, where they can ride out the pestilence. They march out of the woods like zombies, hoping for a playdate, at least, if no apocalypse presents itself. We’ve stationed Marvin (my personal robot assistant) out in front of the mill as a sentry. Thus far, he has neither stopped any intruders nor invited anyone in, so on balance, I’d call that a success. (He did lose his balance once. Those gimbals need adjusting.)

Okay, well … back to the accounts. WHERE ARE YOU, YOU MISERABLE GUTTER SNIPE! I’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TO SETTLE WITH YOU!