My friend B is ultra-liberal born and raised in Boston. She lived in California for twenty years before real estate prices drove her out of there to cheaper southern states. Her disappointment with present day America is complete and she often asks me if she can find gainful employment in India and what it may cost to live there. I warn her that a brunette with green eyes would not quite blend with the local scenery and suggest NZ or Australia instead.
She has this interesting Michael Moore-ish theory about state sponsored obesity along the lines of "Cheap processed food is the opiate of the masses". Give people too much to eat, bait them with a slew of consumer goods, McSUVs and McMansions, allow them to sink in bottomless debt you create an atmosphere of unparalleled insecurity and fear. An over-full stomach gives them a false sense of comfort. A dread combination that turns out just perfect for dictatorship to thrive.
Fear of loosing their jobs, of loosing their assets, of loosing their waistline all add to up the sum total of terror. A terrified people is very easy to manipulate. "Absolute greed is what fuels American economy" she often says. B has been in IT long enough to know that the head honchos want to keep all the money at the cost of the jobs, lives and livelihoods of their fellow Americans. If there is money to be made, they will not blink before laying-off workers at home and outsourcing their jobs.
B and many baby boomers like her that I know foresee a dark and grim future for their country and don't want to be any part of it. Had B been younger, she would have actually made the move abroad but with age against her, she probably will not do that and end up living in a cheap southern state suffering the oppressive climate of fear and suspicion. She is terrified of the holy-rollers whose tribe seems to be growing in alarming numbers. The last time we discussed the subject of an hospitable habitat for B, a condominium like the Hydropolis project in Dubai on international waters seemed a decent enough option.
I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...
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