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Once upon a time folks looked at breeding money the way Americans look at breeding siblings. Something that shouldn't be done. A perversion. An act that takes a thing that's supposed to be barren and makes for bad offspring.
The janitor's about to review something I told you back in Chapter 9 -
Breeding money's how we got to plastic sacks
Although truth be told the janitor should have used the term 'inbreeding'. Because once humankind had wrangled a couple dollar bills they took to mating them like dogs. But don't forget. The first two dollars they started with were family.
It's 1987.
We're twenty generations deep in a bog of inbred genes.
If you've ever seen a white plastic grocery sack blowing across your tidy suburban street and found the sight ugly, grotesque, malformed, revolting or offensive to your senses . . .
if you've ever stumbled upon a white plastic sack stuck in the muck of a gutter and thought of all the disagreeable aspects of the frustrated, frightened century in which you live, this jangled century of trash and heavy industry and total waste . . .
Consider its pedigree. Consider the family tree.
By C.K. Turner5
2121 ratings
Once upon a time folks looked at breeding money the way Americans look at breeding siblings. Something that shouldn't be done. A perversion. An act that takes a thing that's supposed to be barren and makes for bad offspring.
The janitor's about to review something I told you back in Chapter 9 -
Breeding money's how we got to plastic sacks
Although truth be told the janitor should have used the term 'inbreeding'. Because once humankind had wrangled a couple dollar bills they took to mating them like dogs. But don't forget. The first two dollars they started with were family.
It's 1987.
We're twenty generations deep in a bog of inbred genes.
If you've ever seen a white plastic grocery sack blowing across your tidy suburban street and found the sight ugly, grotesque, malformed, revolting or offensive to your senses . . .
if you've ever stumbled upon a white plastic sack stuck in the muck of a gutter and thought of all the disagreeable aspects of the frustrated, frightened century in which you live, this jangled century of trash and heavy industry and total waste . . .
Consider its pedigree. Consider the family tree.