The billionaire's patch of heaven in the gated palace is indeed a fleeting one. More and more one hears reports of billionaires and millionaires living in an abject state of fear, with surges in sales for sophisticated alarm systems, panic rooms, bulletproof glass, and even escape islands, bunkers, and air strips.
They wring their hands at Davos over problems of economy and governance, pore over sophisticated plans of neurological rewiring and genetic engineering, and engage in sweaty conversations over managing food supplies and controlling private security forces.
As David Graeber has pointed out about the Chicago industrialists living down the street from the local military base - whether factually or figuratively - those riding the crest of the wave have always been aware of its dynamics, living as if those sublime highs could come to an end at any moment.
And perhaps the image of a wave is not quite kinetic enough. They've collectively grabbed hold of the bare and hot wire; their muscles have seized up around it; they can't do much else but ride the lightning, while the rest of us burn.
Quite a juxtaposition of the heaven and hell images. Corporate bank accounts soar and the stock market swoons and then slurps back and swoons again. We're independent oil producers. We're going to space again. We'll have vast automated networks of self-driving cars and living smart houses in a decade or so. But wait, we're also tottering on the edge of ruin.
