I’m a whaler born in Nantucket and raised on the high seas. I have been working all my life for salty, God-fearing Quakers, going to church when I’m home and bringing home plenty of oil barrels for my employers in service of good old American capitalism. After many years of loyal service, I achieved the honorable rank of chief mate of the whaling ship Pequod. But now our ship has been hijacked by a raving, one-legged lunatic who cares nothing about the financial ruin of his crew or about making money for his employers but only about hunting down the whale who ate his leg. He will be the death of us all and is probably going to offend God and drag us all to hell on the back of a whale. I am the 99%.
Er, I'm not on the take with the coffee people, though. FYI.
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