It's a strange time, Robber Barons revisited and malfeasance rewarded with Babylonian bonuses and offshore accounts. Rewards, in fact, for off-shoring American jobs and increasing shareholder value, by paying sweat shop wages.
Greed as icon of success is wearing thin as Zeitgeist; looking bloated and repellent. Beware, greedsters, this societal shift in perception: Gucci's to orange jumpsuits, dead ahead.
A woman desperately holding down four menial jobs and often sleep-deprived was found dead in her car this week, dressed for work in her Dunkin' Donuts uniform. Four low-paying jobs to pay the bills?
I was in the Post Office yesterday when an elderly man limped in. I know him for a disabled Korean War Veteran and long-retired school teacher. A lady asked how he was doing:
"I'm too old to work; I'm too old. But I have to, to keep my family fed. My grand-kids and great grand-kids can't find jobs."
Not many families have a Pater familias anymore; they're dying out. Broken families have been trained to look to Big Daddy government for help: the government that can't even turn on the water for Detroit.
Toward the end of Pax Romana and its last nutcase emperors, Caligula made his horse a Roman Citizen and a Senator.
Many hind quarters later, we expect teddy bears and good night telly.