Let the kids grow up and believe they deserve more than they earn. show them ways to buy the things they want without waiting or working. give them jobs so they think they’re getting by or living the life they’re supposed to, but don’t pay them enough to get ahead. only give them enough money to eat the food you make and the clothes you sew, but not the education you had. this will keep them under your thumb. their perceived debt to you never has to end. you could own human beings, multiple human beings, for the entirety of their lives. all you have to do is make everything you were allowed to have slightly more expensive make all the jobs you used to work pay slightly less, and they will be clamoring at your doorstep for more debt so they can live the the illusion you created.
Effort and return:
We sit and eat and watch, effortless, while others play for us, useless, death,
Inflated and exalted, leeching life, dead
in spite of our heartbeat.
They work and produce what we consume, necessary, growth,
Laboured and tired, giving life, dead
in service of a better life.
Words spoken and written and agreed upon in meaning, clear, defined,
Created and evolved, describing reality, understood
Intentions confused in pretentious choices or purposeful misdirection, foggy, shapeless,
Hollowed and debased, meaning forgotten, understood
by no one.
We sing and dance and sip the wine, together, united,
Glorious and righteous, soaring accounts, lessened
for each other.
They weep from the pain in their stomachs, separate, untied,
Povertous and powerless, suffering dutifully, lessened
by the ones above.
Unity in separation, or one is all, all is one:
It created and grew and provided for us everything, generous, whole,
Separate and connected, encompassing all, living
as individual pieces.
We described and detailed it apart from each other, selfish, incomplete,
Separate and disconnected, dignifying differences, dying
as individual pieces.
The ability to exist in society, any society, is based on your contribution to said society. Money is earned by a perceived contribution to society and therefore money is a representation of your perceived contribution. Money is societies debt to you, a way of saying you did this for us here are the things we may do for you.
Now, perception is fickle, unlike reality, it can change at the sound of truth or lie depending on who said it and by how loud and how often. The common man is being swindled every day by the inflated perception of some people’s miniscule contribution. A creditor’s contribution, for example, is perceived to be more than a farmers but realistically it is not. A creditor lends money to people who don’t have any, creating a debt to society that the individual must later pay back after, hopefully, using that money to learn a skill that fills a need in society. So, a creditors contribution to society is allowing others to amass a societal credit. All very well and good it fills a need and drives the society forward. Another example would be a farmer, the stereotypically uneducated, uncivilized regular joe who grows nourishment and in essence allows everyone else to live. His contribution is society’s ability to continue living by being properly nourished and fed.
Whose contribution to society is greater in realistic terms? Well in my opinion the farmer, his life is spent growing and nurturing other peoples lives. The creditor’s only contribution is to give the ability to start contributing to society. However, sadly, the creditor’s contribution is perceived to be greater, they, therefore, are given a greater life.
the perception of money now is that it is the goal, not the means. It’s a way for you to track societies debt to you and yours to society but its not edible, it cannot protect you from a storm, nor can you cry on its shoulder. Money is nothing; food, shelter, and relationships are what’s real. Therefore the people in society that provide you with food, shelter, rest, or serve you in anyway deserve the best lives society can offer, not the people who hold on to or lend you thin paper shackles.
“So, last night I was watching TV, you know, one of those cop dramas. You know how there’s always some murder, it was this guy and his girlfriend, like, called the cops saying she just came home and didn’t know what was going on. Her boyfriend was on the ground bleeding and mangled from being beaten by a bat,” Amanda, paused for a second to take a sip of her tea.
Amy, in turn, responded, slightly offended at, yet intrigued by the brutality, “That… sounds awful, which one were you watching?”
“It was just one of them, I don’t really remember, but it turned out that she was the killer, I never expected it! The whole episode she was so heartbroken by it, but it turned out she had been hiding her hate for him, keeping it inside the whole time, letting it bottle up until she just exploded. It was really sad when she explained it at the end…”
Amy let her drone on, half listening to the extended explanation of how the character brutalized her boyfriend with his bat, half just listening to her voice. Like the most beautiful symphony it rose and fell; it only grew sweeter and more harmonious as she let it caress her ears. She was never fully interested in what Amanda said, it was never of much substance, she was more interested in just being with her. It made her feel happy, and complete.
“So how are things going with your boyfriend?” She butted in when she felt she’d heard enough gore, feigning concern she added, “are you guys still ‘on the rocks?’”
“No, I think it’ll be better now, I worked it out.”
“Oh, wow really? What happened? what’d you do?”
“Nothing, I’m just, probably, going to need a place to stay for a couple days.”
“Did he kick you out? That’s terrible, you paid for that place too you know,” Amy said with vicarious indignation, trying to hide her elation from hearing the delicious fruits of her labour. ”You know, you could always stay with me, it’ll be like those sleepovers we had as kids,” she said forcing a laugh to seem like she was joking, but just the reminiscence of it gave her a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had only recently realized how much she missed those intimate nights with her most gorgeous and closest friend.
“That’s so nice of you to offer, I’d love that. I do miss that, how we used to talk all night about boys, pillow fights, oh, and remember that night my first boyfriend broke up with me and you let me cry on your shoulder until we both fell asleep.”
Amy couldn’t help but smile for it was her most fond memory of their relationship. She could remember every minute detail of that night. She immediately recalled the flowery aroma of Amanda’s gorgeous, thick, blonde hair while she stroked it, the warmth of her tears on her bosom as Amy comforted the 14 year old Amanda to sleep. Tonight, she thought, tonight is the night I could make this all happen again. Everything I’ve been working for since that fucking boyfriend took her from me is coming together.
“That would be nice,” Amy said still deep in her memory, she was startled when she heard amanda’s phone ring, Amanda answered it. Amy, deciding to be nosy, tried to listen in. She couldn’t hear much of the other side of the conversation only truncated phrases or words, but she distinctly heard: “questioning…” “squad car to your location…” “stay where you are.” Fearful but acting concerned, she asked , “Who was that?”
“Oh its nothing I just need to go to the police station for a bit.”
Amy was shocked at this news, What does she have to go there for, What did she do, have I done?
A little bit later, the police showed up, much to Amy’s disappointment and horror. She knew why they were on their way but she didn’t want to believe it. She was so close to her goal, however, she never imagined it could end this way. All she could do was sit there and watch as her best friend and almost lover was questioned by the police about a painted wooden bat, her bloody apartment and her allegedly murdered boyfriend.
Amy left the coffee shop shortly after her friend was handcuffed and driven away. She arrived home. She fell apart as the door shut behind her. Through her tears and sniffling she lamented “Amanda… Amanda… no, this isn’t fair, she was mine again, and now i’ve lost her forever.”
In this story we find a young man, an ordinary 20-something, one whose station in life has yet to be decided. He is not bright but certainly above average, and full of the passion and energy of youth. His time mostly spent in an altered state of mind communing and enjoying the energy and ideas of the peers closest to him. Ultimately, however, he was of no service to anyone outside this chosen community of similar leeches. His mind was full of how things ought to be, solutions to the problems of society, his misdirected energy has yet to converge with these ideas, and therefore were caged in his mind, of no use to society as a whole.
He’d attended school, as per the norm; grade school, middle school, high school, and for a short while he dipped his feet into the less structured and, to him, more attractive world of college. Presently, however, he was stagnant, having lost interest in school after 13 arduous years; 12 mandatory, 1 chosen and regrettable. Lost, actually, may be the wrong descriptor for how could he lose something he never possessed. During this time he’d been advised by those wiser than he to appreciate this opportunity to gain knowledge without having to give in return, but how could he appreciate what was seemingly structured to take for granted? He was kindly forced to sit and stay and receive proper knowledge without regard to understanding and application. Some could argue he was a fated leech, for it was the norm to him to receive without return.
David and his closest friend conversed, inhaling thick smoke and altering the filter through which they saw the world, expositing theory after theory searching for nothing but learning and discovering many things previously unknown. He greatly enjoyed these talks and through them he gained understanding, for when they talked it wasn’t of the daily lives of their peers or checkstand-rag gossip it was of causes and effects, of the “why” and “how” of human action.
It was during one of these talks that david discovered an eyelash resting on his hand. It was thick and black, only about a centimeter long, he, being in a state which allowed for prolonged focus on normally unimportant objects, stared at it for a long minute. He noticed a the thick end was pure white, in stark contrast to the rest of its pitch color, he perceived the almost sharpened looking tip at the other end. “Taylor,” he addressed his friend excitedly, “look, I have one wish, I wonder what it should be?”
Taylor suggested, “you should wish for millions of dollars-”
“what would I do with it?”
“I don’t know, maybe buy a house, a nicer car, live comfortably?”
“yes, thats very true, but I live comfortably now; I have an apartment, I have a car, I eat well, I need nothing.”
“That’s true, but this all comes from your parents, and the meager amount they decided to give you, imagine you, driving your ferrari home to your huge house in newport coast,” Taylor argued.
“you’re right that would be absolutely fantastic, the life of a millionaire, but how much should I wish for? What would be enough so I never run out, after having this life I don’t suppose i’d like to stop,” David agreed, finally after much thought, “I was also thinking, what about the people who can’t even eat? I mean I lead a comfortable life-“
“well, I think you’d be comfortable in any situation, you’re you”
“sure, well, no I don’t think I’d like starving to the point of death, which, you know, millions of people do everyday, I could wish that every one lived comfortably and no one was in need,” He said, as he blew the eyelash out the window of his car, sending his altruistic sentiment to all the less fortunate in the world like a letter wishing you well from a relative who’s never taken the time to learn to spell your name.
David, content in his deed, continued his comfortable life, sleeping on a large plush mattress, lounging in a comfortable chair surfing the web and watching television. He’d read articles and keep current on the plight of those less fortunate, explain to others that something needed to be done. He’d tell anyone who’d listen believing whole-heartedly in the changes he was making, but day after day, month after month, he continued to read and hear of new plights and new groups of less fortunates. This was disheartening. After a long and rigorous summer, winter, fall and another summer of late nights out with friends and many speeches on how everyone’s lives could be better if they would just listen to him, his parents grew tired of supporting him.
“You have been living well this past year, but what have you to show from your leisure? You talk of helping others and that’s great, I’ve raised you well, but what have you done to make their lives better? You’re bright and have the capacity and the vision to really make this world a better place but you just go out with your friends and do God knows what every night,” his father explained.
Indignant, david replied, “Well, when I’m with my friends we talk and discover new ways to make these people’s lives better-“
“That very well may be,” his father replied calmly, remembering this very same conversation with his own dear dad, “but how have these conversations affected the world? What can you say you’ve done that has bettered the life of anyone? Telling people how much worse other’s lives are just depresses them, you’re not helping anyone, all you do is blow hot air-“
“But, if the world was a hot air balloon I’d be doing wonders,” david butted in sarcastically, realizing that yes telling people things they don’t want to hear does in fact depress them, “I see what you’re saying dad, but what am I to do?”
“You could go to school and learn I don’t have all the answers, but they might have some.”
This short piece of advice blew david’s mind wide open, had that been what school was for this whole time? To put in effort and attain a desired result?
“Dad, your advice has given me beautiful new insight, I finally see what i have to do!”
So when the time to register for school came around at the end of that summer he talked to counselors who showed him the proper classes to take, which he did, he attended every class and put all the effort he’d previously used so unwisely into his assignments. As his knowledge grew he discovered a brand new world of opportunities to better people’s lives. He continued in this fashion, ravenous and driven, all the way to the white house, where he rivaled the great FDR in his policy.
Reflecting, after his tenure as leader of the free world he looked down at his hand and noticed a small thick follicle, pitch-black, pointed at one end and white on the other, he smiled and shook his hand so that it floated away without a thought.