Nursery Crimes

I was sent a link by a friend to 'Global Rich List'. It’s a site that shows you how rich you are. I am very, very rich. In global terms there are approximately 6,000,000,000 people poorer then I am. Chances are if you are reading this, there are approximately 6,000m people poorer then you too.

Makes you think. Makes you think if I could earn what I earn now in a country with no economy and a terrible socio-economic outlook, I’d be king. God. God King.

I have made up some nursery rhymes to be taught in my numen-monarchy.

“God King Con,
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he,
He called for anything he wanted;
And got it because he was rich.”

And

“The King was in his counting house,
Counting all his monets,
The Queen was in the parlour,
with all the other beauty queens,
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes,
Along came a blackbird
And pecked off her nose.
It’s easy to get a new maid.”

And a last one

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,
Did nothing because the king doesn’t reward stupidity.”

And people say the rich aren’t happy. Stupid unimaginative poor people. If I were rich, I’d be deliriously, irrationally, incoherently, happy. If course, I am rich. I just need to be elsewhere to realise it.