The Falsification of History: Our Distorted Reality (29 page)

BOOK: The Falsification of History: Our Distorted Reality
12.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Although it does not, strictly speaking, answer the question, it at least illustrates the futility of asking it in the first place whilst also emphasising in what a crazy, upside-down world we all live.
 
The system itself is almost a caricature, a mockery of how things ought to be.
 
It is so utterly self-defeating and unsustainable and only by simply stepping-back a pace or two, ‘outside the box’ as it were, for a moment and observing it critically is it possible to recognise the sheer ludicrousness of it all.
 
Only when we do this is it possible to perceive the fact that we are being fooled on a huge scale.
 
The only reason that this system was propagated in the first place is simply to make the rich, richer and the poor, poorer and to maintain and enhance that status quo at all costs.
 
It is absolutely not the result of an accidental evolution of society or the natural ‘way of things’ as we are led to believe by the liars and charlatans of all forms of the media whenever this philosophy is questioned.

We are subjected to ‘education’, and I use the term loosely, which is little more than outright indoctrination and propaganda designed to perpetuate the system at whatever detriment to people and the environment.
 
The result of this has been to render the masses ignorant of what is really happening to them on a daily basis, thus securing the Elite few, virtually a free run-through to their perverted goals.

In third world countries, where people live on the land and by their wits and have not been subjected to our western ‘education’, we take away their lands and their forests by force and coercion and thus, their culture and way-of-life destroyed, they are then forced to embrace our own insidious consumer-culture and ‘educational’ programmes, perpetuating and extended the corrupt system exponentially.
 
This is just another way that the system devours more and more until eventually there will be nothing left to consume.

With each passing decade, the technology used to further the system becomes ever more efficient and produces more and more ‘things’ with less and less reliance on people.
 
This then has the effect of dramatically increasing unemployment and thus conversely increasing the lust for consumer goods and services.
 
The more that people can be artificially induced to want (desire or even covet), the easier it is to ultimately control them by manipulating the symbols of human success to relate to material possessions.
 
The word ‘want’ in itself is an interesting example of this subtle manipulation.
 
Until around 150 years ago, to ‘want’ something was to lack or be in need of something, whereas now it has been construed to mean that you ‘desire’ something.
 
For example; in 1850, the statement, ‘I want a warm coat’ simply meant that you did not have one.
 
Now it actually means that you strongly desire to possess one.
 
Although the change is subtle, it is I believe highly significant and symptomatic of on-going social engineering.

So, in order to control the masses, the Elite needed to develop a system whereby when people are dissatisfied with their lot, they are induced to seek happiness by buying and owning ‘things’ – anything at all, it does not really matter just so long as the money that the people have been given in wages finds its way back to the Elite’s bank accounts as quickly as possible, usually in exchange for some intrinsically worthless yet over-priced bauble, in order that this cycle can continue.

Below is an excerpt from a book, which succinctly describes the way we are manipulated by the system and despite the fact that it was written over one hundred years ago, is still pertinent to the world of today:

“’Money is the real cause of poverty’, said Owen.
 

‘Prove it’, said Crass.
 

‘Money is the cause of poverty because it is the device by which those who are too lazy to work are enabled to rob the workers of the fruits of their labours’.
 

‘Prove it’, repeated Crass.
 

Owen slowly folded up the piece of newspaper he had been reading and put it into his pocket.
 
‘All right’, he replied.
 
‘I’ll show you how the Great Money Trick is worked’.

Owen opened his dinner basket and took from it two slices of bread but as those were not sufficient, he requested that anyone who had some bread left would give it to him.
 
They gave him several pieces, which he placed in a heap on a clean piece of paper and, having borrowed the pocket knives they used to cut and eat their dinners with, from Harlow, Easton and Philpot, he addressed them as follows;

‘These pieces of bread represent the raw materials which exist naturally in and on the Earth for the use of mankind; they were not made by any human being, but created by the Great Spirit for the benefit and sustenance of all, the same as were the air and the light of the sun.’

‘You’re about as fair-speakin’ a man as I’ve met for some time’, said Harlow, winking at the others.

‘Yes, mate’, said Philpot.
 
‘Anyone would agree to that much, it’s as clear as mud.’

‘Now’, continued Owen.
 
‘I am a capitalist; or rather, I represent the landlord and capitalist class.
 
That is to say, all these raw materials belong to me.
 
It does not matter for our present argument how I claimed possession of them, or whether I have any real right to them; the only thing that matters now is the admitted fact that all the raw materials which are necessary for the production of the necessities of life are now the property of the Landlord and Capitalist class.
 
I am that class; all these raw materials belong to me.’

‘Good enough’, agreed Philpot.

‘Now you three represent the Working Class; you have nothing – and for my part, although I have all these raw materials, they are of no use to me – what I need is – the things that can be made out of these raw materials by work; but as I am too lazy to work myself, I have invented the Money Trick to make you work for me.
 
But first I must explain that I possess something beside the raw materials.
 
These three knives represent – all the machinery of production; the factories, tools, railways and so forth, without which the necessaries of life cannot be produced in abundance.
 
And these three coins…’ – taking three halfpennies from his pocket – ‘…represent my Money Capital’.
 
‘But before we go any further...’, said Owen interrupting himself, ‘...it is most important that you remember that I am not supposed to be merely a capitalist, I represent the whole of the Capitalist Class.
 
You are not supposed to be just three workers – you represent the whole Working Class’.

‘All right, all right’, said Crass, impatiently.
 
‘We all understand that.
 
Git on with it’.

Owen proceeded to cut up one of the slices of bread into a number of little square blocks.
 
‘These represent the things which are produced by labour, aided by machinery, from the raw materials.
 
We will suppose that three of these blocks represent a week’s work.
 
We will suppose that a week’s work is worth one pound and we will suppose that each of these halfpennies is a sovereign [a gold coin worth one pound – a significant sum 100 years ago – JH].
 
We’d be able to do the trick better if I had real sovereigns but I forgot to bring any with me’.

‘I’d lend you some…’ said Philpot regretfully ‘…but I left me purse on our grand pianner’.

As by a strange coincidence, nobody happened to have any gold with them, it was decided to make shift with the halfpennies.

‘Now this is the way the trick works…’
 

‘Before you goes on with it…’ interrupted Philpot, apprehensively, ‘…don’t you think we’d better ‘ave someone to keep watch at the gate in case a slop [police officer] comes along?
 
We don’t want to get runned-in, you know’.

‘I don’t think there’s any need for that’, replied Owen.
 
‘There’s only one slop who’d interfere with us for playing this game and that’s police constable Socialism’.

‘Never mind about Socialism…’ said Crass irritably.
 
‘…git along with the bloody trick’.

Owen now addressed himself to the working classes as represented by Philpot, Harlow and Easton.

‘You say that you are all in need of employment and as I am the kind-hearted Capitalist Class, I am going to invest all my money in various industries, so as to give you Plenty of Work.
 
I shall pay each one of you, one pound per week and a week’s work is that you must all produce three of these square blocks.
 
For doing this work you will each receive your wages; the money will be your own, to do as you like with and the things you produce will of course be mine, to do as I like with.
 
You will each take one of these machines and as soon as you have done your week’s work, you shall have your money’.

The Working Classes accordingly set to work and the Capitalist Class sat down and watched them.
 
As soon as they had finished they passed the nine little blocks to Owen, who placed them on a piece of paper by his side and paid the workers their wages.

‘These blocks represent the necessaries of life.
 
You can’t live without some of these things, but as they belong to me, you’ll have to buy them from me.
 
My price for these blocks is – one pound each.’

As the Working Classes were in need of the necessaries of life and as they could not eat, drink or wear the useless money, they were compelled to agree to the kind Capitalist’s terms.
 
They each bought back and consumed one third of the produce of their labour.
 
The Capitalist Class also devoured two of the square blocks and so the net result of the week’s work was that the kind Capitalist had consumed two pounds worth of the things produced by the labour of others and reckoning the squares at their market value of one pound each, he had more than doubled his capital, for he still possessed the three pounds in money and in addition, four pounds-worth of goods.
 
As for the Working Classes, Philpot, Harlow and Easton, having each consumed the pound’s worth of necessaries they had bought with their wages, they were then in precisely the same condition as when they started work – they had nothing.

This process was repeated several times.
 
For each week’s work the producers were paid their wages.
 
They kept on working and spending all their earnings.
 
The kind-hearted Capitalist consumed twice as much as any one of them and his pile of wealth continually increased.
 
In a little while – reckoning the little squares at their market value of one pound each – he was worth one hundred pounds and the Working Classes were still in the same condition as when they began and were still tearing into their work as though their lives depended upon it.

After a while the rest of the crowd began to laugh and their merriment increased when the kind-hearted Capitalist, just after having sold a pound’s worth of necessaries to each of his workers, suddenly took their tools – the machinery of production – the knives, away from them and informed them that owing to over-production, all his store-houses were now glutted with the necessaries of life, he had decided to close down the works.

‘Well and wot the bloody ‘ell are we to do now?’ demanded Philpot.

‘That’s not my business’, replied the kind-hearted Capitalist.
 
‘I’ve paid you your wages and provided you with Plenty of Work for a long time.
 
I have no more work for you to do at present.
 
Come round again in a few months and I’ll see what I can do for you’.

‘But what about the necessaries of life?’ demanded Harlow.
 
‘We must have something to eat’.

‘Of course you must…’, replied the Capitalist affably.
 
‘…and I shall be pleased to sell you some’.

‘But we ain’t got no bloody money!’

‘Well, you can’t expect me to give you my goods for nothing!
 
You didn’t work for nothing, you know.
 
I paid you for your work and you should have saved something.
 
You should have been thrifty like me.
 
Look how I have got on by being thrifty’.

Other books

Taking Tuscany by Renée Riva
Roxy (Pandemic Sorrow #3) by Stevie J. Cole
Tricks of the Trade by Laura Anne Gilman
Sapphire Crescent by Reid, Thomas M.
The Reluctant Assassin by Eoin Colfer
Fade Out by Patrick Tilley
Consider the Lily by Elizabeth Buchan