Don't want an hour as a refugee, in Davos

The theatrical works of a culture say as much about
that culture as they say about theater. In the Out-of-
Touch Burgh of Davos, the oligarch class, with or
without the perennial Clintons, go up a mountain in
search of wisdom, or fois gras. This year, the
self-appointed world elites were trying on some
human emotions like a pair of cheap, wet smelly
socks.

In their attempt to understand more about the
world publics that they usually step all over,
they tried discussing "them losers over there."
But when it came to refugees, they treated
themselves to a live, in the wool, experience
of life as refugees for 45 minutes only.

It was so out of touch. Until I can analyse it
further, it looked like a dark room, with some
water on the floor and a bunch of soldiers
yelling at them.

In the first instance, refugees, if Lesbos is
any example, are met by locals and
international volunteers with blankets,
if they manage to avoid a dunking in
the Med. Perhaps the show should have
chosen some Davos Divots and taken
them to a deep pool, and put them in a rickety
leaky boat, especially if they cannot swim.
I think several thousand real refugees died
in the Med last year.



Forget what the media tell you. This
Theater of the Elites looked more
like what will happen when the
economy totally collapses under the
weight of elitist fuck-ups. In that case,
it will be permanently dark as elites
will have found a way to cloud the
sun permanently. The shouting soldiers
would be the ones trying to save them
while killing the plebs who are
seeking a scrap of food. The soldiers
would be saving the elites and taking
them to refuge at Galt's Gulch.