Anomie, another word the Refugee doesn't know

Since I am in the mood to be in character rather than engage the Refugee as an actual person with the gift of conciousness and introspection, I will treat his latest entry as meaningless drivel contrived to excuse his lack of wealth and participation in the modern consumer economy. Anyone not driven for large homes and hemorraghing debt in the pursuit of acquisition larger than the Jones's is not a victim, nor a sufferer of depression and malaise (or, to use a bougie word picked up through my bougie education, anomie), but what we call in modern parlance a LOSER. (Following words said in mocking dramatization) "Oh, poor me, the world is based on innovation and competition, and I am being grinded to a pulp and left behind in a maelstrom of human loss and remorse." Goddamn, the Refugee, where is your drunken and totally incoherent sense of pride? Fuck you and your neighbors, all those struggling next to the poverty line and grasping at dignity amidst deprivation. You think cooking fine meals for privileged folk is a subversive act tracing back to more primitive human impulses and values? Of course, after cooking for your rich benefactors, you will buy a hot pocket and consider yourself lucky, for you ate today and had enough money for a nickel bag and a rotten whore. You think you are a success because you don't suffer anomie and feel a connection toward your labor. Alienated labor is the shit, baby. Give up your decadent life in the trenches and have your soul crushed for a few extra bucks, like the rest of first-tier world.

If this post doesn't make any sense, it's because I spent all my rational brain power making great strides toward the completion of an illustrated version of my and the Refugee's journey across this great land. I will return to disparaging the Refugee soon enough, after you try to make since of his faint attempt at sober sincerity. Good night from the frigid coast.