The conglomerate of ocracies mentioned above have collectively exceeded it many times over.
Forget them.
The hippies in their communes have peace of mind, though I wonder if they have insurance. There are all sorts of alternative forms of medicine that work at least as well as do the pharmaceuticals that run through most of our veins to some extent--large, small, or mid-range.
My father once said that he'd rather be rich and miserable than poor and miserable. He also said to always expect the worst and be happy when something better comes along.
How many people alive would rather be rich than poor? Do we all beat our brains out to be elevated to a category that file income tax forms but export their wealth or horde it into tax shelters but manage nonetheless to live mighty high on the hog?
I don't know. This blog entry is about ocracies. How pulled apart we are by our contradictory urges: toward Midas, Socrates, Tom Paine, Jonathan Swift, Bill Gates, Albert Einstein, Paris Hilton, and many other synecdoches (correct vocab. to signify one standing for many--Midas a synecdoche for wealth?)
These days everything the ocracies touch turns to gold for them only.
Again I ask, what's so unique about plutocracy? Does the twenty-first century own it?
Hardly. What we need is a truetruetrue, realrealreal God-ocracy. I can't define it beyond the neologism (a grade of "D" for neologistic vocabulary in this blog entry, I know).
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
