COLD NEWS #9

THE USUAL SUSPECTS: A PARABLE

Andy Mellon, such a decidedly friendly name for the misanthropic man who put the Pluto in plutocracy. “Pluto” being the Greek god of the underworld and “-tocracy” being the ruling elite.

Andy owned most of Amerika, the richest land in all of the world. Andy owned towns, factories, farms, ships, and banks. He owned most everything worth owning. He literally set the gold standard for owning stuff.

While America grew poorer during the Great Depression, Andy grew richer. He was worth more than the entire country. While half the people were homeless, Andy resided in castles. While the majority had little food, Andy held Roman bacchanals for his friends.

Andy was not a generous kind of guy; in fact, he was more “a don’t owe you a turd on Christmas” kind of guy. Once, his goddess Ayn “The Merciless” came to him in a dream and told him to kick those beneath him further down. Ayn said, “believe in yourself and only yourself.”

So Andy did. He compounded his worth daily and walked among the poor house, soup line masses like a Darwinian god. In his mind, he was the crown of his own creation. Ayn had justified his greed and gave him direction along the path to his manhood, and he would be foolish not to follow.

But even as Andy got his hubris on, Fate, as it usually does, was making other plans. Despite his position and power, he was still only a man. People need a village. He was only a member of a cult.

True, it was a very rich and influential cult, including the generals of sado-capitalism, J.P. Mortgage,  Pres Bush, and Henry “the Ford,” friend of Adolf, to mention only a privileged few. They were also followers of Ayn “The Merciless” and her teachings of selfishness.

When Fate acts, it is often ironic. Sometimes it gives you all you need, sometimes more or less, but there is usually an ironic twist involved. In Andy’s case, it came when he discovered he was just a man. No more intelligent or stupid then most and definitely not demigod material.

The biggest downer for Andy and most sobering was the realization that the social contract Ayn had derided as a show of weakness for the powerful, still held him in sway. When he died, he shared the most common bond with the most common people. The bond was as strong or weak as love or hate but still the connection was undeniable from egg to genome: “No man is an island.” He was far from a self-made man.