WarFair4: Rogue-Citizen The Day the Market(s) stood still... Into The Abyss... Global-Citizen. 1. She. 'It is like living in a rabbit hutch' She often said metaphorically, and He replied with a shrug. Nothing to say in reply. It was;and it would take long enough to pay for. Eight-floors up. Looking over the street below, now starting to become busy with traffic... They had lived with his parents for a time, and then after they were married in a small rented flat in The City, before they needed to afford somewhere to live together, and to bring-up their two small children. The home was bought with a loan, a promissory note, deposited and co-lateraled together with the home itself. They were afloat. Both worked to pay-off the loan, which although it was supposed to reduce each year did not seem ever to keep up with pay and prices. If they managed to keep paying-off the loan for the shelter from the storm, as a song, as they called Home. That they did not now own, and may not ever actually own, lose-lose. To sell-back at Market Price, the difference between the paid-back buying-price and selling-price, of which they would have lost completely to The Bank...The Mortgage Company. No recourse and be homeless to parents and over-crowding again, or with friends similarly fixed sofa surfing. Their home, such as it was re-possessed. A two-bedroom apartment, she thought of: kitchen, lounge, bathroom toilet and tiny balcony onto the world below, between them and the sky above. The Home, The Loan would have been paid for several times over by the time if ever it became theirs and The Children's'; and perhaps even their Grandchildren's' by the time the shared building was uninhabitable, demolished land rented freehold...leasehold...but that is the nature of the human animal, is it not? To do over, and be done over to again and again? She thought: want more and more, for less and less? and in the quiet mind wandering moment of pillared door a room, a table, a bed let go and a bed sheet left behind, ready to be buried with perhaps, as they did in the olden times, shrouded as now by thin curtains pulled-back. Each like a backwards step. Worked to pay off the loan on the house and to pay for food and bills and extras, clothes, and nights out, occasionally. Maybe once a month, or not at all. Then He had been laid-off work at The Bakery. Three-day-week, and three days wages. It has been said that love of money is the root of (many) evil(s) and a wandering from the path which has brought-upon us much pain. The lack (need) of money is so quite as truly. Samuel Butler (1835-1902 ME) EREWHON Ch. 20 (amended after: The Old Testament: 1Timothy, and before Mark Twain (Mark Twain's Notebook 1909 ME). If the man and the woman bear their fair share of work, they have a right to their fair share of all that is produced by all, and that share is enough to secure them well-being. What we proclaim is The Right to Well-Being: Well-Being for All! Pyotr Kropotkin (1842 - 1921) The Conquest of Bread; Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution. Around10 p.m.on 16 December 2010, He had contracted approximately 450 dinarin debt to buy the produce He was to sell the following day. On the morning of 17 December. Bouzazzi started his workday at 8 a.m.Just after10:30 a.m., the police began harassing him again, ostensibly because He did not have a vendor's permit. Bouazizi did not have the funds to bribe police officials to allow his street vending to continue. Angered, went to the governor's office to complain and to ask for his scales back. The Governor refused to see him. Bouazizi then acquired a can of gasoline from a nearby gas station and returned to the governor's office. Bouzazz shouted, "How do you expect me to make a living?" then doused himself with the gasoline and set himself alight with a match at11:30 a.m.local time, less than an hour after the altercation. WarFair4: Rogue-Citizen The Day the Market(s) stood still... Into The Abyss... Global-Cit