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From the Editor (October 2005) I’ve refrained from discussing my day job in these hallowed pages out of respect for the institution that is AntiMuse. “But, Michael,” some of you may ask, “what of your daily occupation as a lecherous drunkard? Don’t you discuss that constantly?” Well, yes that remains one of my day jobs. Unfortunately, due to financial strains and an emaciated liquor budget, I was forced last August to take a position as a life insurance agent. Those of you in my inner circle know that I despise my line of work. As one of my co-workers explained, life insurance is one of the few legal pyramid schemes in existence. Those who buy into the system never reap the benefits of their purchase. Only those at the top—the company, the funeral homes, and the government that taxes each of your insurance premiums—reap the benefit of this twisted system. I have watched elderly women scrape together their last pennies to pay their life insurance premiums, just so their worthless kids won’t have to pay $6000 to the local funeral home. These aren’t million-dollar policies that will make the family rich. I’m talking about basic $10,000 policies that these people feel obligated to pay for month after month out of some sense of duty. Guilt and fear drives this industry--guilt about leaving behind mortal debts and fear of petty financial issues. The insurance industry is driven by the most crippling of human emotions. But don’t let that stop you from buying one of our fine policies. I really could use the money.
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