Their Royal Hineys The Baron & Baroness Omidyar Buy the World: Chapter the Sixteenth of “Eat the Rich & Share the Wealth”
July 2nd, 2010
Beautiful, isn’t it?
It takes your breath right away.
Whether you stand way back like that,
or put your eye close to one
particular aspect of it —
— the Earth and its fruits
are exquisite, among the most gorgeous jewels
in Indra’s oh-so-connected net. A troublesome feature of that
which is pleasing to the eye (or taste buds or genitals, and yes we’ll be
getting back to that squalid goatporn situation today, I promise) is the tendency
they inspire in some to want to own them. You or I see them and feel
elated, reverent, blessed simply to behold; others
ache instead with a consuming desire
to acquire.
I confess I do not
come from this planet. I’m a visitor,
sent from my own home to one of the garden spots
of the universe to look around, assess what appears to be
a very tricky and desperate situation, and report back
to my superiors. I understand greetings
What I have to report —
the beauty of your poetry, women, dogs,
and naked goats aside — is not good. Many of the details
are chronicled in the words, photographs,
videos, and songs found
on this blog.
At the heart of it is
that desire to acquire. It’s difficult
to imagine now, but once upon a time ago,
human were a part of life on Earth like whales are
a part of the ocean: integrated into it, held
by it, fed like a baby at her
mother’s breast.
Just a few minutes back —
about ten thousand years, in your flawed
methodology of measuring time — you humans
decided that wasn’t good enough. The situation is pretty
well described in the scroll of Ishmael; rather than letting the
Earth deliver the fish and the fowl and the fruit on an as-needed basis,
people wanted to store things up so that they would be safe forever:
out of the rain, away from the lions, food in the larder, more
food than those fookin’ Cro-Magnon chumps over
the hill, the low rent bastards!
It’s understandable,
in a way, but an evolutionary mistake,
and one that got quite out of hand. Folks got fascinated
by piling crap up — grain (though it grows practically everywhere),
fruit (hanging off every other tree!), gold and shiny noisy machines and things
that go BANG! (especially beloved). These are the fetish articles of Earth, and no
one is more admired here than the man or woman who has the biggest pile.
If two Advanced Acquirers, like His Royal Hiney The Baron Pierre
von Omidyar and Her Royal Hiney The Baroness and Grand
Panjandrum Pamela von Omidyar, join forces to hoover
stuff up, well, folks just fart all over themselves
with admiration. It’s curious.
It doesn’t work, either.
It’s destroying one of the loveliest and
most sublime places in all the known and unknown
universe. It has displaced the reverence and respect humans had
for their Earth and all its inhabitants — redwood, whale, condor, river —
with money lust. Get a little, want a lot. Get a lot, want
every nice hotel and beach in the Monopoly game,
and the goons to protect them, and the
I’ve been working on
a little plan to turn this in a better
direction for a while. As those in need of resources
are wont to do, I became a supplicant to the rich and powerful,
among them Their Royal Hineys the Baron and Baroness von Omidyar.
Happy enough to talk with me about other things — like
which gewgaw to obtain next – they couldn’t
bear to speak of saving the pearly
blue planet.
I was patient for years —
the filthy rich require patience and coddling
and ass-wiping and burping beyond anything an infant ever needs –
but this year I grew weary of seeing whales made into hamburgers and children
having their limbs lopped off because the von Omidyars were too absorbed
in feathering their nest. (Okay, okay, their many nests — what
self-respecting billionaire would have less
than a dozen homes and
resorts?!)
Thus began
“Eat the Rich & Share the Wealth”,
the first fifteen chapters of which are located here –
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 — for your browsing pleasure.
A movie is in the works, starring the Baron and Baroness
themselves, and I’ll tell you more about that soon,
but now we really need to talk
about the goatporn.
Ever since I alluded to
it the other day, people have been calling
my phones and Skyping me and coming by my house to ask,
“What’s all this about goatporn, BW?” It’s this: as I’ve admitted before,
and as is well-documented in my FBI file, I have a magnificent
collection of goatporn. I’m not the least bit ashamed
of it, either, not like I used to be. Goats heap big
sexy! While slightly conscience-stricken still
about my Cheney-in-leopardskin
shots –
– I don’t feel shy about the goats.
And I’m not ashamed of some other things, either.
Like these folks, I’m proud of my love for lascivious liquid
fishflesh, especially whales and moray eels and bluefin tuna.
Like this fellow, my nostrils flare when I get near a big,
hard, swollen shaft — like those of redwood that
grow along the Left Coast of America.
And the breasts and bellies of
this planet of yours?
They simply make me tremble.
In my heart of hearts, I can understand why some
want to capture them and keep them for themselves, like the
Baron and Baroness and their gobble gobble gobbling of luxury resorts.
But me, I’m just visiting. I can’t take any of this home with me, and I know it.
So while I’m here I just want to behold it, to appreciate it, maybe pick up
some litter so I leave it nicer than I found it, defend the creatures,
perhaps turn off some of the noisier machines
and defuse a handful of the things
And I want to tell
the truth about what I see here,
even if it offends the rich and powerful,
even if they own the government, even if they own
my local P.D., even if they’re a-plottin’ and a-schemin’ to lay
me low. They may succeed, they may not. Know what
the Christ of our time said about stuff like that?
Until that day, Earth first!
Whales first! Dogs first and forever! And
billionaires, well, billionaires can
suck my big Batdick.
Tomorrow: Pierre plays with a whale!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
