Tomorrow We Dance To Freedom






The Last Great Depression

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The nifty names, 'Financial Crisis' and 'Great Recession' have stuck to the crumbling ground like worn-out bubble gum. Amazingly, most people have bought into the explanations and predictions put forth by the clan of economic witch doctors. Little to no mention has been made of my theories. Heaven forbid some none approved member of the intelligentsia shed light on the inner workings of this global rackets game, our casino extraordinaire.

Meanwhile, the income crisis that has burst the Last Great Depression upon us is vaporizing our cheap no-tomorrow world. All the rulers: the blood sucking tyrants, sociopath multi-national business monsters, incompetent government actors, and lordly experts tightly grip their respective sacred scrolls, chant more wildly, and growl more fiercely.

If you listen closely you'll be able to discern the growls coming from the high rollers, the Corporatists, "Give us more juice, taxpayer booty like you gave the banks. We hate Socialism except when we're the ones raiding the national treasuries. Cut those unessential government programs like school lunches, healthcare services to the poor, and unemployment benefits. Hand it over NOW! It's ever so important to balance the budgets of our bought-and-sold global governments to pay for our party hardy money, bonuses, leaky oil rigs, lobbyists, and business propaganda that was recently sanctioned by the U.S. Supreme Court."

But you know a point of clarification is in order. After consultation with the most high of global domination it was clear that gunboats loaded with taxpayer loot headed to multi-national riverboat thieves is - God forbid, not Socialism - at least not in their greed infected minds.

The ranting intensifies. These fast-talking, caffeine pumped pinstriped goofballs, some right out of Ivy League indoctrination camps continue to foam at the mouth, talking louder and louder until the noise is deafening.

While making a backhanded dice throw in their contrived system of extortion they rattle on; "What is Socialism, or an example of poorly managed governments, are taxes that are utilized in support of a better quality of life for the general population - those grubby proletariat-working hordes. Job creation, infrastructure investment, and any other hard earned lobbyist dollars being diverted to the people instead of the coffers of the business kingdom: now that is a horrid use of funds."

A baby-faced youngster with credentials fresh from the finest halls of dogma-soiled thought responds forcefully will all the accumulated experience of his twenty-five years, "We all must really get our priorities straight. How can businesses operate if they can't game the system by tainting our democracies. They must make those ever increasing profits year after year on the backs of workers, with wages that get smaller and smaller until this cost of doing business is completely eliminated."

After reflection, those of us forced to clean the floors of their global casino ponder our condition. A few still believe in gulping down the proffered Kool-Aid; "Come on, you know there is absolutely no way for them to exist harmoniously with their fellow brothers and sisters. But this isn't our concern; our only reason for waking up every day is to go to work, for we must be faithful to our country, company, and all those who have our best interests at heart."

Others among the cleaning crew in the gigantic international casino who've been jerked around for many years by these hoodlums of a legal crime family shoot back; "They have a disease, an addiction to boundless power. Their mandate extends beyond the rational into the absurdly deviant for they truly believe they have the right to destroy our environment, vaporize our cultures, trash morality, and rip us off like masked bandits?"

Quietly shuffling from the shadows, a dirty, worn looking crowd from the developing world gathers around.

In poor English a leader from these low-wage slaves warns the better-dressed casino cleaners; "Watch out! That strong-arm is about to drag you to the dungeon. Soon you'll join us. Their global gulag needs more workers to fill their sweat shops to make their cheap junk."

Up in the casino boardroom the levers are calibrated ever more subtly by the manipulators. The craterous income sinkhole is expanded to swallow more income into the bowels of purgatory; sucking feverously, the pumps strain to drain this precious income to the castles of the princes of finance.

A total realization is finally setting in, only a few hold on to the illusion, the voices of logic rally the casino servants; "Give it a break. If you're stupid enough to believe you aren't an insignificant piece of oil-covered dirt in the eyes of the planetary corporatist machine state you've obviously just emerged from a subterranean cave."

"Quite! Do you hear that! The elaborate monstrosity's gears are slipping"

The low and high riders hear the rust covered wheels grind, and a jolt is felt. Gripped with fear, everyone shudders.

Hang tight; for it won't be long, the mega corporations are putting their finishing touches on their gulag inspired super state. Of course, it won't be fully implemented until their latest system of extortion comes crashing down.