As a symbolic representation of the existential homelessness of modern Western man, I am always on the lookout for material to tell you about that affirms my raison d’etre, a word which I found on-line, but don’t know the meaning of, having no meaning or point for my existence.
Anyway, I am getting off topic, which for me is remarkable. But, what was my topic? Think, Len, think. Your fans expect a lot from you, like coherence and all that. Now I remember, I have re-read my title….high tech homelessness. You see the high tech elite at Silicon Valley, which is, I suppose, an entire valley full of silicon, are living in their cars because of the high cost of living. HA! HA, again. Why don’t they just clean up all the silicon and make homes for people? Or, bring in more migrants, who through their economic magic will make even more homes?
Here are comments from one car-dwelling high tech lady:
““I tell people all the time, stop looking at what somebody got and what you see on the outside. Everything I do here, this is my life. This car means everything to me because it’s all I have basically. I’m very embarrassed because I don’t want to be looked down upon or talked about…[my colleagues] would be shocked that I’m going through that because they would be like ‘I see you smiling at work, you appear to be happy. You look normal, you look clean…I think that companies need to look at the salaries. Are we paying employees enough to survive?”
Yes, this Black woman, known as “pinkie,” because she has a pink car, pink hair, a pink dog, and everything except pink skin, wears her homelessness as a matter of pride. And, good for her. Homelessness is the trend of the future, especially for Anglo-Australians, and since none of them (or not enough of them) had the brains or guts to fight against immigration-based displacement, and the corrupt economic/financial system…well,…most are all going to end up just as crazy as me when the full weight of dispossession sinks them:
It is not so bad. I have many friends, who scamper out at night to eat the food scraps, and sing nervous songs to me, in their insect voices, or so it sounds after my meds and alcohol, which must never be mixed. Most of us too, will get to make new friends, but probably of the insect world.