This has nothing to do with precious metals.
Over the course of any week, I read a lot of articles. Sometimes unrelated stories form connections in my head. Such a connection was made recently between two unrelated items: Elliott Rodger (the Isla Vista killer, who murdered six people and himself) and Wendi Deng, the soon-to-be-ex-wife (his third) of Rupert Murdoch.
Elliott Rodger, who wrote a 140 page “manifesto” before he began his killing spree, spelled out the entire history of his life from his point of view, and laid bare the rage and disgust he had against humanity, particularly women. He was really, really, really hung up on having a gorgeous blonde girlfriend (indeed, I did a search for the word “blonde”, and it shows up 62 times), but at 22, he hadn’t even had his first kiss.
(Side note: one of my superpowers that I’ve never revealed is a gaydar more powerful than a team of psychologists; I offer my assurance, based on nothing more than a still image of this guy, that he was gay, and very conflicted about it. But I digress).
Rodger was quite intelligent, but very naive. He was convinced that the most straightforward way to get reliable sex with the woman of his dreams was to be rich, and then, finally, he could be happy. He wrote, for example:
Mother had a few of her friends over, and she bought a lot of delicious food. After stuffing myself with portions from every dish and drinking multiple glasses of wine, I went on a long and peaceful walk on the beach, wishing that I had a girlfriend to walk beside me. Before I went to bed, I thought a lot more about the possibility of becoming rich. If I was a millionaire and owned a house like the one I was spending that night in, I could have any girl I want. Being in that position would make up for all of the misery I’ve had to go through in the past… and making up for it is my most important goal in life. My one wish is to feel satisfied for the way my life is.
Well, let’s test that theory. Let’s direct our attention to Rupert Murdoch who isn’t a “millionaire’ but, instead, is a multi-billionaire. Based on Rodger’s theory, Rupert should be endlessly and absolutely ecstatic about the marvelous, gorgeous women in his life. A billion is a thousand times larger than a million, so my God, Murdoch must be endlessly ecstatic and fulfilled, right?
But wait, what’s this?
“[Deng] got angry at [Murdoch] and shoved him, and he fell backwards into the piano in the living room and then onto the floor, and he couldn’t get up,” says an individual to whom Rupert confided at the time. “He had to have emergency treatment that night.” The former News Corp. employee in the U.K. adds, “He clearly hurt himself, and he made some excuse that he tripped over something in the office. He made excuses that he wasn’t well. He only talked about what happened later.”
Besides her proclivity for domestic violence, she also seems to have a really nasty, hateful streak. Here, in a note to herself, she references one of the many guys with whom she was allegedly cheating (AKA screwing), Eric Schmidt, the billionaire big-wig from Google, the firm that cares so deeply about women……..
In the aforementioned note to herself, Wendi wrote, “Eric fucks Lisa,” presumably referring to Eric Schmidt and Lisa Shields, vice president of media affairs at the Council on Foreign Relations, whom Schmidt reportedly dated. “Lisa will never have my style, grace …. I achieved my purpose of Eric saw me looking so gorgeous and so fantastic and so young, so cool, so chic, so stylish, so funny and he cannot have me. I’m not ever feel sad … about losing Eric …. Plus he is really really ugly. Unattractive … and fat. Not stylish at all try to wear hip clothes …. I’m so so soo soooo happy I’m not with him.”
What’s funny, of course (besides the gross visual image of Eric Schmidt nude) is that Deng sees herself as stylish, graceful, and attractive, when, in fact, she has no class and, let’s face it, isn’t exactly a delight for the eyes.
So let’s flip back to the late Mr. Rodger for more of his wisdom………
I couldn’t help but feel a bitter form of envy at all of the rich kids at the concert. They grew up in lavish mansions, indulged in excessive opulence, and will never have to worry about anything in their pleasurable, hedonistic lives. I would take great pleasure in watching all of those rich families burn alive. Looking at all of them really drilled in my mind the importance of wealth. Wealth is one of the most important defining factors of self-worth and superiority. I hated and envied all of those kids for being born into wealth, while I had to struggle to find a way to claim wealth for myself. I had to be ruthless, and do whatever it takes to attain such wealth. After all, it was my only hope of ever being worthy of getting a girlfriend and living the life of gratification that I desire.
So, look, I am not the wisest soul on the planet, but in this life, I have learned a couple of things. First of all, money isn’t the way to happiness. Believe me, I’ve got more money than most people, and I’m hardly ever happy (in case you hadn’t figured that out yet). And second, if you are a man who really thinks that women can and should be “bought” – – – that a relationship can be based on this quid pro quo (“quid’ being cash, and “quo” being tail), you’re in for a big, big surprise.
As They Might Be Giants so truly spoke……….No one in the world ever gets what they want, and that is beautiful. Everyone dies frustrated and sad, and that is beautiful.