As Hemingway observed to Fitzgerald, “The rich are different”. In the midst of the market meltdown Sotheby’s sold $200 million of Damien Hirst’s art.
It was as if Sotheby’s here was a little oasis far removed from the grim news of the financial world. In less than 24 hours, giant tanks of dead sharks, zebras and piglets submerged in formaldehyde; glass cabinets filled with medical supplies, cigarette butts or diamonds; paintings and drawings of everything from dots to skulls — 223 works all by the British artist Damien Hirst — were snapped up at a brisk clip by collectors from all parts of the globe.
Meantime, Fendi says that sales are brisk for this little $27,000 handbag.
At what point do we enter the dystopian universe of class warfare where the oligarchs move from inside their walled communities in their bullet proof limos surrounded by private security guards through mean streets of the angry unemployed to their gaurded office towers?
Will we still call it a democracy?