by John Rubino
Dollar Collapse
Paris during the Great Depression was full of unemployed people — and apparently it was awesome.
As the story goes, the City of Light circa 1934 offered few good jobs and little upward mobility – which is pretty much the definition of a capital-D Depression — so large parts of the population gave up and, relieved of the need to strive, simply lived in the moment. They lingered in cafes debating politics and philosophy and pursued their various arts for themselves rather than for an audience. And many found themselves loving it. As American writer Henry Miller described his Paris years, “I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive.”
Now fast forward to 2020. For millions of young people around the world, work had turned out to be worse than pointless. Most available jobs paid subsistence wages in return for unending repetition and little hope for promotion. The prospect of a lifetime waiting tables or sitting in a corporate cubicle was as soul-destroying as it was inescapable.