I have a friend who explained his alcoholism to me thusly: “I have a drink, I feel good. I have two drinks, I feel better. After three drinks, I feel great. Then the math takes over.”
That conversation came to mind when I watched the parade of rich, seemingly powerful men lining up to kiss Donald Trump’s ass as he assumes the throne. Zuckerberg just appointed Trump’s buddy Dana White to the board of Meta and suspended fact-checking on the platform in capitulation to the bronze blowhard. This is on top of the million dollar donation to the unaccountable “inaugural fund.” Apple CEO, Tim Cook and Bezos dropped a million in the slush fund, and Amazon agreed to live-stream the enthronement ceremony AND fund a sure-to-be thrilling documentary about the rise of Queen Melania to the tune of $40 million. Meanwhile, Musk brings King Donald his slippers in the morning like a deeply inbred retriever.
What gives? According to the American value system, these are supposed to be the most “successful” men in the country. These guys made it. They’re up to their geeky necks in fuck you money, and yet all they can say is “Yes, sir!”
The truth is, there is no such thing as “fuck you money.” It’s a myth, optimized like most of the other American myths, to make the hamsters spin the wheel just a little faster.
To be sure, on a purely mathematical level, there is a formula for saving/investing in such a way that passive income is generated sufficient to cover expenses for life. People like Mr. Money Mustache dispense sound advice on the mechanics of such an escape. But a true escape requires some wisdom and detachment. An ability to recognize and respect that most elusive of goals: enough. Very few people have this ability, because “enough,” like the horizon, is always visible, but never reachable. It recedes as we advance towards it. The Trumps and Musks and Zucks of the world don’t understand this. They want to live ON the horizon they see in the distance, and they’ll happily surrender self-respect, dignity, and peace of mind to get there. But there is no pile of gold high enough, no rocket powerful enough, no woman beautiful enough, no acclaim resounding enough to scratch their itch. The world is ruled by empty little men who cannot rest, drowning in their fuck you money.
True story, Word of Honor:
Joseph Heller, an important and funny writer
now dead,
and I were at a party given by a billionaire
on Shelter Island.
I said, “Joe, how does it make you feel
to know that our host only yesterday
may have made more money
than your novel ‘Catch-22’
has earned in its entire history?”
And Joe said, “I’ve got something he can never have.”
And I said, “What on earth could that be, Joe?”
And Joe said, “The knowledge that I’ve got enough.”
Not bad! Rest in peace!”
— Kurt Vonnegut
The New Yorker, May 16th, 2005