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december 23, 1996:
One is silver and
the Other Gold
Good vs. Evil
confusion
<rebeca>i'm not good with millionaires
<rebeca>i just spent a whole week in their company at these resorts.
<rebeca>i ended up hanging out only with locals.
<rebeca> one rich guy was hitting on me a tad, and then i made the grand mistake
<rebeca> of opening my mouth and talking.
<prime8> so what happened to this sleazy millionaire who was hitting on
<prime8> you, rebeca?
<rebeca> oh, patrick. he heard me speak and wrote me off as a freak. not the best
<rebeca> date for the country club affair.
<rebeca>and my bloody knees and gauged fingers did not help my look.
<prime8> rebeca: i thought rich people were into dating freaks
<rebeca> patrick: well, i thought that too. but i think it was when i was talking
<rebeca> about the class structure of lana'i and bemoaning the dole-to-david-
<rebeca> murdoch ownership of the island that he got peeved. there was more,
<rebeca> about marriage and bras and vibrators or something, but i can't
<rebeca> remember.
<flint> yeah. freaks + rich people = love
<prime8> it's their way of freaking out mom and dad before they settle
<prime8> down to collect on the dividends
<Cindy> problem is, if they're still pissing off mom and dad you don't
<Cindy> have access to the real money yet
<rebeca>he flinched when i used the word "fuck" so i played a game to see how
<rebeca> many different ways i could invoke the flinch response.
<rebeca> and then he paid for the nanny's drink (she was apparently the only other
<rebeca> single woman on the island) but not mine.
<rebeca> they talked about taking a powerwalk in the morning, but i could not go
<rebeca> bc i was waking up at dawn to watch whales and dolphins, and then
<rebeca> going scuba diving at 8.30 am
<prime8> class warfare, the only solution
<fleagirl> you're better off without him
<fleagirl> well, not financially, but still
<prime8> he'll be hanged in the guts of the last stock broker on Glory
<prime8> Day!
<rebeca> i would not have minded my drink being paid for.
<rebeca> class warfare is the only solution in lana'i.
<rebeca> the millionaires sit and sip mai tais on the patios with hawaiian music
<rebeca> crooning "cry for the people, cry for the land that was taken away" in the
<rebeca> background
<prime8> well, that's because they're smarter and more sensitive
<prime8> the rules of darwinian/economic selection have put them where
<prime8> they rightly belong
<flint> mentat class most likely
<prime8> hehe.... no, WE'RE their mentat class
<rebeca> lana'i is so beautiful. i kept scribbling in my journal, is it necessary for
<rebeca> all this evil to create something so good?
<prime8> rebeca: of course it's necessary
<prime8> civilization would collapse without the bold vision of rich
<prime8> people
<prime8> that's why they're rich
<prime8> because they have vision
<rebeca> i am thinking of moving there (to lanai) to work at the resorts as well.
<rebeca> but it is the pet quarantine that gives me pause
<lerner> resorts are very destructive. work on a soy farm.
<flint> sounds like the stonestown mall
<lerner> rebeca: exactly. go work on a soy farm.
<prime8> or teach english in japan
<rebeca> hm
<lerner> or help clean up environmental disasters on military bases in
<lerner> russia
<Cindy> soy farm?
<flint> or better still, teach english here in the US
<rebeca> there are environmental disasters due to former military bases in hawaii
<rebeca> and guam.
<rebeca> there is this island called moloka'i where lepers were dropped off and
<rebeca> abandoned. they would be pushed off a boat and if they survived
<rebeca> swimming to shore, they would live in the leper colony. some minister
<rebeca> dude came in and helped them organize a self sufficient community that
<rebeca> exists to this day
<rebeca> people now complain because that peninsula is one of the most beautiful
<rebeca> and lush in all of hawaii and the lepers cannot be kicked out and the land
<rebeca> cannot be taken away from them. access is available only to those who
<rebeca> are invited or have some super-restricted pass.
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Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg mars@bossanova.com. All rights Reserved.