Every word is truth

On the forty-sixth floor of a building on Sixth Ave., they came to meet Jack. Each one had paid the asking price, and received a place in line to kiss the ring.

Although PowerPoint was not Jack’s forté, an assistant could manage. The twenty-third slide in the deck contained the seed. 

Pay the price of admission, kiss the ring and learn the plan: learn of the banking casino, powered by petroleum, income differentials, insecurity and war… a world of perpetual crisis; elections owned by millionaires; and a redistribution scheme so audacious that none would believe it until wealth beyond imagination controlled every dollar, every transaction and could name its price in total impunity. 

They celebrated in the conference room, visions dancing in their heads as champagne flowed: the profits of real work would be drained away to fund more power, and Jack would remodel his casino again.

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