The facile, contrived optimism¶

The facile, contrived optimism of the labor aristocrat winners of the post-2008 era. "Mission Accomplished," chanted and sung to the exclusion of an expanded permanent lumpen cohort. It was the era the back-to-brunch crowd are nostalgic for, driving their fascist fixation. https://t.co/5RAihZAJm4 There has been a concerted effort to rekindle that moment in the past few years, to "overcome" the "pessimism" of the pandemic era. Desperate, conspicuous consumption is through the roof for this generation's equivalent cohort.

But it's not sticking. The malaise still lingers. Every crisis is a turning point, a threshold that, once crossed, can't be reversed. "Stomp Clap Hey" and "Day in the Life of a..." are anthemic for a shrinking class of global playboys trying frantically to pretend their indolent indulgent lifestyle is sustainable. COVID has driven a stake through their eyes in a way genocide, environmental collapse, and mass economic despair never could. Their armed guards and gold picket fences might still be able to keep out the riffraff, but the air itself is now toxic, and they can smell the stench. This cultural moment for the world's upper crust is characterized by dancing through the fatigue and singing between the coughing fits. Something feels "off" in a way they struggle to ignore as they always have.

Ultimately though, it barely matters. Sure, their cruises and concerts and brunches and Dubai Chocolate feel more hollow now. But that doesn't matter to them. They know no other way to live. They'll continue to fiddle while the world burns, right until the moment when the wretched of the Earth tear their palace down.