It’s the end of the world as we know it

I woke up this morning to find that I now have a bank account with the government. This is quite a development, when one considers that the institution that I previously dealt with was until a few weeks ago considered one of the pillars of free market capitalism in this country, and not a basket case that has had to be nationalised to save it from bankruptcy.

I should be feeling fine, I am after all a hard-core leftist, and have marched many a time calling for the commanding heights of the economy to be seized by the state. It’s hard to feel good though, when “depression” stops being something that you can treat with Prozac, and starts being something that will throw millions into poverty.

I’ll probably be OK personally; I work in the public sector, and everybody seems to be a Keynesian these days, so I don’t think my job will be cut. They might even give me a raise, in the hope I’ll rush out and buy a new house. There will be no shortage of business anyhow; human misery is the lifeblood of my profession.

At least REM will be happy; they must be raking in the royalties now that every news show is playing their song over footage of stock traders looking shocked and people queuing up outside banks.

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