If there's a problem in the world-literally any problem-you can bet there's a billionaire behind it somewhere, exacerbating untold suffering for their own personal gain. War, famine, pestilence, and death aren't so much apocalyptic horsemen as line items and write-offs, holes collected on a punch card where the fifth atrocity is free.
We, the non-rich, are wildly outclassed, millions of us cobbling together less money for a righteous cause than what some gold-leafed CEO wipes their ass with. Lasting change can feel like a Sisyphean task, and uncoupling society from corporate greed seems damn near impossible this far into the future.
Honestly, some days it feels like our only recourse is to, quite literally, Eat The Rich.
Within these pages, you'll find a collection of carnivores, cannibals, cryptids, and creophagous compost committed to consumerist chaos and capitalist comeuppance.
We may not be able to actually fix the world with this book, but goddamn if we're not going to feel a little better after.
