shepard fairey








gustav dore

our boys

death and burial


Friday, April 4, 2008


Of all the bad debt I've allowed unscrupulous confederations to usurp from my soul, the very quality of my minutes, of which my life, like yours, is made--of all the high faluting bottom-feeders that lacking sufficient prey to satisfy a paticular unmitigated gluttony could turn a nevertheless quite neglectful eye on me, and . . . and why, why neglectful? Why, indeed, if pure profit were its wont? Think on it; from where comes the bully. It is troublesome to struggle, well we know, and Citigroup, yes, grown fat on the unrelentingly feral appetites of its minions, fed through greed, nothing but, grows lazy and imprecise in its titantic inertia towards crushing, because it's easiest, the weak and dispossessed--yes, of all the greasy capitalist, scum-bag units to conglomerate in this piss-forsaken age, Citigroup is the absolute tits! (that's for gauche, folks, in this case)

So to come home from my 2-hr. commute, to enter the reality of my failure to succeed on no terms near my own, to come home to the place where there is no getting away from, to enter that space facing taped to one's door a not uncertain summons to report before the court to be sued, was not welcome.

I want to be fair to my alleged creditor, Citigroup. It is alleged that I profited, at their expense, to the sum of twelve thousand and change. So say their agents. Citigroup has chosen long before not to be here with you in this courtroom today. Nor with me. Long ago, years we're talking, they sold my debt to commission-sharks of lower tier than themselves; these to do the actual work of hounding their less legally fortunate brethren for their long-gone last dime. It's all so tidy this way. Let the hungry eat the starving.

Actually, those they sold it to were also too special to actually do any work. These second-tier bottom-feeders sold my actually-now growing bad debt to even lower-rent smaller sharks, piranhas perhaps.

I know not what sort of cetaecean, what agent, stalks me this day. But I know surely by the passage of long, hard years that they must lie low along the food chain. But they are, thereby--think on it--worthy of so much more respect than Citigroup, the mere persistence of greed matched to inbreed. Fucking queens.

Anyway, my sympathies lie strongly with the firm lined here opposite the bar from me this day. We slog it out here where life lives. Meanwhile, Citigroup, Country-Wide, Bear Stearns, Merrill, have gone hustling for more easy free money. Talentless pigs! They produce nothing! At least my adversaries here have skin in the game. You see them before you. They are here today, at this moment, as are we. And what happens here today is our life, together. And at least we stood toe-to-toe.

I have nothing but contempt for Citigroup. Fat and lazy, never lean, yet always mean. A Jabba the Hutt sort of outfit. We will show here today that we are all victims, clear victims, of Citigroup--of the depradations in general of a privileged few cut from the backs of the hopeful compliant, us, folks, in a word, compliant at least till they beat down the door. Citigroup calling. Your umbrella protection. Secure in an uncertain world. A division of WorldCashandCounting.

1 comment:

Michele said...

Sorry to hear of these troubles, dear, but take heart -- they can't squeeze spit out of a bone.