The Foundation

I barely slept at all last night, and when I did I had crazy dreams about my job and about Matthew McConaughy (sp?), who was on SNL the other night. I was working on a CD-ROM about scheduling appointments, and I dreamed that it was narrated by a stoner/surfer type played by McConaughy. It wasn’t so much a dream as a vision. I had visions all night. Very specific utopian visions about how the world would be different if I were president of Amerika. And I had detailed retro-fantasies about writing in a journal as a teenager about how the Stock Market was the ruination of Amerika, but that I would exploit its inherent absurdities to make a lot of money because in this culture money=power, and I needed power in order for my ideas to be heard. And I did make lots of money in the stock market, and I did get lots of power. And I slowly moved up the ranks of career politicians, never taking a salary, donating most of my income to my Foundation, which was an umbrella for thousands of non-profit organizations I had started, many of which were artists’ communes, but also organizations to help re-organize failing schools and failing neighborhoods. And I had a lot of real estate. And mainly, I had a think tank, a Democratic Socialist think tank of which I was the head. It was like I was a benevolent version of Dick Cheney or something. In the end, I spent nearly two hours talking to Rev. Al Sharpton about slavery reparations, and he and I were sitting down together to do the math, to decide how much each person should get, how it would be split up, where the money would come from.


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