How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Space Capitalism
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But everyone can hear the sound of the galactic dollar.
The sound of the dollar at the Exchange was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. It was the beep of the machine from a credit card swiped, a stock sold, or a deal signed. It was all the same, beautiful, high pitched ping. The kind of thing one fell in love with — like a first kiss, or a spring day on Mars after a long winter. It was the dollar being exchanged; money being made; it was riches won off of the backs of the unlucky or the stupid; it was sweet financial security; it was empires being forged. And nothing made him smile and giggle more like a baby seeing a dog for the first time than when that galactic dollar was being deposited into his own account. His own empire.