Original: http://www.opednews.com/articles/Ink-by-Keith-Pope-100401-932.html

Ink

They lied to you. The most valuable material in the world is not gold or diamonds and stuff. It's ink.

Look, I type a '1' on my computer, think a bit and then add some noughts, think a bit more, and add some more noughts until it looks about okay.

I call my pal, a banker wheel, and tell him as I would a piffling kid, "Hey Allie, or Bernie or whoever, you've been chosen to be blessed. I'm sending you over some money. You'll find it in your account. It's genuine. And just remember my interest, eh?" and, like it's Happy Hanukkah, "Just look in your account." Then I slap the 'send' button on my computer. Whew, this work!

Allie, or Bernie or whoever looks in his account and he sees the numbers written in genuine ink, not your falsified stuff, and he believes, and says "Wowie, thanks, O Jakey, you and G-d be praised, and I mean that."

Because of the laws they made a few hundred years ago to stop bankers being too provident and expansive, this now lets Allie, or Bernie or whoever say to his many banker friends, "Look, forget this chicken-and-egg garbage, you can have some money, but just you remember to pay me my capital and interest on time, got that?" And he legally mixes up and brings into being some of his own ink and lends out to the bankers nine times the amount I sent him. That's falsification, you say? Fraud, you say? If you do it, sure, but we paid a lot of ink to get that 'legal' tag on it for us. And all these bankers see this miraculous genuine ink in their accounts and say, "Wowie, O Allie, or Bernie or whoever, you and G-d and proliferation be praised."

Now these bankers have many corporate friends who have organisations called corporations, which means they don't have to pay taxes until they want to pay taxes if they want to pay taxes, and being corporations gives them the use of this money to play with until or despite then. So these bankers say to their corporate friends, "We've decided to let you have that loan you're always wanting, so just look in your accounts, and let's just don't forget our capital and interest." And in obedience to the foresight of those who went before and had the authority of the financial muscle to make it a law - again inscribed in genuine ink - that they could, these bankers also mix up and bring into being some of their ink and lend out nine times the amount that they have received from Allie or Bernie or whoever's bounty.

Falsification and fraud again, you say? and then if we can do it you can do it? Zat so? Well you can try it if you like, but we paid a lot of finely-placed ink to make sure that you'll end up where you'll end up if you do.

And the corporate friends all now look in their accounts and see the numbers in this genuine ink, and they say, "Wowie, we've jointly and severally got it made."

Then they call up the various bosses of their many companies and tell them, "You can have some more cash for those projects, but just you remember to come up with some better profits this time, and make it snappy, eh? It's the bottom line that counts, and only the bottom line, got that?"

And the bosses say, "Sure sure," and to their workers, "If you want pay for like food and mortgage and stuff, then work, damn you, work! And if you don't wanna eat, then get the hell out and make way for those who do! And if you don't work enough, then we'll sure pretty soon shift production to somewhere they do! OK already."

The money the workers are paid is just paper with more of my precious genuine ink on it, and the all-important numbers too so the idiots will know what it means - Oh, and tasteful images of their monarchs and presidents and local heroes and stuff to inspire them to loyalty and patriotism in case we want them at war yet again to help the armaments section of the economy and decrease the population some for the economy.

So the workers work like hell and make things, and the salesmen and advertisers sell these in a frenzy to the idiot public, who all buy them and have to pay sales tax on them as their leaders dictate, as prescribed by what we have told them or don't they want the money we pay them to so dictate - Are they leaders or what? And the workers also have to pay taxes on the money they earn with their sweat, or what the hell, d'you think this is la-la land or something? Of course, don't we all have to pay taxes as sure as death and . . .? Zackly!

And the taxes of all kinds come back to me via the emotionless zombies of the tax-collecting arm of my world organisation, and I lend this loot back to the countries in the same way again as more ink - genuine ink, of course. And what's left over, which represents all the work of the world, I pay into my Trusts, together with all the repaid capital and interest return on the original amount of ink. And my said Trusts are tax-exempt because I say they're tax-exempt, got that? Yeah, and again I got that inscribed in genuine ink, which cost me some more ink.

And, no, what I do with what's in my Trusts is none of your damn business, which is why we call them black projects, and you won't live to see any other reason, though we will. But if between now and then the earth happens to heave up under your feet any time and one of our tunnelling machines pops up beside you, just ignore it because someone navigated an error and it ain't there, got that? Happy . . . Er, how do you spell keddyclism anyway?

All this, just for a bit of ink from me.

Now do you see how valuable ink is? The answer is yes. You got that?

So you just keep on keeping on paying, and the world will keep turning. Because, as you see, it's the ink that makes it go round and has been for six thousand years. No, as it tells you very clearly and sincerely, written in genuine ink in your bible, any 'before that' didn't exist. Is that clear?

Because if they should ever stop believing and paying and being paid . . .

So just you remember to talk to them like to piffling kids, or for sure they ain't gonna believe it, you hear me? I mean, if you knew, would you?

So, that's ink, spelled c-h-u-t-z- . . . Er, woops.

Thanks for your time, and see ya around.

Home