A satire of dysfunctional politics and economic disparity.
Chapter VII: Day/Page 67 CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. . . . And so it was on the Blue Planet, too. As decade upon decade passed, the wealth of nations was consolidated into ever fewer hands until most of the nation’s riches was held by one-tenth of one percent of the people, now simply referred to as “Ones,” since a whole percentage point was no longer accurate.
Working for and supporting this itty-bitty group of Ones was a group of professional people called “Pros.” These were the doctors, lawyers, teachers, bourgeois merchants, military, and clergy too, who supplied the various goods and services that were in demand by the Ones, and who, on very rare occasions, even rose to become Ones themselves, through connections, corruption, ruthlessness, or sometimes marriage. The Pros jealously guarded their vaunted position from the mass of other people—from the “slackers” who made up 90% of the population—knowing that: “There, but for the grace of Ones, go I.”
Expunged from the world’s dog-eat-dog, dribble-down economic system, and shoved to the fringe of the pack, the slackers were left to scrounge and fight for scraps, were abandoned, cast off and cast out, were relegated to society’s economic trash-heap where they fought and gnawed over the meager morsels discarded by the Ones and Pros.
And lest the Pros ever forget how tenuous their vaunted position really was, and how fortunate they were to have it, and how thankful they better be to keep it, visible reminders of what life looked like on the next rung down the economic ladder were kept prominently displayed all around. And so it was not uncommon to find a swanky little town like Bellapraia, comprised of Ones and Pros, abutting up against a squalid, dilapidated shantytown like City of God, comprised only of dispossessed slackers. Should any Pros ever waver in their unflagging enthusiasm for supporting the Ones, they too would soon find themselves suddenly cast out into the brutal jungle of slackers.
Through this combustible world Sofia now wandered. . . .
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Gregory James
All rights reserved