“Do you see what I mean about being too liberal with our loans?” Aaron asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Just look around. This is the consequence of easy credit. It creates an economic boom; but then it necessarily collapses as the credit is withdrawn. These people – they are the victims of the credit withdrawal.”
“I guess I do see that, Father.” Jason said this as though he didn't care.
They continued walking, with Aaron closest to the buildings and alleys lining the street.
“You see, son,” Aaron looked over at Jason as they walked, “it is especially difficult for people to maintain their business and make payments when the economy collapses. And even though we can foreclose on the property, these people need our help. They need a loan they can live with.”
As they continued talking, they came upon a dark, murky alley. At just the entrance to the alley, Jason stopped and grabbed Aaron’s shoulder; talking earnestly to his father.
“I do know how to run our banking operation, Father. And I promise I will –”
But just then, Jason moved his hands down and grabbed Aaron's wrists. Simultaneously, a second man stepped out of the alley and threw a thin silken cord around Aaron’s neck. The man snapped the cord tight as Jason held onto his father’s wrists.
But Aaron reacted instantly, his body slipping off to the side as he tried to twist away. It was all Jason could do to hang on; but he held both of the wrists in a vise grip, pulling Aaron still more off balance as the man pulled the cord tighter still. Aaron's face quickly turned a dark purple, and the strength in Aaron’s arms drained away. In mere seconds, Jason could easily hold Aaron's hands; and he began to sob – tears were streaming down his face.
But the man behind Aaron continued to pull the cord, tighter and tighter, as the ground became wet. Aaron's muscular system was no longer under his control. His legs buckled, then folded as his body sagged. Sobbing, Jason let go of Aaron's hands. Watching as the man with cold, dead eyes stayed with his victim – crouching and then sinking to his knees as he followed Aaron’s body to the ground. By this time, the cord was drawn so tight that it had disappeared into Aaron’s neck; causing Aaron’s eyes to bulge out of his head. And when the man let the cord go slack, Aaron's bulging eyes remained. Aaron was dead.
* * * * *
Soon after . . .
The Palace was exquisitely appointed. Gold engravings and gold statues adorned the upper perimeter of the walls, and were complemented with still more gold engravings and statues around the lower wall perimeter. Underneath the gold adornments; or rather, framed by the gold engravings, could be found chiseled and sculpted marble.
Large and elaborate candles were held within gold candle holders. The candles illuminated the entire chamber; their flames flickering off the walls and appointments with startling luminescence.
A fat man entered the chamber and walked the textured marble floor. Wheezing, he took in the exquisite adornment of the chamber; and as he approached the King's throne, he bowed gracefully. “Thank you for taking time to see me, your Highness.”
Sitting erect and self-assured upon his throne, the King welcomed him with a smile and a nod of his head. With his curly brown hair and his softly-chiseled features, he exuded an air of privilege as he gestured an invitation to be seated.
The fat man sat down; and grey eyes of steel looked into eyes of royal blue.
Silence descended on the room. And then the King's eye twitched as he spoke, “Your message spoke of a source of funds that can help me to grow and maintain my empire.”
“That is true, your Highness.”
“Did you arrange our, ah – economic 'event'?”
“Yes, your Highness. I was part of the group that arranged it.”
“A very telling act that you performed.” And then the King's expression became stern as he continued, “some may call it treason.”
“With all due respect, your Highness, there was no intention to undermine your rule. Nor did we.”
“In due time, I desire to know more about this.”
“Of course, your Highness. I shall gladly explain to whatever depth you desire.”
“Fine,” the King responded. He paused and then continued. “About your proposal to help me grow and maintain my empire – I want to hear more about this.” A wry smile crossed the Kings features, and then he continued. “It seems the people become restless when I raise their taxes to fund our wars. So I seek a way to wage war without alarming the people; and I am informed that you can help.”
“Well, my Lord. I represent a group that can provide you with monetary resources and loans with which to arm and maintain your armies. This will give you – give England– the opportunity to consolidate empire throughout the far reaches of the world.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“Oh, your Highness. We desire very little; a mere trifling.”
“Go on ...”
* * * * *
“… And that's how the banking cartel came about.” The old man snorted, wiping his nose with his finger.
“So, you're saying that the bankers and kings joined together?”
“Yep. The marriage of rulers and bankers is as old as the history books. The rulers like war, but they need bankers’ money for their armies.”
“And the bankers?”
“Hell! The bankers make money from war; and that’s truth!”
“Shit,” Squirt exclaimed. “I guess that explains all those damn wars we were in at the time of the collapse. Huh?”
“Yep,” the grizzled old man responded. “And if you look close, you'll find the bankers behind 'em all.”
The old man looked down at the floor and sighed.
Squirt piped up. “So how do you know all this?”
“The diaries,” the old man replied as he wiped his nose.
“Diaries?”
“Yep. There’s boxes of ‘em in that closet over there.” Then the old man tilted his head and said, “Why don’t you get one of ‘em out of there?”
“Over there?” Squirt said, pointing to a door.
“Yeah. Let’s see what we got.”
Squirt opened the door and dragged out a large cardboard box. And then another. She left still more in the closet.
“Yep,” the old man sniffed. “That’s the diaries!”
She opened a box, revealing a curious collection of books – their covers and bindings tattered and dry, with pages loose in many of the older books.
“Wow,” Squirt exclaimed. “What is all this?”
“That’s truth!” And then Jim’s voice was subdued as he said, “That’s history – the way it really happened.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know the first story I told ya? The Chespik incident?”
“Sure. But what’s that got to do with these books?”
“Do you remember me tellin’ you about William Martin and how he recorded the Chespik events in his diary?”
“Yes, but –”
“Well. His diary is in there – somewhere.”
“You’re kiddin’ me.”
“Nope. And so is Colin’s diary.”
Squirt looked down at the boxes and said, “But there’s a lot more than just that here.”
“That’s correct,” the old man replied. And then he took a deep breath and said, “What you’re seeing here are diaries from descendants of William and Colin, as well as diaries from other families.”
“So what’s in all of these?” Tim interjected.
“Truth, sonny. That’s truth!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sonny, in there you’ll find the recorded history of the bankers for the last 350 years – but not the way the bankers told history, but instead the way history really happened!”
“Like what?”
“Well. See that book with the red cover?”
Tim picked up the book and turned it over.<
br />
“That’s the civil war – or part of it,” the old man said. “It talks about how the English were lined up on our northern border and the French were positioned down at the Rio Grande – and how the bankers had planned using ‘em for a pincer maneuver to split the U.S.”
“Huh?” Tim exclaimed. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m deadly serious, sonny!”
A moment of silence descended into the lair.
Then the old man pointed to a gray-covered book. “And that there’s the lead up to the war for independence.”
Tim picked up the gray-covered book and turned it over. He opened it to the middle, and read aloud “... the King declared that we (the colonists) could no longer print our own money ...” Tim stopped reading, his eyes widening as he looked at the old man. “Holy shit!”
The old man pointed at a book and said, “This one here talks about the bankers’ takeover of Europe.” And then he pointed at yet another binding. “And then this one here covers the creation of the Federal Reserve.”
“What’s the Federal Reserve got to do with anything?” Squirt asked.
The old man eyed her and smirked. And then he said, “In 1913, the Congress passed the Federal Reserve Act. It created a private banking cartel with monopoly power over the money of the U.S. Since that time, the dollar has lost 98% of its value – due to inflation.” And then his voice quivered as he said, “That's truth!”
Silence again permeated the lair. And then Squirt asked, “What’s this book here?”
“That?” The old man eyed the book cover. “I think that covers the bankruptcy of the U.S.”
“Bankruptcy?” Tim asked incredulously. “But I've never seen THAT in the history books.”
“Most people haven’t. But it's there. It’s in that book you’re holding. And it's all in the public records – House Joint Resolution 192.” The old man's voice dripped cynicism. “But they don't want you to know about it – they’ve hidden it.”
“So, I don’t understand.” Tim interjected, “How could the U.S. go bankrupt? Why didn’t the U.S. just pay the debts with their gold reserves?”
The old man's voice quivered as he answered. “Because the U.S. had been paying out the gold as interest on the debt to the Federal Reserve. And when the gold ran out – voilà – the U.S. was bankrupt.”
“So, the gold in Ft. Knox wasn't owned by the Federal Government?”
“Hell no. If there’s any gold in Ft. Knox, it’s owned by the bankers, not the American People.” The old man looked at the couple. “Frankly, the collapse you’re seeing now is because the U.S. was broke.”
Silence descended as Tim and Squirt looked at each other.
“So. You were telling us how this happened ...”
“Yeah. I was, wasn’t I?”
“So what happened next?”
“Next? God, you keep asking that!”
“Well?”
“Well, that's where we get to the story – the story of how the world went bust. But first, let's get you some more food.”
The old man stood up tentatively, shifting his weight onto his good leg. “Damn it hurts!” His frame jerked to the side as he limped over to the counter.
“Hey, old man,” Tim said. “You need to put that leg up.”
“It'll heal,” the old man replied in a hoarse voice. He pulled out two more cans and cut them open.
Tim held out two dimes. The man looked at the proffered dimes and then looked at Tim. “You keep your money, sonny. Here, take these.” He handed a can each to Tim and Squirt.
The old man snorted. “You were right, Squirt. It was highway robbery.”
He limped back and lowered himself onto his seat. “Now. You two listen to what I have to say ...”
Episode 3 – Quest for Empire
We have, in this country, one of the most corrupt institutions the world has ever known. I refer to the Federal Reserve Board. This evil institution has impoverished the people of the United States and has practically bankrupted our government. It has done this through the corrupt practices of the moneyed vultures who control it.
- - - Congressman Louis T. McFadden in 1932
Part 1 – Ascension
For we are opposed around the world by a monolithic and ruthless conspiracy that relies on covert means for expanding its sphere of influence--on infiltration instead of invasion, on subversion instead of elections, on intimidation instead of free choice, on guerrillas by night instead of armies by day. It is a system which has conscripted vast human and material resources into the building of a tightly knit, highly efficient machine that combines military, diplomatic, intelligence, economic, scientific and political operations.
Its preparations are concealed, not published. Its mistakes are buried not headlined. Its dissenters are silenced, not praised. No expenditure is questioned, no rumor is printed, no secret is revealed.
- - - Excerpted from John F. Kennedy’s Secret Society Speech, April 27, 1961
Chapter 1 – Circa 1950s
REGALED IN A GOLDEN CROWN, sparkling multi-colored jewels, and a silken robe, He glowingly sat on His gold and silk throne, receiving the adulation of the crowd, the throng chanting in unison, “Your Highness! Your Highness! Your Highness!”
He levitated above the crowd, gliding through the air above His adoring subjects. His arms extended outward – taking in the crowd’s applause – and knowing that He was special; that He was their ruler and their savior. And all the while, each person in the crowd bowed to Him on bended knee.
He looked down. And there in the crowd he spied Mother! And Father! They were together, and they too were in adoration of Him.
And then, He lowered Himself to the ground – slowly – making sure that the crowd had ample chance to adore Him, and acknowledge Him as their special savior. And as He landed, the crowd circled him. And in their circle, they moved around Him in a clockwise fashion, chanting, “King Basil! King Basil! ...” And then Mother and Father emerged from the crowd. They came forward and knelt at his feet, bowing, with their faces resting on the ground, and kissing the ground He had just occupied.
Your Highness!
And then the dream ended ... or was it a dream?
* * *
Young Master Basil awoke in his oversized bed and gazed up at the off-white ceiling – adorned as it was with engravings, seemingly chiseled into the surface as if made of stone. The sun was streaming through the balcony windows, creating dancing shadows and reflections on the opposite walls.
Empty, he thought. What is this emptiness I feel inside?
He sat up. Then putting his legs over the side of the bed, he slid down off the bed to the marble floor. He was not yet tall enough to touch his feet to the floor while sitting on the side of the bed. But at 10 years old, he didn’t care.
Summoning the butler, he pushed the button at the side of his bed. It looks like a nice day; he thought. I think I'll see what’s on the balcony. He sauntered toward the French doors and pulled them open, stepping out onto the balcony.
The palace – because it was much more a palace than a home, or even a mansion – stood on a great hill with a magnificent view of a river and surrounding countryside. Master Basil scanned the lands around him; taking in the hundreds of acres of pasture and forest. To Master Basil, the expansive manor and the flowing countryside had always been his home. He could not imagine anything different.
As Master Basil leaned against the railing, his butler entered the suite. “Good morning Master Basil,” Swenson said. “May I draw your bath?”
Master Basil appeared to ignore Swenson’s greeting at first. Swenson shuffled and cleared his throat, yet he waited patiently. Then, Master Basil turned to face Swenson. “Hello, Swenson. Yes, I’d like a bath this morning.”
“Very well, sir.” Swenson went into the bathroom and began running the bath water. While the bath water was running, Swenson returned.
“What is Master Basil’s desire for breakfast this mornin
g?”
“I want eggs benedict, Swenson.”
“Very well, sir. I will inform the chef.”
Swenson then went into the bathroom and turned off the faucet. “Your bath is ready, Master Basil.” Swenson announced. “Is there anything that I may do for you, sir?”
“Where are mother and father?”
“Lady Jessica is getting ready for her bankers’ wives social gathering. And Lord George is traveling out of the country and will return Friday.”
“Is there anything that I may do for you, sir?”
“Yes, Swenson. I want you to lay out my clothes for today.” Master Basil said with a haughty tone. “I desire the gray suit.”
“Very well, Master Basil. As you wish.”
“After you lay out my clothes, you may go, Swenson.”
Swenson bowed; then went to the Master’s dressing area, where he retrieved a handsome gray suit, a red bow tie, appropriate underwear, and shoes. He hung or placed all of these next to the Master’s bureau.
Then, with a robot-like precision and posture, Swenson withdrew from the suite.
Master Basil walked into the bathroom. It was as elegantly appointed as the rest of his suite; with marble floors and a rich, exquisite walnut trim throughout the chamber. Master Basil walked past a mirror and looked back at himself. He spent a few moments in front of the mirror, admiring his regal posture and his dignified features. If I hold my head like this, he shifted his head ever so slightly, then I stand like a king.
Master Basil dropped his pajamas, and stepped into the bathtub; proceeding to wash his fair, unblemished skin.
He reflected on the day’s coming events. That science tutor was coming today. He was too pushy and too demanding; and I never seem to get the right answers. I think I might fire him and get Mother to get me another one.
Greed Page 7
