there's something interesting in their lives. It's musical chairs in reverse. Every time the muzak stops
people stand up and dance around the world, and more chairs are added to the circle, more marinas and
Marriott hotels, so everyone thinks they're winning.
Today's tourist goes nowhere.
All the upgrades in existence lead to the same airports and resort hotel. the same pina-colada bullshit.
The tourism smile at their tans and their shiny teeth and think they're happy.
But the suntans hide who they really are - salary slaves, with heads full of American rubbish.
Travel is the last fantasy the 20th Century left us, the delusion that going somewhere helps you reinvent
There's nowhere to go. The planet is full. You might as well stay at home and spend the money on
And the Third World doesn't gains nothing. Gags of coolies who mix the cement and lay the runways.
A select few get to mix the cocktails and lay the tourists. They're the real victim.