APOCAPITALYPSE noun

[əˈpɑkæpɪtəˌlɪps]

Complete economical and societal collapse ensuing from a crash of the capitalist system

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When long gone is the time of easy groceries packaged and delivered to a shop down the street from you, when you are left to fend for yourself in a world where resources have been made so scarce cannibalism has become a frightful but necessary reality, when you realise that practicing that cannibalism on the rich would not only be your best option but also the most karmically appropriate, you will have this cookbook. Cooking the Rich, a survival cookbook for the apocapitalypse.

Introduction

-RICH MEAT-

The shareholder

The CEO

The tech bro

The top executive

The economist

The financier

The corporate lawyer

The real estate giant

The influencer

The politician

Bonus option: the Pope

-PREPARATIONS-

Utensils

Side ingredients

“Only two hundred million dollars, this year…?”

-A shareholder receiving his dividends

Let us start with the crème de la crème, the rich of the rich, someone so far up the GDP-money end of the wealth scale that I'm pretty sure his newborns were shouting, “Ka-ching, motherfuckers!” as they came out of the womb with their middle fingers up. I’m talking about the shareholder. And yes, I did write “his newborns,” I will be using male pronouns and possessive adjectives for the rich throughout most of this cookbook. God knows what the apocapitalypse would have made of it now but back then we had an old patriarchal rule, that the world should be owned and ruled primarily by men on the basis of because.

To understand what a shareholder was, you need to know what putting the words ‘share’ and ‘holder’ together meant in the context of capitalism. It’s about as dull and uninspiring as you must be telling yourself it sounds, but then again not everything can be about the gruesome details of post-apocapitalyptic cannibalism. See, back then we had companies that did very important things, like turning cows into handbags that cost the average folk two solid months of running-around because they looked “unassumingly chic,” or “absolutely stunning,” or some other silly hyperbole that promised you merchandise was finally going to fill the void in your expensive but empty life (to give you but one example). These companies were broken down into little parts called ‘shares’ (not physically broken down but more, like, in the ether kind of), and each of these shares defined ownership for that little part in a company that was altogether being shared by multiple owners. As the name suggests, the shareholder was someone who held some of these shares (so very tightly in his financial clutches).

Before we continue, it should be said that technically any folk, even if they were of the average running-around type, could acquire one or multiple shares in one or multiple companies. But it should also be said that, capitalism being excellent at keeping the right things in proper order, all significant levels of ownership in all significant companies were held mostly by the rich (these levels of ownership often being at least a part of what had made them so rich, and what was making them richer with every passing nano-second yet). The shareholder you’ll want to eat definitely was one of these rich bastards, who held great parts or the entirety of one or multiple big companies, and saw huge money perpetually drop from the sky for doing fuck-all or close to it. Sharehawkers, as I suggest we call them for further reference. 

So, the sharehawker was someone who owned great parts or the entirety of a big company, usually because he had created it for a microscopic fraction of its current value, because he had gotten it from daddy, or because he had gotten another one from daddy and then traded parts of this one for parts of that one. [...]