“When one man possesseth more gold than ten thousand men may spend, call him not successful. Ask where the fuck he got it.”
— William Shakespeare, The Tragedie of Unregulated Capital Accumulation, Act IV, Scene “Tax Haven”
(Not actually Shakespeare. Obviously. The man had problems, but venture capital was not yet one of them.)
harketh horatio
“why doth everyone worship the billionaire?”
“because he hath a billion dollars.”
“aye. but why is that admirable?”
“because he earned it.”
“himself?”
“nay. thousands worked for him.”
“and they became billionaires?”
“nay.”
“millionaires?”
“mostly nay.”
“then where did the billions cometh from?”
“the company.”
“which the thousands built?”
“aye.”
“and who receiveth the greatest share?”
“the billionaire.”
“because he did the greatest share of the work?”
“nay, horatio. keep up.”
“perhaps he needeth the money?”
“he hath three houses, two jets, a yacht, and a smaller yacht which liveth inside the larger yacht.”
“then why doth he need more?”
“growth.”
“of what?”
“his money.”
“and what shall he do when he hath twice as much?”
“seek twice as much again.”
“this soundeth less like success and more like a fucking disorder.”
“silence. he is a job creator.”
“the workers create nothing?”
“jobs.”
“for whom?”
“the workers.”
“so the workers create the wealth, receive a fraction of it, and must then thank the man who keepeth the rest?”
“precisely.”
“and if they ask for more?”
“greedy.”
“and if he asks for more?”
“visionary.”
“hark.”
“what?”
“i think we have been worshipping the wrong fucking parasite.”