We teeter on the brink of world financial ruin and a return to the days of trading fucking seashells for food, every fucking day. Worse. It wouldn’t even be like Mad Max. Do you even comprehend how sad that is? Nobody runs Bartertown. That’s the thing, lad. It’s a runaway process. The absolute best thing anyone can do is grab desperately at the throttle. But they don’t. Because it’s a speeding death kaleidoscope made out of tits.”
