There once was a girl named Megan who thought entirely too much about things. Sometimes she decided to leave slow, boring lectures and went to the library to see what she could find out about becoming a white-collar criminal. What is better, she thought to herself, listening to some 19 year-old kids very seriously discussing how to mitigate the mess made by old, rich white businessmen during the latest business cycle clusterfuck or learning how to be that rich businessperson who fucks up and gets praised for it?
In the library, she found a book that described the feelings and motivations of criminals. She read about working-class men who swallow humilliation on the job only to kill their girlfriend because of the shame and rejection they feel when she sleeps with someone else. She read about cholos’ obsession with low-riders and almost-sitting poses in photographs, submitting to authority while simultaneously defying it, as per Derridian deconstruction.
Another self-righteous author tut-tutting teenaged hackers, and finally some fucking statistics. White-collar crime costs society many BILLIONS more than more visible, violent crime. You know, the kind poor people go to prison for. Thank god for corporate lawyers and country clubs where the bankers can schmooze it up with the politicians. And isn’t it just awesome that enough
hypocritical slugs wise and selfless people take it upon themselves to judge the actions the lower income brackets and lock them away so as to ensure our continued prosperity?
Our girl Megan should stay the fuck out of the library, lest she get it in her head to become one of these
sociopathic gangsters utterly respectable pillars of the community. Her place is in the classroom, and later the cubicle, popping pills because there aren’t a lot of options for those with who don’t want to perpetrate violence and class warfare.