“The most perfect gentleman is Charles Swann. The son of a stockbroker, Swann is equally at home with his father’s bourgeois neighbors, with seedy bohemians, or with the Prince of Wales. None of whom know about the other worlds through which he moves. He is more aristocratic than any aristocrat. He is free of snobbery. He has beautiful manners. He is a friend to all men.” – “The Paris Review”

Sigh, the Buppies have their knickers in a twist.

Must be Monday.

I mean, stop being angry and help put the brother’s curriculum vitae together or ensure through your JD/MBA degrees he’s not being too exploited. Help get the Dodsons, and everyone, out the projects!

Anything functional.

Don’t just sit in your Jack and Jill of America McMansion, being self-righteous and smug and condemnatory, throwing shade.

How dare you judge someone, or anyone, who does not have your luck, privilege, and circumstance?

Progress. Forward. Get it done. Tick-tock. Always, be, closing – together.

Anything else is masturbatory.

Do you read me? Because if you’re not doing, and just… handing out your business card, well, then… I just will clutch my Cowrie shells.

And know you’re pointless.

Gator done!


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