my billionaire pen pals

Photo of Repar T doing his Sean Connery impression

Sup y'all

Repar T here to tell you about my billionaire pen pals.

They are familiar names to most of the capitalist world. Elon, Vladimir, Bill, Mark, Jeff, Mark. You get the drift. But like pen pals have always done, we have developed pet names for each other.

Instead of Repar T, I have been called such tender terms of endearment as ‘Crapper T.’ At the same time I’m more playfully known as ‘Teezer’ by my long-time pen pals, which most of them are.

For my part, I call Elon, ‘Rocket Man,’ and Vladimir is ‘Vlad the Bad.’ Mark Z is Mork because he really goes way beyond being a geek—he’s a total fucking alien.

When you get to know them, they actually start to seem like regular people who just make different assumptions about reality than most people. A lot of people think they’re just out of touch. But I have to ask, ‘Out of touch with what?’

If you ask me, most people I know would actually rather be out of touch with some portion of their reality. When you get right down to it, it’s the billionaires who make sure the reality most people experience is one they’d rather be out of touch with, which to billionaires is like giving the masses a raison d’être.

The thing is, they really do live in a different reality. In fact, they are trapped in a different reality. In one sense, you could call it a form of  ‘quantum entanglement.’ They don’t have any fucking choice in the matter. It’s a reality that warps and perverts the psyche and distorts the identity in ways that seem inhuman to anyone with empathy in any degree.

In truth, they don’t want anyone to see who they really are. They don’t really like themselves all that much. That’s why they work so hard at making their lives look desirable. It’s really all about messaging and perception, and, of course, exploitation.

They’re just playing the game you have to play in their reality. You’re doing the same thing…

I’m starting to ramble now, so I’ll end for now, but I don’t want to close-out without mentioning Roman Paparazzo. He’s the only billionaire pen pal who has consented to allow his side of our correspondence to be published.

Naturally, Roman Paparazzo is a nom de plume because he wants to remain anonymous. You can learn more about Roman over on the ‘fuq’ page. Roman has some really surprising views for a billionaire.

Does this mean he is not a psychopath?

Not in the least. After all, he is, like all his fellow billionaires and billionairesses, a Homo sapien like you and me.

Your pen pal,

Repar T

Image of Elon Musk generated by Stable Diffusion AI

Mars or Bust!

Dear Rocket Man, Sup bruh… Damn, dude. You really stepped in a steaming pile of it this time. You act like you’re just fucking bored, dude. Just creating drama for the sake of drama. Making babies, saying you’re just doing your part to prevent population collapse, buying social

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Postcard from Roman P to Repar T featuring a view of the Tower Bridge in London with foreground image of a reparTEE saying Just fine. How about you?

Just fine. How about you?

Sup bruh, Helsinki was kind of a bust for me, dude. It was great too see Lenni, and hang out with her for a couple of days, but, I swear, when it comes to Peter Pan, I just can’t unsee Hook. That movie changed Peter Pan for me,

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Postcard from Roman P to Repar T featuring a view of The Songbird Wall in Chicago with a male in the foreground wearing a reparTEE displaying the message, ‘Fight Truth Decay.’

Fight TRUTH decay

Sup bruh, I came to Chicago to spend a few days with my childhood friend, Rodrigo. Rodrigo lives in Barcelona and is an occasional guest harpist with many of the symphony orchestras throughout Europe. He is in Chicago to oversee some minor repairs on his favorite Salzedo harp

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