“Unless the Writing be Erased”

Falling through the unvierse at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

I’ve been watching urban archaeologists explore abandoned mansions. It is an interesting history study of architectural time capsules. But because I was looking at mansions, You Tube thought, perhaps I might be in the market to buy one myself. Located in Evergreen, Colorado, on thirty thousand acres of pine and scrub, a French Villa in the mountains. Bedrooms? Who counts, it’s more than you could possibly ever need. Bathrooms? One full bath per bedroom plus, four or five more on every floor.

Italian marble floors and fourteen-foot ceilings with a tremendous chandelier setting off the hand blocked French wallpaper. With huge windows overlooking the vast vistas of the Colorado nothingness. All this can be yours… if the price is right. And the price is right at a $12.5 million dollars. This house is built! This isn’t just a plan or some hairbrained scheme. They’ve already spent the money. “Hey, who wants to live at the mall?” My living room is an exact replica of the downtown Hilton lobby in Memphis.

With ten percent down and interest rates being what they are right now, there’s never been a better time to buy. But you say, “I don’t want to live in Evergreen, Colorado.” Silly…this is a vacation home!

You can fly in friends and family, from across the country. Play Air-Hockey, shoot pool, drink alcohol, look out the window and compare wealth. No matter how much wealth I accumulated, I could hardly handle that much excitement on a regular basis. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable living on the set of “Citizen Kane.”

But they were exploring a mansion originally built in the 1870s by a judge. With beautiful hand carved stair rails and woodwork on all three floors. The house was later converted to a private, psychiatric hospital and then a “retirement” home. Graffitists had tagged the walls in the living room, and it was like a time machine. You could still see the 19th Century elegance, tagged with 21st Century contemporary “art.” From housing the 1% to housing the 100%. From providing a life of privilege to a waiting room for God, and finally a canvas for vandals.

But the relics left behind the old photographs and chairs and television sets. Clothes strewn on the floor that once meant something to someone. Old phonographs and record albums, and things people once paid real money for. Now just a pile of shit on the floor, in an empty cold abandoned mansion. How quickly they become worthless once detached from their owners, who placed value upon them. A box of letters written between the deceased, about the deceased, reminds us that we are only here for a minute.

Tom Hanks, Americas favorite good guy, was offered a ride on the Jeff Bezos’s Billionaire Bozo bus. Hanks declined, saying the ride came with a $28 million dollar price tag. Hank’s maintained that though he’s been quite fortunate financially, that was still a lot of money for a cheap thrill ride. Blue Horizon officials maintain they’ve already sold over $ 100 million dollars in tickets, that’s three adults and one child under six. Yes, but we’re opening up space to everyone, everyone with $28 million dollars.

This is what they defend to the death; giant empty houses that nobody lives in most of the time. Houses that will eventually fall into ruin, because nobody wants to buy somebody else’s dream. To have the most houses and the biggest yacht. Forty pairs of athletic shoes and an indoor basketball and shuffleboard court. Let’s fly 1,200 miles to play basketball, in my climate-controlled basketball court. “You brought a basketball…right? Let’s take my 300-foot yacht around the bay a few times. We can drink imported beer and have the chef make us bologna sandwiches, like the poor folks.

“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone.”
― Henry David Thoreau

To be a Judas goat or a stopper in the bottle for money. Fascism isn’t political thought; it’s a cancer on political thought. Its purpose is to delegitimize government, until it is weak enough to be conquered. They’re teaching bad things in those public schools. The government is doing bad things that you don’t know about. That doctor is lying, no one can ever be trusted. He’s been anxiously waiting for fifty years, just to fool you now!

It is frightening to think that I might die someday without owning the biggest TV available. I could have afforded one, if it wasn’t for those school taxes. Lousy kids and their damn schools!

There was German princeling once and one day, out of the blue. Some Crusaders came by and knocked at his door. They said, “We’re going to Jerusalem to fight the Muslim Horde and party. We think that you, being a princeling, should come along with us. We think that your presence would add legitimacy to our cause.” The prince explained, that he would love to go along but was very busy. The Middle Ages was a busy time of life for him.

The Crusaders looked at the ground and calmly nodded in understanding saying, “Well, that’s okay. But how about you cough up some coin as a sign of your devotion to Christ, and the true cross and help finance this operation for us?  The prince then stepped back and shut and locked the door. Eventually, the Crusaders brushed up on their crusading skills by sacking the castle and killing the prince. In the basement they found buried, a million pieces of gold.

The prince could have gotten rid of them for pennies on the dollar. Instead, he traded a life in a palace for the destruction of all that he knew and loved. To protect his gold buried in the basement or launched into outer space. A prince with a palace and a castle. With more clothes than he could ever wear and more food than he could ever eat. With so much wealth, that he had to bury it in the basement to hide it.

They may have been dark and barbaric times, but they did know how to handle rich Mofo’s who don’t want to pay their taxes.

I knew of a man whose net take home pay was $52,000 per week. But, if he was short, he could go the main office and get his check early on Thursday afternoon. But with just a paltry six or so million dollars a year in income. He’d struggle to qualify for a mortgage on a $12.5 million dollar vacation home. It would take him five years or more to save up enough to blast off with Captain Video.

By local standards, he was nearly a pauper. He only owned ONE Mansion. I’ll bet he’s so poor, that he pays taxes!

They are Man’s, and they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance, and this girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.” ― Charles Dickens

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