Catherine Austin Fitts, what she calls the Tapeworm is what we call Wealth Bondage. We are in Wealth Bondage, but like the tapeworm, wealth bondage is in us too. We are the hosts on which it is parasitic. The chemicals it secrets make us hungry for what it wants. Catherine, a voice as strong as Nader's, Chomsky's, or Naomi Kline's, blogs here. She has, per Wikipedia, leadership experience inside Wealth Bondage at the Candidia Cruikshanks level. She runs a financial advisory firm, Solari. Her detailed inside story here, of the nexus of markets, politics, Wall Street and drug money, naming dates, places, government agencies, investment banks and bankers, journalists, lawyers, judges, and government officials, along with various dollar amounts is perhaps the most chilling thing you will read this year.
Humanity has often wept over the fate of the aborigines of this
country, and philanthropy has been long busily employed in devising
means to avert it, but its progress has never for a moment been
arrested, and one by one have many powerful tribes disappeared from the
earth. To follow to the tomb the last of his race and to tread on the
graves of extinct nations excite melancholy reflections. But true
philanthropy reconciles the mind to these vicissitudes as it does to
the extinction of one generation to make room for another. In the
monuments and fortresses of an unknown people, spread over the
extensive regions of the West, we behold the memorials of a once
powerful race, which was exterminated or has disappeared to make room
for the existing savage tribes. Nor is there anything in this which,
upon a comprehensive view of the general interests of the human race,
is to be regretted. Philanthropy could not wish to see this continent
restored to the condition in which it was found by our forefathers.
What good man would prefer a country covered with forests and ranged by
a few thousand savages to our extensive republic, studded with cities,
towns, and prosperous farms, embellished with all the improvements
which art can devise or industry execute, occupied by more than 12
million happy people, and filled with all the blessings of liberty,
civilization, and religion?
Too long a quote. Had to cut it from The State of the Union, but I thought I would blog it here.
Sean is so cute. Gawd, what a hunk! And he has like this super brain. His whole head steams. Anyways, he invests my Trust Fund for me. I told him I want it values-aligned, ok? Nothing but Prada. He told me to ask Daddy. I told him screw Daddy. It is my Trust Fund and when Daddy is gone you are going to be working for me, Sean. And Daddy is older than dirt. So, we compromised, half Prada and half Gucci. That way I am diversified: Shoes and handbags. I think a person's trust fund investments make an important fashion statement, don't you? Next Sean is going to work on my Foundation. I am thinking we will invest in high interest loans to poor people, you know, those payday loan places? We can help the poor and make, like 35% off them. Pierre says I am gonna win the Ayn Rand Philanthropy prize 'cuz I am a social investor who looks out for #1.
"There are a lot of young people hitting 25 who are making, say,
$35,000 a year, who expected they'd be millionaires or at least making
six figures," says psychologist Jean Twenge. She's a professor at San
Diego State University and author of "Generation Me: Why Today's Young
Americans Are More Confident, Assertive, Entitled -- and More Miserable
Than Ever Before."
Gawd, I mean how pathetic! They should just ask Daddy to increase their trust fund payout. Stupid people. Daddies hate whiners. You just got to get on Daddy's nerves. Then out comes the checkbook. I should, like give lessons or something. I could be a personal coach. "Whine to be Great." I could do a book. Get rich. Then my parents would stop bitching at me all the time to get a job or whatever.
Hello! Anybody home? God works through the market. The market is the hidden hand of God. By investing for total return, a Foundation does the work of God, not only in its grants but by supporting God's hand at work in the world. Such is my faith, not only as the Queenpin of Global Business but as a fucking Philanthropy Czarina too. Such is the ethic by which I run Wealth Bondage. Such is the ethic by which I run Rooster Foundation: Crowing in the New American Century. To dump Wealth Bondage from a Socially Screened portfolio is an insult to all I hold holy. Lucy Greenholz must be stopped! My dunce at Gifthub is clearly not up to the job. I have put Bill Schambra on the case, though it will cost me a pretty penny. That man understands the value of a dollar. If anyone can prevent the fall of capitalism at the hands of Lucy Greenholz, it would be Bill and the cast of toadying intellectuals he lines up to defend Wealth Bondage. Markets cry out to be Free! My last dollar will go, if need be, into rounding up and shooting all who disagree.
"Let us have a rule to assign just penalties to offenses, lest you flay with the terrible scourge what calls for the strap." - Horace, Satires, I. iii.
All I would add to Phil'seloquentposts in honor of H. Peter Karoff is that paideia, or soul-formation, requires more than Socratic questioning, and sometimes more than parables, or even a living moral example. There are times when only a well-deserved thrashing will do the job. Jesus did carry a whip when he went into Wealth Bondage, as I recall. Now, the money changers are our best clients and we fawn.
Against the Dumpster leans Miss Shuganah's box. So, we all find our home in community with others. Perhaps leaned up against her box, we will find soon a homeless man in a bedroll, or a child in a basket. We all have much to be grateful for. I for a roof, she for her box, the man for his blanket, the child for the basket. It could always be worse.