If I ran a School For Young Moguls, there would be a few rules. Everyone would wear a watch because time is money and money is a timepiece. Trust funds would be encouraged, but not required. We’d burn pennies.
At my School for Young Moguls there would be a dress code. Kaftans with Chelsea boots. Kimonos with kicks. I wouldn’t have students, only “Pre’Bosses.” Influence would be taught first as a verb.
If I ran a School For Young Moguls there would be only three concentrations: Brunch, Drinks, and Late Drinks. We’d grade papers in Paper. Benjamins would be As. Teachers would be age-capped at 25, except our janitor/DJ who would be 30 and someone’s cool older brother. Gym would be for ath-leisure. Math would be for poors.
At my school for Young Moguls there’d be no lockers. Everyone would store their belongings in satchels—on their horses. Mush, baby.
At my School For Young Moguls we’d teach all the important languages: English and Phone Call Voice. Tuition would cover books, or as we’d call them, “The Original Diss Tracks.” There would be many charts.
If I were in charge of a School for Young Moguls, I’d be respected. I’d accept meetings, but only if I were brought gifts like Japanese businessmen get in those movies. I would have many snow globes.
My school would be very hard to get into. People would talk about it in the streets. For example, “Have you heard about The School For Young Moguls?” “Yes – and I’ve heard it’s very hard to get into.” Something like that.
Indeed, if I ran a School For Young Moguls, Blue Ivy Carter would attend. She’d be in the 9th grade. She’d ace Nepotism—our only sport. Beyoncé would run the PTA. Jay-Z would want to meet me, but I’d say “no thank you.”
Yes, if I ran a School For Young Moguls it would be the best school around. The food would be catered. The learning would be fast. The tests would be loose. The pockets would be fat. The haters would be plentiful. The lines—we’d have no lines. Moguls don’t stand in lines.
If I had a school like this, some of you would be invited by dove-mail. Others I’d ignore. Most of you would be Others. If not, like I said, you’d get a dove. It would already be dead. It would be thrown through your window. It would be leafed in gold.
If I ran a School For Young Moguls, you could apply. But the waitlist would be very long. Like a mogul's life. Because moguls are rich and can afford good healthcare in a country where that's not guaranteed even though the US is a "superpower" and could totally afford it, and also do other things such as keep its citizens safe from, like, bullets—but moguls can hire bodyguards to die for them so guns schmuns, not to mention moguls have access to a secret underground city in case of meteor crash or animal-uprising, so really who cares about basic protections under the tenants of our Great Social Contract, so yes—you could apply. But you'd have to keep the windows open. For the dove. The dead dove.