Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 25: The Public Be Damned
Part 2: Money Changes Everything
Part 2: Money Changes Everything
10 november 2014.
City of London. Once it was the headquarters of the Bank of England. The Conservative Revolution made it the seat of power for the economic dictatorship established over first the United Kingdom, then the entire British Commonwealth; in effect, the Bank of England overthrew Parliament and usurped its theoretical power of absolute monarchy. Quickly it consolidated with the European Central Bank, and then the United States Federal Reserve System. Finally, it merged with the World Bank.
The architect of this consolidation, of the economic dictatorship, of the entire Conservative Revolution sits in the executive chair that serves as the throne of the world. Lord Richard Becket, President of the World Bank and Chairman of the United Corporations, stares with contempt across his desk and lectures the free-market economist standing before him. He assures himself that he is teaching the economist a lesson. The economist senses that he is actually on trial for heresy. For to Lord Becket, economics is not science but theology. His many enemies grumble that he is the pope of the new dark age.
The economy tries to speak. Lord Becket rises from his throne to shout “Silence!” One of the heavily armed Interpol agents grabs him from behind and puts his gauntlet over the man’s mouth. Becket sits back down and speaks down more calmly. “I don’t understand you free-market types. You assume the primacy of material reality. You do not realize that it is not real at all, but pure corruption. Hence your fixation on gold. Which is, from the proper spiritual perspective, mere metal, no more valuable than lead or iron.
He leans forward and wags his index finger like a professor’s pointer. “The truth is otherwise. Money is not mere wampum, whether of gold metal or cowrie shells. It is not exchange value. It is blood — the blood of the new gods who have manifested on earth to replace Man. The blood of the Corporations. It is ichor. Men are but vampires drinking it.
“Your foolish idea of freedom is no longer the way the world works. It is merely license for glorified monkeys to do as they please. You have not the intelligence of the gods, nor the lifespan, nor the spiritual perspective. The future has moved away from exchange value among puny little beasts that falsely believe themselves intelligent. The future has moved away from the material world of corruption. The gods are free at last from their dependence on mere human faith. They have found new flesh and are manifest in new incarnations. At last, we are conquering the world of corruption and placing it once again under the eternal dominion of spirit.
“Science! You mere humans make a fetish out of the alleged objectivity of corruption. There is no science in matter. The true science is that of eternity. The only objective world is that of pure spirit. There is no other. Even I debase myself in order to lead the revolution of eternity against corruption. Your race are but phantoms, easily dispelled.” Lord Becket blows his palm as if dispelling sand. “That is all. Guards! Take him away.”
Red House. Shira hides behind an open doorway to listen as Thurston Wilder throws a stack of letters onto the living room table. “The Foundation’s been receiving demands from our good friend Mr Becket demanding we pay money or swear fealty, preferably both.”
Ric laughs. “He wants us to pay tribute for the privilege of him letting us exist.”
Hope sighs. “Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with those people.”
“They think wishes are horses, darling. They’re magicians, not economists. They’re in the job of magicking money into existence. That’s why they call it ‘fiat’ money. The Latin word basically means ‘abracadabra.’ Once they’ve magicked the stuff out of government debt and our hides, they grant their magic to whoever and whatever will give them the most power.”
“You’re saying Becket and his cabal are really black magicians,” says Thurston, “right?”
Ariel walks into the room eating a handful of strawberries. “That’s exactly right. It really is magic to them.” The others look at her as she joins them at the table.
Willa says, “You sound like my mother, Ariel.”
“You’re familiar, of course, with the conspiracy theories surrounding the Illuminati. They’re right, but only in a sense. The important thing is not what they control, but what they believe.”
“What they are,” adds Ric, “is Gnostic fundamentalists.”
“The fundamentalist doctrine is called ‘Nicolaitanism.’ The Nicolaitans are almost as old as Gnosticism, the same way the Khawarij and their Salafi doctrine sprang up almost as soon as the Prophet Muhammad died. The word means ‘victors over the people’ and designates the elitist strain of Gnosticism, which in Hellenistic and Roman times had more than a trace of elitism from the beginning with its division of people into knowers and sleepers. Nicolaitanism is unlike any other Gnostic school in that it teaches that the sleepers can never be awakened to true knowledge. It is from this assumption that the reigning political doctrine of Synarchism derives: if the sleepers can never be awakened, the awakened few therefore possess the divine right to rule over them with absolute power.”
“You mean Dick Becket believes this stuff?” asks Thurston.
“With absolute faith.”
Ric says, “The notorious neocon contempt for reality? That’s Platonic at minimum and Nicolaitan at worst. The Beckets were never known for their realism, to understate it severely. Consider their black-magic economics.”
Thurston asks, “And that’s why they shoot thunderbolts at anybody showing favor to a gold standard.”
“There’s no better anchor to reality than a precious-metal currency. The proper term for black-magic economics, by the way, is counterfeiting. Greenbacks are no more valuable than Monopoly money unless Lord Chancellor Dick magically transubstantiates ’em like a Catholic priest of Mammon.”
Shira shows herself and shifts all attention to her. “One black magician controls the entire world money supply? That makes the World Bank the ultimate single point of vulnerability.”
Thurston tries to control his surprise. “What do you mean, Shira?”
“Lord Dick’s magical devices, the printing presses, are controlled from a central computer. That makes it very hackable. But we don’t even need to hack the Imperial Mint system. Any hacker can counterfeit funny money. You got the computer and the link, you can download all kinds of money-maker software from the Darknet, and voilà: instant electronic greenbacks.”
“Giving Anonymous its own nuclear option...”
“Electronically counterfeit enough money to flood the system, and we can kill the dollar.”
Ric grins. “And the whole fucking Empire with it.”
“Leaving nothing left but gold,” says Thurston. “Does Lord Dick know about this?”
“Of course he does,” Shira replies. “That’s why the Imperial Mint’s so encrusted with ICE, and why he’s cut off the system from the Darknet.”
Hope says, “That would also give any terrorist the means with which to bring down the system.”
“But most terrorists don’t dare because what they really wanna do is take it over and make it their own weapon. They believe in magic, too.”
“Just don’t get yourself in trouble trying it.”
“Don’t? We’re already in trouble, Mom. The whole world is. Saving it requires a weapon. Better yet, why not take his?”
Jennifer’s car. “You guys talk about anything interesting?” asks Jennifer.
“Oh, nothing,” Shira answers, “only how to fight back when almighty Lord Dick tries to use black magic to get around his unpopularity and save his ill-gotten power.”
“That’s what Dad says Unca Dick uses to ‘magic’ fiat money out of nothing, using government debt and the magical power of transubstantiation. I said any hacker with a money-maker program can do the same thing. What I didn’t say is it gives me a bludgeon to hit Unca Dick back with.”
A traffic cop turns on his lights and siren. “Uh-oh, speed trap.” Jennifer pulls over and pulls out her driver’s license and smartcard. “Time to shake our money makers.” She rolls down the window. As the grinning traffic cop walks toward the car in an “intimidating” way, Jennifer and Shira can see the greed in his eyes. They know what he doesn’t: all greenbacks are bogus. The scammer will never know he has been scammed.
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Copyright © 2011 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
[Revision 1, 12/7/11.]