Only the Strong Can Wear the Fancy Pants

The Way We Live Now: Kicking 'em while they're down. The vulnerable, we mean. They're the easiest ones to kick, we find. Just laying there, on Bleecker Street, vulnerable. Daddy needs some $700 pants, so somebody's getting kicked.

Sometimes it's hard to understand why so many Americans are poor these days. We attribute it to weakness. Getting money is as easy as stealing the valuable scrolls from a synagogue. What, do people assume that 'God' will protect their valuables? News flash: God doesn't work for the Pinkertons, and if he did...well, the point is it's easy to steal shit from a synagogue.

It's also easy to raid Alaskan homeless camps, where you can pick up all sorts of free twine.

Bleecker Street has gentrified. No more standing on the corner of Bleecker with the hobos. No more renting $100 per month lofts on Bleecker. No more open air crack markets on Bleecker. Bleecker is no longer a place you fear to tread at night. Poor? Bleecker's not where you live. No bargains to be found on Bleecker.

So are we just supposed to give up, then, because we moved here to New York with nothing but a heart full of hope and a dream to one day live on an ungentrified Bleecker Street? I think not. I think what we do is reach right down into the waistband of our $780 khaki pants and withdraw the automatic pistol that we carry there and start robbing people, right there, on Bleecker Street. Gentrification is good for business. The business of jacking rich people. And business is booming, baby. Because we're ruthless. Not as ruthless as the cops. But ruthless enough for Bleecker Street.

[Pic via]