Everyone hates the rich
A somatic exploration of the impending class-war
Every time I drive through a wealthy neighborhood in the hills, with a picturesque view looking down on the city, I am filled with murderous rage.
I thought it was me. I’ve been healing the binary of haves and have-nots/ owning class and working class, and I thought I was experiencing jealousy. I was wrong.
My body is the perfect instrument to heal collective trauma. My body reverberates in response to my environment. I play the vibration my environment puts out. Yesterday I noticed that the vibration in wealthy neighborhoods is hatred.
Everybody hates rich people. Rich people hate themselves, they hate each other, and working-class people hate rich people at a frequency that is rapidly increasing to a high-pitched whine, like a machine about to be ripped apart. As I felt into the self-hatred of the rich I noticed: In order to take so much more than your fair share, you have to hate yourself.
If we are each a cell in the vast body of life, together we are a body. If the foot says, “f u hands, I’m keeping all this wellbeing for myself,” that is the body hating itself. If the eyes say, “f u stomach. I’m not sharing my lunch with you” the body starves. If we hoard resources, with defensive indifference to the impact, we kill ourselves.
Thus, we must conclude that the rich are suicidal.
I asked my body, if I’m not jealous, what am I feeling? “A boundary,” my body replied. The boundary is,
“You (rich people), cannot have all the stuff.”
This boundary creates an opportunity for our collective body to bring balance to imbalance, justice to injustice. The boundary is an offer of health and wellbeing.
The white men who drive past me in these neighborhoods always seem to drive large, shiny, black SUVs. Their second vehicles - tiny forest-green sports cars - are parked in the driveway enjoying the view. “You cannot have all the stuff.” I know this boundary creates a moment of reckoning that will kill our relationship. I already know the response will overwhelmingly be,
“Yes, I can. And there is nothing you can do to stop me.”
The problem is, there is something I can do to stop you. Working-class people have been avoiding this thing for a while. We’ve been shouldering the burden of bodily disease to avoid this thing. We are deeply scared of this thing. But we are getting too hungry to be scared…
If wealthy people continue to say, “You will have to pry your fair share from my cold dead hands,” then we will have to murder you. But we are hoping you will be reasonable…
Guillotines, suicide bombs, eating the rich. These are the tactics the working class must use when the only game the wealthy will play is a fight to the death.
Is there really no middle ground?
Is sharing our collective bounty so repulsive to you that death is preferable?
Do you hate yourselves so much you would rather die clinging to shiny, dead things than live in partnership with humans who can love you back?
What is wrong with you?
Where does it hurt?
Where is the wound? I will help you heal it!
I will also let you die. If you need to suffer the consequences of your actions I will not rob you of the opportunity. I am wise enough to know I cannot protect anyone from the outcomes they choose.
But for the love of ease, can you just play the game of wellbeing with me?
Can we just be well?
Update: This is a running list of this dynamic playing out
As of December 2024
Brazen, Targeted Murder of Insurance Company CEO
Photo Credit: Jessie Jess on Unsplash