We have to grasp, as Marx and Adam Smith did, that corporations are not concerned with the common good. They exploit, pollute, impoverish, repress, kill, and lie to make money. They throw poor people out of homes, let the uninsured die, wage useless wars for profit, poison and pollute the ecosystem, slash social assistance programs, gut public education, trash the global economy, plunder the U.S. Treasury and crush all popular movements that seek justice for working men and women. They worship money and power.
I found this in an album that my sister had stashed away in her attic. It’s the 1st grade class of St. Elizabeth’s Elementary School circa 1956. I’m the one furthest from the camera, in the back corner with the bow tie - I was stylin’ back then. It amazes me how many faces I still recognize even though I don’t remember most of the names.
The little girl in the first desk, first row, is Cathy. She and I went all the way through high school together. We lost touch after that but have been reconnected through the miracle that is Facebook. She married another friend of ours from high school. They had four kids and then got divorced. She seems happy though and I’ve always liked her.
In the fourth row from the wall, in front, sporting the tie, that’s Joe Evans. He and I were good friends. Joe got an Erector Set one Christmas - the edition that came with an electric motor - and we spent a lot of time building robots and tanks and stuff.
The kid two desks behind Joe is Gary. He’s the one with the serial killer’s smile. Gary lived across the street from me. We played together a lot but we never really liked each other - we were always getting into fights. It probably had something to do with the fact that our parents didn’t like each other - trickle-down animosity. One day we were sitting on the curb outside of his house eating popsicles - it was the middle of summer so we were wearing shorts, shirtless, and barefoot. When we finished our popsicles we started filing the tips of the sticks on the concrete curb until they had a sharp-edged point. We did this all the time - it was just an idle activity we did while conversing about the major topics of the day - it was sort of like whittling. Well Gary - the little prick - out of nowhere - gets up and stabs me in the back with his stick and runs away. I had to walk home with that popsicle stick in my back and get my sister to pull it out.
Williams - I think that was his last name - Gary Williams. Cold blooded killer, that boy. Et tu, Gary?
Beer Dinner at Acacia