This RogueCast is a discourse on the subject of my article, Let’s Talk about Money which should be read in conjunction with it.
Whilst the various frauds of this realm are all around us, one of the biggest is the illusion of money.
We each give it a value and have a confidence in it when we are ‘paying’ for goods or services but the fact is there is nothing of substance to it. Does it have any more value than the notes we use in a game of Monopoly? How can any (fake) debt be ‘paid’ with IOUs?
The game requires that we buy into it, get allotted money in the form of notes and play the roles to which we have been assigned but what happens when the player has seen through the illusion? Does he view it as a great cosmic joke, does he continue to act out his part or, perhaps, does he choose to stop playing a game that is rigged in favour of the bank, or, more accurately, the licenced credit broker?
I also posit the view that the world’s bankers are not those with any real kind of wealth for that is in the hands of the various hidden families better known as the international Crime Syndicates.
Should we be surprised by any of this when we are but sojourners in a perceived reality?
A player is another name for actor, and, as has been expressed countless times,
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow.Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth.And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part.
The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”(from William Shakespeare’s As You Like It, spoken by Jaques)
So, my dear listener, get out there and play your part, secure in the knowledge that you are an immortal player on a great stage who is writing his own script and performing his own role.
As ever, thank you for listening. Should you value these discourses and my essays at RogueMale, then please tip me a few quid via the Buy Me a Coffee button and/or take out a subscription to my Substack pages.
Footnote: in support of my assertion that the financiers like the House of Rothschild, being but banking clerks, are not the reat wealth or power in this world, the reader is invited to consider this,
Source: World Crime Syndicate
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