Oh, boy. All that shattering of bank windows and terrorizing of family-owned food carts – damn teenagers, building up their work ethic and getting a head start on life! – has finally paid off for Occupy Wall Street. (Not to mention all the pissing on the sidewalk and blocking street traffic. Your starving babies will have to wait. We have to do our zombie dances and scream in that mustached, network dude’s face for no apparent reason.) It’s just not fair, they seem to think, that folks like Steve Jobs stuffed their pockets by, you know – working 18 hours a day, breaking a sweat, taking risks with their own capital, and providing us with software, digital marvels, and handheld talky-gizmos which have only, like, revolutionized the way we share information, communicate, and do business. Bleh.
So what if our lives are so much easier, now that we don’t have to kill so many trees or ship 1000-page piles of paper all over the place? So what if we’re not dragging around our personal computers in bags of equipment that weigh more than a sack of rocks, now that they’re so much more compact and slim? So what if I don’t have to listen to Grandma’s polka music when I’m riding in the backseat of her Buick, now that thousands of tunes fit neatly in my own pants pocket? It doesn’t matter because he had more stuff than I did, and I want it, and I’m jealous, and – wahhhhh. I hate my life.