While catching up on the latest clusterfuck in Syria (you know, the one time military murder wasn't perpetrated on civilians, the destroyed jet that has everyone asking "hey, aren't we about due for World War III?") my attention was drawn away by another, slightly less hum-drum bit of news.
"A landslide near a jade mine in northern Myanmar on Saturday evening killed about 100 people"
Wait, jade? Who the hell still mines jade? We're in the third millennium, not the third millennium in the other direction. The Chinese emperor, whoever he is, hides behind the smokescreens of corporate entities and makes his mountain-ranges of money off overpriced aspirin, petroleum and i-phones like every other fat-cat. I mean, with our other shiny pebble caveman status symbols, at least the likes of gold and diamonds retain some minor, flimsy, half-baked pretext of industrial use to mock-justify (mockify?) their value, but there's gotta be an easier way to get silica than outta freakin' jade! Sand jumps to mind.
Eh, I suppose it's still better than most of the poverty and grief caused by our world's various imperialist funnels of wealth. When South-American peasants get tortured to death by CIA-trained fascist regimes to raise my bananas I just end up shitting out the product of their suffering half a day later. On the other hand, my jade bling can impress da laidieezzz for years to come.
I know what I want for Christmas!
Fuck gold. It's jade, frankincense and myrrh all the way, baby!
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