A local San Diego company recruited junior naval officers, active or recently separated, to sell real estate in Apple Valley to their colleagues.

Any prospect who showed an iota of interest was hauled up with other prospective dupes to view the area, and select a prospective desert “lot”. Of course then the real HARD SELL began. And if you didn’t buy that day, the sales people hounded you for weeks.

Although the land was nearly worthless, the salesmen made a large commission on each sale. Moreover, a buyer who bought a lot often could sell it six months later to another, greater fool at a nice profit. The land appreciation was so great and so frequent that even the salesmen starting buying lots to flip, in addition receiving their large commissions.

It became so rampant that the Navy put out a decree that prohibited and Apple Valley land solicitation on their naval bases. But young naval officers with tales of large and nearly immediate returns on flipped land to their friends fueled a speculative fever like wildfire.

Naturally, it eventually all came crashing down. The principals skipped out to Mexico, wealthy. Most others ended up owning worthless land with a high mortgage. And these were highly educated, talented, and professional men. Although one of my squadron mates and roommate off base was one of the salesmen, along with two other close friends selling, I thankfully never bought – even after a rough and tumble hard sell (it almost came to blows) with two of the principles late one night.

It all was a valuable lesson than has saved me from stupid investments for the subsequent 40 years.

Might be interesting (if painful and detrimental for your career) to include ahem certain observations and id-outbursts a certain Mr. A. has been on the DL about recently, but would certainly entertain certain readers.

In all seriousness, you wouldn’t have to get too “offensive.” There’s a valid anthropological element there. After I moved back to Chicago from NY I literally couldn’t leave my house, I was so unmotivated, the lack of beautiful women destroyed my ability to navigate the world. It destroys the ability of friend groups to intermingle and have fun. Beautiful women give life to the social world, they solidify broad social networks and even prowling packs of males. One of the most disgusting elements of hanging with hippie guys was the sheer inability to admit “WE ARE OUT LOOKING FOR PUSSY.” A community of ugly women is a community of broken social bonds.

Remember how a lot of Americans were terrified that Communism after the Stalinist purges was a system where everyone, even the assassination-fearing dictator, was more miserable than they would be in a democracy and knew it, but each of them at each moment in time was better off trying to extend Communism and enslave more people than fight against it, so it sort of wound up growing like a tumor even though everyone knew how awful it was? Of course, arguably that’s a little truth and a lot of American paranoia, but it’s still a striking and scary concept that’s probably true in a lot of small groups at a lot of brief times, even if it wasn’t true for decades throughout all of global Communism.

A social system of heartless greed can be similarly corrosive and grow in the same way, even though again, most everyone knows they would be better off in a more charitable system. Like the (admittedly CIA assisted) Solidarity movement in Poland, or the 1890s Populists who started projects like Hull House or the Wobblies, you really have to work hard to effect any change on these large systems.

They say it’s better to have had (forget loved) and lost than to never have had at all.

When I lived in the US I would see a girl or two a week I might want to fuck and only one or two a year that I actually needed to fuck.

Now, while I walk through my SPB neighborhood in Ozerki I see a girl ever couple of minutes I want to fuck and at least 2-3 per day I need to fuck. When downtown on Nevski Prospect the numbers increase exponentially.

Knowing you once lived here yourself I’d empathize with you if I had the capacity. Having had and lost it is I think much more painful than never having had it at all like the average citizens of Victorville.

I don’t know how you do it.

Another would be the deep creek hot springs somewhere between Hesperia and Apple Valley. It used to just be a spot out in the desert where high school kids used to go fuck and do drugs in pleasantly hot water, but the land’s owner turned it into some kind of nudist resort.

Those poor rich people, why do we always forget their pain?

So I was now in trouble, she was hanging on my neck, crying, and I really didn’t want my shirt wet, plus what was I supposed to do with her? I only bought the diapers cause I was interested in the reaction (and $6 isn’t my hourly wage) and I yelled at the guards cause I was pissed. I didn’t do it out of compassion, but out of mere curiosity. And then it hit. No one really gives a shit about each other anymore.

It’s just about money. It’s all about money. You have money you’re respected, whether you earned it or not, you’re broke and on the street and you’re hated. When did we become fucking robots? When did money started trumping compassion? Love? Are we that racist against Mexicans? Yeah there are too many, but taking it out on a woman with a kid isn’t exactly getting your point across.

And don’t think the rich aren’t enslaved by money either. They are! Re-read Andrew Lahde’s letter, where he states that the rich give up families, leisure time, everything, they even marry for money, just to get nine figure wealth. When did this happen? When did humans enslave themselves to money? And what was the point of fighting the Civil War?

Any good Erin Brockovich style industrial waste scandals in Victorville’s past? Are you drinking the tap water? Does the library have archives of federally mandated city water quality reports going back a few years? I’d go live in a desert wasteland myself, if I had a magic faucet that pumped endless clean water, but reality out there is usually a bit worse.