Life Without Money

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I am a representative of the future and I am in your dream because I wanted to reveal life one thousand years hence, where poverty and influence are antiquarian words for acts of barbarism committed against our fellow humans.

Here there is no such thing as unemployment. It is a barbaric measurement of mean instigation. In your time the economist says to the politician and the business man and the banker that it is good to keep people lean in order to give them the incentive to get more.

But this only clogs courts and legal systems with claims for money and creates an insider/outsider environment.

Here there are no business, personal or sales taxes of any kind. The bankers insisted. Once a week every citizen gets credits from the govt bank. By the way there are no nation states here. All the countries retain their culture but there is one worldwide security force that supersedes all local authority.

Anyway, everyone gets a house or place to live and food to eat and clothes. But if you want to have credits to travel or buy expensive clothes you have to earn them. Kinda like in Walden Two where there are any number of tasks to perform.

Anyone who wants more money can also get it by trading financial instruments. The bankers give money to everyone to try to make more money. Anyone can ask a bank for money to trade and depending on how much money you make the bank lets you keep part of it. The more money you make for the bank the more they give you to trade with. There are no losses. If there are the bankers don’t count them or something. I don’t know exactly how it works. You have a psychotic and anti social business arrangement with society that lets tycoons assume the voice of the majority because the voice of the majority must cowtow to wealth. So Leon Cooperman says with a straight face that he is everyone’s savior from their own greed by driving down the price of their investments and sweeping the chips onto his side of the table. You love your robber barons. But seriously, I am a landscaper and I chose the task to be the one to tell you this. It was worth four credits. I only need three more to earn a time trip to San Francisco in the 1960’s. But I know that doesn’t mean anything to you, being a professor of economics. I am sure you already know how everything is supposed to work out.

Here drones and machines do the dirty work. And a contented community doesn’t want its peace disturbed. We don’t use pretext to destroy each other like you people. There are no cops on the beat, no presumption of guilt until proven innocent by a corrupt legal system that ensures revenues for the legal profession and its courts. There are no politicians ensuring all the crooks keep their fingers in the pie, no strong armed departmental security forces with the will and organization to encumber the lower classes into the hospital/prison system unto death. And beyond should it ever meet their fancy. Old folks, the mentally disabled, the lame; none die in overcrowded under staffed facilities here. But that’s for another dream.

Time for you to wake up, Professor. I believe today was the day you were going to share with the class your love of folk art and sing folk hymns even though you ridicule the idea of spirituality in your books. You are like an 85 year old kid taking part in the pageantry now that all the mysterious emotion of the event has been logically reasoned away. Remember the boy and how he never liked dressing in formal wear for church but who as an adult likes to be seen in a tie?

I know from your chart, Professor, that because of temperament you prefer a lazy story. I don’t like long stories myself. Got a bit of a short attention span. Oh, since you were wondering, the reason your wife doesn’t mind hearing you snore is that the notes you utter are the same dreaming or awake. It’s all background noise. She has an entire world that her nonexistent mind is holding together in an invisible place where you are but a signatory of her being anchored to this existence.

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