Omnivores by Lydia Millet

Omnivores by Lydia Millet

Author:Lydia Millet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2018-05-24T16:00:00+00:00


OBSERVATION 2: HOMO SAPIENS

There is a tariff for being alive.

“Shit,” said Pete Magnus, “it goes without saying. Most natural thing in the world. Gotcher resources, right? Then you got demand, you got free enterprise, Adam Smith, wealth of nations, gotcher highest bidder your lowest seller and bingo.”

“Who’s Adam Smith?” asked Estée.

“Some guy in business school, made these videos about I forget exactly what, maybe how to be a self-starter or like the difference between tax avoidance and evasion. Video called Wealth of Nations they showed us. Anyway, my point is you gotta get there first. The three elements are timing, speed, and vision. Like I’ll see a property and I’ll jump onto it, oftentimes I find out the next day I beat another guy out by a hair. A hair’s breath.” He muted a commercial and changed channels, settling on basketball highlights played to the droning voice of a commentator. She got up to get him the beer and one for herself.

In Bill’s house she had taken objects for granted. Clearly their apparent willingness to serve had been deceptive. In the new world she was unowned, but also owned nothing. There was a link. No good to ask Pete Magnus. His efforts were wholly directed toward expansion. She was interested in subsistence.

“Way it works, one guy sees the other guy needs something, so he makes it for him, that is if he has what we call comparative advantage, Esty. That’s when the opportunity cost of producing something is less than what it costs to buy it. Gotcher trade-off ratios, your production possibility curves, all that shit Esty. Comparative advantage. If you’re lucky Esty, you got what we call absolute advantage. Ab-solute advantage. That’s when you got something no one else got. What you gotta do, you trade your labor in for money, spend the money on buying things. You turn time into goods Esty. It’s like magic.”

Even the air had become commodified, every segment of the earth apportioned off to an entrepreneur. There was no plot of land anywhere not laid claim to by a number, not described by other numbers, kidnapped and held for ransom to anyone whose hapless body, with dimensions and wants far beyond its control, chanced to rest on its surface. The earth was a grid, subdivided by owner.

“Shit, this isn’t cold. Fuckin warm beer, make me sick.”

“I don’t like that,” she said. “Time into goods.”

“Surprised your dad didn’t tell you about business. It’s like the only thing that guy’s not wacked about. He knows business, Esty. What did he talk about all your life? I mean, Christ. Didn’t you go to school?”

“I did before,” she said, “but then he took me out.”

“Jesus Esty. Fuckin weird.”

“I brought some things to sell,” she said. “Jewelry and stuff.”

“Jewelry, that won’t keep you in socks Esty. You better stay with me. We’ll figure out something. I’ll show you the ropes Esty. Teach you some skills. Found out those shares are for real, he bought ’em through his broker and converted them to street.



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