The Teletypewriters & U.S. Economic Policy

Hey Durian, what's happening?

Many groups and institutions have been asking for government money in recent months in order to fend back the prevailing tide of economic hardship. Banks, financial managers, the auto and porn industries, jewelry manufacturers and even Harley Davidson have all asked the US federal system for money in order to help save their respective operations. These motions are outrightly socialist in nature, true, but the way that capitalism works is that if no one wants or needs your product, you close up the business and instead make something that the people want. It functions on the basis of a Free Market. Examplum gratis: the fresh durian market is extremely slim in this country because it is a fruit that according to Richard Sterling smells like “pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock” and not a lot of people (that we know) are into that sort of thing.

Hello, I am Escalade, and I'll be your server for the evening.

So maybe the American auto industry should have made sleeker, more fuel efficient cars at a lower cost instead of petrol devouring tankers designed to haul one middle aged man and his middle aged wife and their 2.3 Ritalin medicated children. Who are we as the general financing American public to remind a hegemonic oil dependent industry of the primary rules of engagement in the capitalist market? Or who are we to demand honesty in our economic systems? If socialist policies are going to be used to save The American Dream™ then perhaps it ought to be that stated and accepted that capitalism is not sustainable and the economic tremors we have been experiencing are it’s death throes.

2008 in Review

Greetings from Southern California, or as Jean Baudrillard so lovingly calls my home state, the “desert of the hyperreal.” I write you all while basking in the glimmering sunshine amidst throngs of blonde women clad in velour Juicy Couture tracksuits, UGG boots, and oversized sunglasses. Tonight, I shall feast on vegan cuisine with my favorite globetrotter, Lauren. While my trusted and best beloved lab partner/co-author/homeslice ices over in Massachusetts, I decided to take some time to put 2008 in perspective.

To begin with, 2008 was the year of the Rat. It was also the year that a small army of mice invaded my apartment. Currently, Lo tha Funkee Feline is holding down the fort and keeping the little critters at bay by intimidating and humiliating these small rodent beings. Apparently, she also likes to sadistically humiliate and destroy phone cords.

Editorial: You, Me & the Urban Outfitters

or, the lukewarm reception this store was met with

“According to demography, this is what a significant portion of my fellow observable 18-24 year olds purchase and wear.” This was the rationale I had in my head when crossing the stone threshold at the recently opened Urban Outfitters that fell in the middle of my downtown earlier this summer. It only took about five months for this Urban Outfitters to gestate- remember that. But there it was, with it’s deceptively humble white neon sign perched atop the sculpted granite lentil. I opened the door to the store to find the number of people inside to be sparse and a cheery “Hi, welcome to Urban Outfitters!!” was promptly communicated at me from a near by sales associate. I reciprocated a responsive false signifier, and made a blitzkrieg for the men’s section.