Tag: Class

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Aesthetics Politics Startups Travel

Day 1909 and All The Twinks Standing In The Line For The Bathroom

I am not an early riser, especially not when I’m out late for happy hours and dinners and the like. So I wasn’t planning on being at the 8am opening for the conference I’m attending in D.C amongst all the side programming.

I had a ten thirty talk I was particular excited to listen to as it was most salient to my work in artificial intelligence policy. Well, that was a dumb decision on my part. Not to arrive earlier.

I’ll take full responsibility for being a moron on that front, but I stood amongst a gaggle of gorgeous well dressed, well groomed and bright eyed young men hungry to build the world of the future. What a crowd of young people.

Being a chatty Cathy I asked about vintage Barbour jackets, bulldog ties, pocket squares, the merits of gel versus more advanced soft hold hair products, the declining quality of Moscot eyewear and other important topics to ambitious young men who are looksmaxxing to win the great game.

I didn’t have much else to do as the line was not moving. No one was getting in. Until people left no one was getting off the line. And that included others who had already been in and had their passes. The hottest ticket in town was perhaps a bit over capacity.

Someone rolled out a portable Starlink and we all piled in to tweet, chat, roll calls and (in my case) send tweets, Signal messages, and Slack channel responses. I got told my tweet about the two hour wait wasn’t ideal so I deleted it as I appreciate any attention to me running my mouth as I assume no one ever listens to me. I barely do.

But maybe I’m wrong? Last night checking into Butterworth’s, the woman manning check-in in lit up when I gave my name “I love your Twitter!” So maybe people do notice what I say. I still find that an a funny notion.

That said, it did take the full two hours to get into the giant event hall which made all the rush and planning a laugh. More people left the line and went back to work than stayed at 10am but everyone determined to participate seemed to make the best of it.

I asked if this was normal for a DC event and no one seemed to be from DC. So I didn’t get any good answers. This was an unexpected wrinkle that the venue was full was full up as an enormous crowd circled the block twice.

Since we remainders had decided to make the best of it we got to know each rather. Every man was quite a gentleman as we chatted oblivious to status till we were let in and others let us all know the pecking order. One of the young men I spent my wait, who is I learned later was literally the heir to one of the most important fortunes on the planet. Another was launching containerized autonomous weapons.

But that time of work and waiting was rather like being on an elevator stuck together, we might as well get to know each other. We are all equal before a tough door.

Thankfully we did get into the room before Jamie Dimon spoke. And he was the big boss of the handsome executive crowd.

I titled this “all the twinks standing in line for the bathroom” as yes a lot of handsome queer men were in attendance. But twink is an all purpose gender fluid aesthetic and not reflective of anyone’s sexual preferences.

And the line for the men’s y was a lot longer than the women’s. Ten to one ratios make me think this would be quite the dating scene for the ambitious woman.

But yes there are a lot of very well groomed young men in Washington D.C and everyone wants to build solutions for America. And being beautiful doesn’t hurt. To my single lady have you consider meeting a man in DC? Good odds and I doubt even a fraction of the twinks are gay.

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Travel

Day 1906 and Woo Spring Break

Starting a journey from a small regional airport subsided by billionaires is the way to go when airports are understaffed for lack of pay.

A partial shutdown of the Department of Homeland Security means the TSA isn’t getting paid because of a lack of agreement on annual appropriations from Congress.

You may dislike the TSA, but most Americans are sympathetic to the pain of missed paychecks. And if you are headed somewhere for spring break you will feel their pain as the lines through security are getting worse and worse at the major hubs.

Getting out of Bozeman was a breeze. Sure my first flight was 8am but that’s the second round of flights for the day. Chicago O’Hare on the other hand, was a bit more chaotic.

The Dinosaur is a hockey fan

Families with multiple children hoping for quality time together on their spring break looked exhausted coming through the security lines.

Little girls pulling sparkling backpacks behind them on the ground or riding dinosaur shaped luggage tugged by their exhausted parents clogged the tight “under construction” hallways.

My flight to Washington D.C. didn’t have as many kids as I would have expected. Maybe touring our national monuments isn’t as exciting as going to Disneyland.

Co-branding for citrus 🍊not history

The original gate was reallocated to an Orlando based flight and based on the number of families with three kids headed to Florida our natalism issue isn’t so bad among the six figure vacation set.

The workers that keep Disneyland the happiest place on work might be struggling with other issues based on the terrifying bathroom signage. I wonder if the men’s bathrooms have these signs

Servile marriages?

May you all enjoy spring break without weather delays, labor issues, geopolitical conflict, or basic operational problems like crew and aircraft shortages as reset flight legs and fuel costs begin to get in the way.

I’m looking forward to getting to the capital. Maybe I’ll see more spring breakers at the Smithsonian. Just deposit your cannabis if headed to a destination where it’s illegal.

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Culture Internet Culture

Day 1902 and Cynical Victories for Hollow Lies

I know it’s sweet bordering on stupid to engage in good faith when it comes to politics, but maybe I’ve grown soft in my old age. I really do believe that Americans are capable of building wide coalitions in a pluralistic society.

Call me naive but most Americans, even most humans, have more to bind us together than to break as apart. We are social animals even the most introverted of us.

So I hate seeing groups who share common values fall apart over schismatic propaganda pieced together explicitly to worsen your weaknesses and widen your vulnerabilities till you are both tied to horrors you’d never have condoned.

The trouble with Utilitarians is they say up front that the ends justify the means. Thats your starting baseline. Which is at least clean. Then the Machiavellian’s say it’s alright to obfuscate. The noble lie and all. And then suddenly the enemy is inside your gates and you are being gutted.

This is roughly what is occurring between Bannon-world who hates technology so much they have accidentally teamed up with a gaggle of one world government rationalists to…use zoning rules to save the world from…industrial parks with rack servers?

I know it doesn’t sound very sinister but everyone involved is sure the anti-Christ is going to be involved. Peter Thiel is in Rome giving lectures so the buggy man has involved.

Folks must enjoy being useful idiots as it’s strange to me to think you might align with people you loathe just to fuck up the other team. The goal is flourishing for all no? You came at me and my boys for whom all I wish is flourishing.

Which is funny as I was always under the impression that end times eschatology required the Antichrist to be quite well liked. Everyone involved in this is universally despised.

I guess if you are certain that you are in danger of being stomped out by an evil, and believe any of your actions are justified by this premise, you may as well embrace all kinds of evil.

But you do have the options of not using millenarian tactics to scare the shire. Hobbits are brave or so said the neomonarchist who can’t tweet. But I won’t forget people who threw me over for propaganda they were too dim to understand or cynical enough to believe no one else would.

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Aesthetics

Day 1894 and The Middle Market Sales Reinforcement Dilemma at Sephora

Psychologists can argue until they are blue in the face about the appeal of Veblen Goods or that value can be demonstrated by price point, but veteran retailers know that everyone likes a good deal.

Rich or poor, young or old, oligarch or peasant, the shopkeeper knows the mind of the buyer requires we feel like we are getting more than we paid. This has some downstream consequences.

Retailers try to avoid degrading their price points and brand reputation with tactics like percentage off sales. And they can be clever about it. There are seemingly innumerable shopping holidays now where you can play with merchandising, special collections, loot boxes and creative value presentation.

Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Single’s Day, Christmas in July, Prime Day, Fukubukuro (福袋) Lucky Bags, and Lunar New Years are just some of “tentpole” shopping holidays around the world that provide merchandising opportunities and encourage taking a look at what is on offer.

Yet somehow the middle market of mass retailing is still struggling with how to manage sales. If you train your customers to expect a deal, and worse if they expect it at a regular time and frequency, what will make them shop in between those opportunities? Mall brands regularly get trapped by sale training behaviors

I’ve been watching Sephora go from a twice a year sale brand to trying their hand at daily drops. It seems as if they are going the Ulta route in the hopes of driving more purchasing at lower price points. Drive repeat purchasing at higher frequency and it might work.

However the average order volume has to be going down. I wonder if they have no choice having re-oriented the brand down market to attract younger buyers during the Sephora Teen pandemic era. But we are no longer in stimulus spend era and I imagine this is alienating to their older upper market customers. I’ll be watching it.

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Aesthetics Politics Travel

Day 1891 and So Much for Santorini or Status Hierarchies for Abundant Ages

If you watch me closely (which would be weird but I make it easy enough) you have surely noticed I spend much of my life traveling.

I’ve got no training in psychology but it sure seems like a certain personality type takes their childhood traumas and does exposure therapy till it becomes enjoyable.

I had intended for another trip to the general Mediterranean area in the spring to see family and work undisturbed by the American media timezone distractions. Now I am unsure if that will be feasible.

I am guessing that the sort of people who go to Sicily, Santorini and Cyprus to soak up the sun may find this Iranian conflict putting a wrench in their island hopping. Where will they go instead? Cartel wars bleed into the Caribbean and Bitcoin zillionaires setting up economic zones might make other things tricky. And oh the fuel costs will be ruinous.

War certainly makes me reconsider standard air bus style flying near any seas that connect to conflict areas but not too long ago I sat in a Turkish airport where “final boarding for Damascus” went over the loud speaker so maybe I’m making too much of it. Though I’m glad I enjoyed Istanbul over the winter as anything bordering Iran is now unnecessary risk.

For a world where speculative fiction bull case for artificial intelligence wiped off billions in market capitalization, we sure aren’t taking very seriously the kinetic effects of extreme uncertainty and change. Well, ironically maybe Pete Hegseth might be.

If we do make it through the Jackpot to the other side of the singularity, or just through this regional war situation, I would bet humans will find ourselves getting back to status hierarchies and power games.

If all our consumption needs are met, there will always be hierarchies. Wait your best friend summers in Block Island too? Or are those the Finnish slides from the Comme des Garçons show? Let me just call up “insert social scene’s patron billionaire” as everyone is headed to Big Sky for fresh powder this weekend.

It’s endlessly that sort of thing if you are inclined towards Bourdieu’s Distinction: a social critique of the judgment of taste. If class predicts taste then we mimic the taste we think we ought to have to be a certain kind of person. I came across a sweet hand illustrated essay on the matter recently.

If we can have anything we like, then taste becomes finer and finer grained. The rich know this already and the rest of us just might find out if we survive to an abundance era. And as I’d like to do that maybe I be reconsidering heading out to sea. Caribbean, Ionian, Bosphorus or otherwise.

Categories
Preparedness Travel

Day 1879 and Costco versus Cartels vs The State

I have more than one founder in my portfolio who has struggled with basing their businesses in America because U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services is barely functional. My own family has been affected on the personal front.

I’m proud America is so desirable a destination. But we can’t be such a dysfunctional one. That makes me feel shamed. I want us to bring the best and brightest here to build.

I’ve never felt such patriotism as we begin to invest in industry and energy again. The America that makes it to its 250th birthday is at another turning point. When hasn’t she been?

My phone showed me memories of the last big birthday trip we took with my father for his 80th. He passed this year. Smiling photos of my brother and I and our spouses with my father a little bemused but happy to be in Puerto Vallarta.

It was cheap boomer luxury provided by a Costco vacation plan. Today the Costco in Puerto Vallarta is on fire. Cartel infighting they say. That detente is done

The last time I saw a Costco on fire my hometown lost a third of its housing stock in a freak prairie fire. In a sick twist of fate those homes housed scientists who did work on weather stations and forecasting work for NIST, NCAR and NOAA.

One of my friends owns an Airstream which they use to go from job to job. They park it in front of their home. A elderly neighbor called in a complaint.

Despite many destitute disorderly trailers and tents on sidewalks, now my friend is the one to get ticked and towed from his own parking spot. A simple ordinance broke and now it’s a fight with the city.

Rentals sit in an uneasy tension with elderly populations sitting housing wealth. They rent their second homes whose property taxes haven’t been reappraised for decades to those of us who might appreciate an opportunity to arbitrage one home’s desirable location for ski season for a break in the winter.

Freedom to transact with one’s own property in an era where property tilts to the elderly feels uncertain. The struggling homeless can’t be moved, but the legal tenant can’t park his van in front of his own home. In Airbnbs they don’t want you to stay more than 14 days. I guess that’s when you get squatters.

I want our institutions to function. I want a viable state capable of doing the business of its citizens. Instead it’s renter classes and public employee unions and right outside (and inside too) our borders we see corporations, crime syndicates and subsidies for the thee and not me for me. Normalcy bias until the Costco is on fire. And then we forget all over again.

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1878 and Checking Into Hotel California

Yesterday I was on about the “ride share” and gig economy intermediaries, but today it’s the “home share” economy. The short term rental world of permanent vacation properties amid a housing crisis for the rest of us.

Having had a streak of bad luck at hotels in California I am back to my old faithful of Airbnb. Except I seem to have accidentally checked myself into Hotel California. It’s such a lovely place.

But everyone else here is a Boomer but me. I’ve not seen any children or grandchildren. Everyone is over sixty. It’s a heaven ban paradise for those who can afford to live a permanent coastal lifestyle. And for those of us who can rent it for a few days on business.

The Airbnb is in a large complex that is above a stretch of beach one can hike down to for walks. Nearby amenities are yuppie in nature with bistros, coffee shops and Pilates studies. While it is easy driving to its most proximate big city, it doesn’t feel like anyone is going to an office in this suburb.

The Airbnb is run by a management company seemingly owned by an enterprising woman who got prime real estate when rates were lower. I deduced this by scraping all her listings and when they first went online.

I doubt she is interested in letting her investment properties take any damage as no one under 25 is allowed to book and she explicitly states that “it is not child proofed” so you are liable for any issues. Which would explain the demographics.

This is a place for adults, and more specifically adults who have the freedom to work where and when they like.

Or perhaps more accurately are not obliged to work any longer. What a seductive life to live. No wonder there are so many slim, fit, smiling Patagonia swaddled mature people.

“Hotel California” is, according to the Eagles’ Don Henley, a metaphorical song about the dark side of the American dream, particularly the excess and decadence of 1970s Los Angeles. Via Wikipedia

It’s definitely not a Margaritaville sort of place. With koi ponds and soft beiges and tasteful landscaping, it’s too costal grandmother in its aesthetics. But it is certainly decadent. Maybe the American dream of thirty year retirement is the decadence they warned us about in Hotel California. It’s not that they can’t check out. It’s that they won’t.

If you walk among the promenade that overlooks the ocean, you will notice many of the townhomes have signs in their windows advertising their management company. It is all second homes and beach cottages and handled by professionals.

If it weren’t a gate community with guards and a lot of security cameras I’d honestly be terrified to advertise that folks might not be home. But then again, what is anyone going to steal that these denizens can’t easily replace?

They sold out the future already. The thieves are inside the complex. It’s the rest of us looking in who should wonder why it is that no one can check out. It’s just such a lovely place.

Categories
Aesthetics Culture Politics

Day 1876 and Phantom Futures Past

It’s just clear that some people are enabled to bigger, better and faster output thanks to rapidly advancing tools coming from the foundation model companies.

Will Manidis is on hot streak of essay writing (aided by artificial intelligence in the best way) and has produced thought provoking writing at a great clip. I love nothing more than seeing an exited founder feel free to express their views at their fullest. I’ve written about his essays in the past and suggest following him.

Today he wrote about visiting Oman and his reflections on its transition to a modern state by a singular leader choosing a third way way of building rather the binary choices other nations seem to have made between of annihilating the past for the future or total preservation of a way of life that no longer functions.

“I left with an unsettling feeling that I had seen a vision of the future that I wasn’t supposed to see. A country that had gotten extraordinarily wealthy but stayed coherent to its pre-industrial identity—a country that didn’t turn into a museum, didn’t paralyze itself in amber, but became a modern, functioning, wealthy nation that did not feel like it had been strip-mined of itself by the money.

In the West, we really have convinced ourselves there are only two options for our post-economic future. You can be Shenzhen or you can be Athens. … Shenzhen is the city that chose money over place so completely that it deleted itself.

…Athens is the opposite failure, and I say this as someone who is at least Greek enough that I feel like I won’t offend anyone. Athens chose place over money so totally that the city itself is a mausoleum”

A photo from Will’s tweet essay on visiting Oman

I don’t know much about Oman and I make no claims to understanding its politics or histories but I too think about what we lose without a sense of place but am also fascinated by the liminal zones of the hyper future set against a past we are actively forgetting. And no nation is immune from this process.

I do however have two books to recommend if the topic of place, continuity and the future interests you. One is a work of fiction and one a photography compendium whose forward was written by my favorite author.

Photographer Greg Girard’s work documents Asian cities in transition, especially Shanghai and Kowloon, was closely associated with William Gibson, who wrote the foreword to Girard’s book Phantom Shanghai. Gibson is the father of cyperpunk. And I contend that his near future fiction gets quite a bit right about how close the dark past is to almost arrived future. These images were shot in 2007 and yet the outlines of the super cities was already energy

One of Girad’s photographs Phantom Shanghai

The other book is a work of alternative historical fiction in the vein of Philip K. Dick’s Man in the High Castle called American War by Omar El Ak. It is premised on an inverted or “reversed” 9/11/War‑on‑Terror in which American bombed a thriving Dubai.

The premise follows a protagonist’ traumatic life as a a radicalized agent of terror preyed on by different foreign influences living in a refuge camp in what was once Georgia.

It rhymes with both Will’s essay and with William Gibson for me. In a review of the book, they quote Faulkner “the past is never dead. It’s not even past.” And as these examples all show us, cyperpunk was born in Some Dark Holler

Categories
Travel

Day 1875 and Between Heaven and Hell

I had a stupid day. Maybe things have been simmering for a bit and a blow up was to be expected. I hit a limit for humiliation and simply didn’t want to keep paying for that kind of treatment. I did not consent.

I’m doing some business in California and am paying an exorbitant fee for the privilege. And I will eat a lot of shit to do the work I love, but I will not pay to be insulted at a premium price point. A Best Western is good enough for me.

This is going to be a ramble as I am so irritated by it as it felt like every single aspect of the hotel did not function. Their bumbling ineptitude would make a Motel 6 blush, let alone a supposedly upper market hotel.

Alas, somewhere between a maid barging in on me naked and the fourth or filth time a staff member knocked on the door confused about the status of my reservation I snapped. I wanted out of my reservation which is spent hours trying to sort.

If they didn’t want to do their jobs, offer me privacy or take my money, well then I didn’t need to be there. I wanted to be literally anywhere else.

I had a late checkout and half an hour before it hit so I went full Karen. I huffed and puffed and demanded a refund. I packed up, dazed and underfed from a busy morning and went to another less glamorous hotel. And it reads like a comedy of errors.

The hotel was charging prices equivalent to five star luxury hotels in other parts of the world and couldn’t deliver on so much as taking out the trash or keeping the changes in the reservation straight. The Keystone cops were better coordinated.

A kerfuffle had developed around extending the stay yesterday. At issue was that I didn’t have the authority to extend the reservation as it has been booked under my husband’s account and not mine.

Alright fine, but plans change and sometimes (often times) my husband and I have to change on short notice. It wasn’t even as if there were amenities on offer that he was entitled to on his account versus mine. I want being sneaky.

There was no breakfast to abuse. No special amenities for the status guests. Hell there wasn’t even a pair of slippers. But somehow it became a thing. Multiple calls to the manager, confirmation details being emailed around and trips to the front desk did not fix the problem.

The front desk manager acted like she was doing me a favor by letting me pay $300 bucks to extend the stay as “she’s really not supposed to do this!” You see I didn’t book the reservation myself.

This bizarre “account owner” issue is now a regular issue for both Marriot and Hyatt owned hotels. And if they didn’t want to take my money I didn’t feel at all bad about losing my cool and walking out.

The chains simply cannot seem to provide hospitality if it is outside of their parameters and their staff is not enabled to do much of anything beyond try to calm you down while never delivering on what you paid. If you happen to have a change of plans then being the wrong spouse counts against you in their dance of protocal.

I was annoyed but alright I’ll let inconvenience him and have Alex change it and move on. I won’t try to shock them by saying m that married couples commingle many things like airline status, Costco accounts and hotel loyalty programs. You’d be shocked at what other stuff we share. It’s almost like being married means sharing your life.

Today was meant to be the first day of the “new” reservation but despite being charged for it, not a single member of the hotel staff could figure it out. I went down multiple times to change keycards and put down deposits and all kinds of rigamoral.

Because I’d been so jet lagged yesterday I didn’t get any housekeeping service nor had I done much beyond work at the desk. So once I thought the extended reservation was sorted I went to visit a sort of luxury concept mall of the likes that combines Dior and Cartier with a billion other amenities from movie theaters and fine dining with staples like a Sephora. I told the hotel I’d give them time to clean as I was going to pick up a few things.

I return three hours later to the room not being cleaned. I am irked but find I call and ask if they can send housekeeping. “Oh we thought you were checking out?!” My response was “well a cleaning woman came in around 10am without knocking while I was naked.” I was wrong to presume that she would come back despite my AI assisted explainer translating my English to her Spanish. I thought she’d understood I was leaving and she could clean. How wrong I was.

“Oh no we have you listed as checking out at 2pm which is why we didn’t clean! Ok but then why did a maid come in earlier without so much as a knock? No explanation was offered.

This goes on for another half an hour as various people come to the room, none of whom communicated with anyone else on the staff.

A gentleman came knocking to ask when I’m checking out (I am not see this is the reservation). Another came to see when I wanted them to clean (two hours ago but now is fine) and then finally on the fourth person to try to sort it out if I had a reservation (look at the barcode I beg you!) I got angry enough that they let me cancel the reservation. They seemed totally flummoxed by my upset.

Somewhere around “just send up a vacuum I’ll clean myself” and “it’s against union policies to let the guests use the cleaning equipment” we’d clearly reached an impasse on what I needed and what they would do (nothing) and they wanted me gone as much as I wanted to be gone.

I know all of this is stupid and very petty, but we’ve reached a point in many industries where everyone is paying out their noses for services meant to be delivered in an expected manner and almost never are. And the prices only ever go up. if I had ever behaved in the manner that they did when I was managing a marketing agency for a luxury hotel in New York I would’ve promptly been fired.

I didn’t need to be insulted about not being my husband. I didn’t need to work my schedule around their cleaning staff or their front desk scheduling snafus or their various corporate policies on who is allowed to book what and when. 

I want to pay a fair price to stay somewhere I can get my work done and have the basics. Hospitality is about being hospitable. And somewhere between the armed guard at the mall and the baffled maid it just hit me that this heaven and hell interplay is all we can expect from here on out. You either pay a fortune or are lucky for what you can get.

It’s not even premium mediocre now. It’s just shitty. And only Karens stand between us and the total devolution of standards for fair exchanges of goods and services. And unfortunately that means I must don the armor of the Karen and hold my line. I refuse to cut my hair and get highlights though. I’ve had enough humiliation for one day.

Categories
Aesthetics Culture Travel

Day 1872 and ‘bout to take my lady to Selfridges

Ahhh how I missed London. I miss it in the same way I miss Hong Kong and even Frankfurt. So many cities are no longer places for Americans. I need nowhere else to go mind you, my edge of the American empire will be flooded soon enough, it’s just that I miss being welcomed.

It’s just I’d gotten used to the freedom of our constitutional rights seemingly applying everywhere. Team America was an ok joke by true sons of the mountain west libertarian in South Park’s Matt and Trey. Now it seems like a drop out attitude of Gen X. I am still on Team America.

The end of the liberal world order, much ballyhooed by the WEF set, has me getting prepared to be seen as the enemy. It is even time to get used to being called fascists. I’m sure Nazi won’t be far off as the Germans must always take everything too far. Ironic no?

I fear if I don’t prepare to be truly sovereign, I may face a day as a refuge in the future if Americans can’t pull off its renaissance. Though I work hard toward that end.

I’ve done what I can to invest in the young entrepreneurs of the new era, and in the great state of Montana in particular, but victory is more article of faith than assured outcome.

The Munich Security Conference is, as it ever was, a flurry of events but now Marco Rubio is singing a love song to our birth continent. As if papering over the past year of slights and jabs is enough but it is the best a neoconservative in disguise can manage.

And so I had a layover in Heathrow and I saw the flavors of what is to come. And somehow that Prada song was on repeat everywhere I went.

London is still for the globalists, even if you are not a member of what William Gibson called the klept. As in kleptocracy. The Jackpot is here.

Reindustrialize they say, but look what happened to British Empire. The sun never sets? The sun barely rises on it now, and we’ve lost them to the unforeseen consequences of the generational contractual breach.

Add in the inflows of the commonwealth deciding the island will always be a destination for the 1% and London is a pricy place.

And so I think should I go to Selfridges as the song says? The Duty Free shops that makes up Heathrow hasn’t made a deal with them but I’ve got all the luxury options and high streeet choices at my disposal.

I was once deep in the world of travel retail and I bet you can guess who owns the biggest player in Heathrow. No not Arnault. It is, as you might expect, a competing regional power who certainly wishes non-doms weren’t facing wealth taxes in London. They are good to do business with incidentally.

And so I hear, over and over again, past seasons hits and remixes and think London might be the virtual world of Malthusian post Jackpot imaginings of the Cyperpunk progenitor. And we shall compete for clout and status in the same ways as always.

[Young Adz:]

Bout to take my lady Selfridges
New drip on the way, uh-huh
Rap nigga still sellin’ bricks
Half a cake on the way, uh-huh
Take a flight, she wanna take a Lyft
Phone the molly man, he’s on the way, uh-huh
I might take her The Shard, I might take her The Ritz
It don’t matter, baby, I’m straight, uh-huh

[RAYE:]
I feel like I’m in Prince’s house
Purple paint all on the walls, uh-huh
Sittin’ down on this fancy couch
And I can’t see straight, I’m a state, uh-huh
Twenty-two, I’m in Paris, baby
Got strippers tits in my face, uh-huh
Pull up in a Bentley, I want Christian, I want Fendi

I want Prada, ah-ah, ah-ah
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
I already make that paper, I don’t need to chase no clout, wow
I don’t usually pipe up, but I don’t like how you runnin’ your mouth, wow
I already make that paper, I don’t need to chase no clout, wow

I already made that paper and I don’t need to chase no clout so now what?

I’m like George Clooney stuck in the liminal window of Heathrow for a brief moment. I am not of the country (I spent $22 to register myself with their visa mobile app as I sat in a purple corridor trying to input my biometric) so it feels all wrong.

I’m not exactly out of their control until I leave their airspace. But how much longer do any of these Anglophone countries have left?

I’m a dark Swede of dubious stock and many generations of me and mine adjusted to the Weberian Protestant work ethic. I don’t want Prada but I did enjoy working for them as a client.