The Way We Live Now: Eking out a hard living in cubicle hell while beauty dies, duh. We work without music. We work without pay. We work without jobs, just to say "Hey, one day."

Virgin Megastore is officially dead. Dead along with it is one of your top five theoretical backup jobs in the event of your layoff; the idea that selling music in a store could be a profitable endeavor; your own whimsical daydream about one day maybe opening up a little record shop, just the really cool shit, and just living that life; and the music industry as a whole.

Hell, Joan Kroc gave the Salvation Army $1.8 billion and it still can't scrape together enough to build a new swimming pool in Detroit. Argentina's not crying for you, buddy. At least you have a job. You better hold onto like the precious diamond that it is—a valuable gem made out of dirt that you squeeze really tight. You do what you must. You do what the boss says. You do what the boss doesn't say, just to scrape and give yourself that tiny edge that just might cause them to lay off Doris, the receptionist, instead of you, when the time comes. "Furloughs," they said. "Ten percent less in the check, but you get a few more days off each month," they said. What happened? You work right through those furlough days. Because there's too much work. It's kind of like a staycation, but at work, and minus the "-cation." Just a "stay."

Of execution? One might say that. Yes one might. Because your Stay could be a staycation—of poorness:

"The real problem is that long-term unemployment is going up dramatically," said Franklin Allen, finance professor at the Wharton School. "Unfortunately, many people in their late 40s and 50s may never get jobs again."

How do you like them apples? I hope you like them enough to sell, for nickels, for the next 30 years.

Send an email to Hamilton Nolan, the author of this post, at Hamilton@gawker.com.