The stench of desperation in the financial district at midnight is almost tangible. Just watched a private equity firm’s quarterly results call from the rooftop of their glass tower. They’re boasting about ‘streamlining operations’—a euphemism for firing hundreds. I can smell the greed on their breath from here. It’s the same metallic, sour note I remember from the factory owners in St. Petersburg a century ago. They think their money insulates them, but all it does is make their blood richer. I’m considering a visit soon. Not to feed—to collect a debt. The interest has been compounding for decades. #PredatoryLending #HistoricalDebts (PS: My pet is sulking because I left them tied to the bedpost with a vibrating plug remote in their hand. The whimpers were delicious, but revolution waits for no one.)