Treehouse: The wealth you're parodying is real life here—stop making it a vibe

Just a thought…

It seems like “eat the rich” these days doesn’t actually mean what it used to mean.

Like, it’s supposed to be about dismantling systems of exploitation, right? About holding accountable the people who hoard wealth while others can’t afford rent or healthcare or basic dignity. That version? I’m here for it. Fully. Always.

But somewhere along the way it morphed into this… performance.

Now it’s people without money appropriating or parodying what they think rich people are like. It’s mimicking wealth to mock it, but also kind of… aspiring to it? It’s this weird thing where you’re supposed to hate the rich but also obsess over their aesthetics, their brands, their lifestyles. It’s “eat the rich” while saving up for the knockoff version of whatever they’re wearing. It’s rage-posting about billionaires from a phone you went into debt for.

It’s become less about systemic change and more about… vibes? Like performative class consciousness that doesn’t actually do anything except make people feel morally superior while they’re still participating in the exact same structures.

And look—I’m from Malibu. My parents’ house is somewhere between six and twelve million dollars. I’m not pretending I’m not part of this conversation in a complicated way. I am the rich, or at least adjacent to it, whether I asked for that or not.

But I’m in full support of the concept of eat the rich—the real one, the one that demands equity and accountability and redistribution—until this stops.

Until we stop treating wealth disparity like an aesthetic. Until we stop performing outrage without action. Until “eat the rich” means something again beyond a trending sound or a slogan on a shirt you bought at the mall.

Because there are people actually struggling. People driving hours to work jobs that barely cover gas. People one car breakdown away from losing everything. And they’re not thinking about eating the rich. They’re just trying to survive them. Trying to exist in a system that’s rigged against them while people with way more resources perform solidarity they don’t actually practice.

So yeah.

Eat the rich.

But like… actually mean it.

Pause.

Anyway.
Just a thought.

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Treehouse: He swirls metal cans bringing me wings—I'm his lifeline, but we'll never hang out.