But at least you own an inconsequential receipt of someone else's success.
Let’s not kid ourselves: the “miracle” of stock market democratization is just a META branded leash. You’re not a co-owner of the means of production—you’re a co-observer of your 401(k) getting yo-yo’d by algorithms and corporate buybacks while the actual power remains in boardrooms and server farms. The only thing you own is the certainty that fed policy and cheap credit "make line go up."
Watching MAGA types parade around like they’ve cracked the code because they click "buy" on their Robinhood app while driving a lifted F-150 is pure comedy. “Co-owners of the means of production,” they cry, while guzzling Monster and livestreaming their freedom rants on platforms owned by trillion-dollar tech firms.

The Good Dr K(paras 93–94) warned against being hamsters cheering on a bigger wheel...Giving them stock options doesn’t change that—it just adds a ticker symbol to the treadmill.

This isn’t some triumph of economic justice—it’s gamified servitude, scaled globally. While you bellow “anyone with a proclivity for saving” can win, you mean is "anyone who’s already upstream in the machine", who can afford to play

Buying fractional shares of NVDA doesn’t make you an industrial baron—it makes you a lap dog cog with an data plan. Your idol terrorist would be supremely disappointed (p. 95) So congrats, you’re a model citizen of the machine: obedient, overstimulated, and proud of it.

You think the problem is "leftist losers bitching" because they don’t like being wage-chipped by shareholder overlords. But here’s the thing: your side has no plan either. Just flags, truck nuts, and vague nostalgia for a past that never actually existed. You’re not storming the Bastille with your Internet-found sig hauer—you’re yelling at clouds while BlackRock runs laps around your Roth IRA.

So keep telling yourself you’re “enjoying the spoils,” but deep down, you know: you’re not eating steak, you’re cheering for the butcher because he lets you lick the knife.