Life has broken my heart. Please take in the full gravity of that opening sentence. After all of the many trials and tribulations I have lived through and survived I have finally been beaten. It's not a death in the family, a lost pet, job or missing teeth and it most definitely is not about a girl. For many years I have hummed along to the sounds of the Beatles and countless other bands preaching the intrinsic value of love and spiritual righteousness. I am heartbroken; an actual, physical ailment in the opinion of many doctors and scientists. The unholy and truly disturbing force behind my recent sickness is nothing more than a few pieces of paper with intertwined fibers and green ink. Love, my friends, does not make the world go 'round. Money does. Sad no? Yes. This is undisputable and rock solid truth. Of course I am not speaking from a scientific standpoint. That would involve the sun, stars, moon, female menstrual cycles and the earth's gravitational pull. There was a time, a more pure and much simpler time when the aforementioned things were indeed the driving forces behind the eternal tilt-a-whirl ride we haphazardly enjoy. But no more. The world of 2003 is a world that we as corrupt humans have created. We are our own worst enemy and what now makes the world go 'round is a frightening harvest sewn by those who have reaped it. Money makes the world go 'round. Don't get it twisted, I am not going to sit in a corner of a room and cry myself to sleep at night. But I feel that I have little or no control over the animal that I have become in order to survive. I am the tiger in Las Vegas, walking off of a stage that I never wanted to be on with my oppressor clenched between my obsessively sharpened teeth. The sequined jumpsuits, pyrotechnic displays and lavish, complimentary front row meals are all but a byproduct of a world that spins for monetary madness. I love money. There, I said it. I swear I did not want to say that but I had to. Love is not going to get me to Europe next summer; it is not going to satisfy my landlord next week or five weeks from now or even eleven weeks from now. Love won't let you drive a car off of the lot and you can't whisper sweet nothings into a gas tank. The television speaks to me incessantly and ruthlessly about why I need money. I must have money; it makes the world go 'round. "You gotta'' have money to be happy!!!!" my mother yells at me with her thick Queens accent. She is right. I used to argue with her until I was blue in the face. Now I am just trying to get some green in the pocket. Work, hustle, sell whatever, steal everything, EARN, EARN, EARN!!!! A very handsome and quite charming man once asked the question; "why do I waste valuable time on people who don't care if I live or die?" Don't look at me! I don't have the answer. I didn't make the rules; I'm just playing the game. I think that I am starting to play it well; you see I have a new plan. Make money! It makes the world go 'round, and if I could keep this planet in orbit then I could do anything. Feed my children, put them through college and teach them the most valuable lesson in life. Make money my dear children. With love you will only end up heartbroken, but with money you can create life. You can treat the earth like a Harlem Globetrotter treats a basketball. I can hear the familiar song now. Can't you all hear it? Like the lyrics to your favorite hip-hop jam it is calling on you to make 'dat money SON! Consume KID! Buy more and buy now! You buy NOW! "Excuse me sir, but if you aren't going to buy that magazine you have to leave now." But I write articles for this magazine and I love skateboarding. I especially like to look at the pretty pictures. "I don't care if you love skateboarding, love doesn't cover the cost of printing and publishing that magazine and don't think that I can't see the copy of Big Busted Black Beauties that you have tucked away inside that skate magazine!" Yes sir, I know all about the cost of living and it's Big Busted Black Beauties that employs me not the skateboarding magazine. He did not care. He didn't want to hear it. It is money, not love that makes the world go 'round. You know what I mean and you know who I am. I am the guy behind the wheel of every one of those cars being chased on televisions "Cops". I'm on the hunt and I am after you. Hold on to your wallet when you are on the L train pulling into Bedford Avenue. Your ridiculously high rent may become my property. Possession is nine tenths of the law and I am possessed. I am Charlie without the golden ticket, straight bum rushin' that chocolate factory. Willie Wonka aint' shit and Veruca was right; there is no such thing as snozberries. Bartender, give me a shot of fizzy lifter with a cheap beer chaser. No, I can't pay for it, unless you accept big hugs!
By: Andy Seifert
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