In my reeducation camps you'll find only the best scotch. And tea. But no coffee - that will be banned from all areas of life, every sphere of our revolutionary world.
I'm sick of hearing about it. I can barely write or say the word.
Starbucks can remain, however, for the sake of the lemon pound cake. But they'll serve no coffee. Tea and scotch from 6am onward, with wine starting at a civilized 2pm - that's the universal drinks menu.
Some of us from the Flyover States will all be drunkenly laughing as we move into George Clooney's houses and take over Matt Damon's ranch and suchlike. In quieter moments, with our tea, we'll all recite from the Book of Kafka, and eat gumbo from Jamie Oliver's skull.
Can I still live in the hills of Virginia! asks a counterrevolutionary friend.
Absotively! I encourage it, once you are released from the camp. Just remember that when the wind shifts, the smoke from the ruins of the wealthier suburbs of Washington, D. C. will sting your eyes a bit.
This will be the first revolution against overweening pretension and condescension. So Warren Buffet is safe, but George Soros is hosed.
But of course, the ultimate goal is the incarceration of Bono until he signs the confession.
And anyone caught with a Che Guevara T-shirt will suffer some sort of indignity. Walter Salles will certainly be relieved of his $2.6 billion in assets and cash, and he will be forced to watch The Motorcycle Diaries backwards for the rest of his natural life.
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