I’d like to think so. When we read 1984 in high school, a friend and I were studying together. I remember saying (in my naïveté), “I loved the book and I get the history but why would you want to be in charge of a place that sucks?” She was like, “You’re just going to have to get used to the fact that a lot of people care about power more than beaches.”
Well, I still think those people are foolish. I’d rather be in charge of my own tiny slice of paradise than rule over some wack ass dictatorship where everyone else is miserable. Not wanting to be in charge is probably the basic pre-requisite for being a benevolent dictator. I like to cook for people and stuff. I’d use my power and wealth to do that.
That being said, I’m a dirtbag. I’d have a cool house somewhere with mountain and ocean views. Probably 3 or 4 beauty queens who also have Ms. Congeniality pageant sashes who are in charge of laughing at my jokes and charming me. No more than one or two rhythmic gymnastics teams that delight us all by throwing ribbons to each other with their feet. (Other apparatuses are cool too. Hula hoop. Clubs. Ball. Variety is the spice of life.)
I’d like to think so. When we read 1984 in high school, a friend and I were studying together. I remember saying (in my naïveté), “I loved the book and I get the history but why would you want to be in charge of a place that sucks?” She was like, “You’re just going to have to get used to the fact that a lot of people care about power more than beaches.”
Well, I still think those people are foolish. I’d rather be in charge of my own tiny slice of paradise than rule over some wack ass dictatorship where everyone else is miserable. Not wanting to be in charge is probably the basic pre-requisite for being a benevolent dictator. I like to cook for people and stuff. I’d use my power and wealth to do that.
That being said, I’m a dirtbag. I’d have a cool house somewhere with mountain and ocean views. Probably 3 or 4 beauty queens who also have Ms. Congeniality pageant sashes who are in charge of laughing at my jokes and charming me. No more than one or two rhythmic gymnastics teams that delight us all by throwing ribbons to each other with their feet. (Other apparatuses are cool too. Hula hoop. Clubs. Ball. Variety is the spice of life.)