Money; the more you get the more you need. The more you need the more you have to work for it, giving you less time to enjoy spending it, accumulating rooms full of unused junk, expensive gadgets of no value and essential accessories with no purpose – where’s the fucking logic? On the wall of my tree-house hangs a picture of an old Cree man, the distance and age etched on his face. At the bottom of the picture is the following quote:
‘Only when the last tree has died and the last river been poisoned and the last fish been caught will we realise we cannot eat money.’
I know, I know; you think me a naïve monkey to be listening to all that pseudo-earth-lovin’ bullshit, but hey, surely there are those amongst your species that know where it’s at, that are not consumed by that greed and lust for the all encompassing power that you hold so dear as a god-given right - that which you label ‘freedom’ and which leaves us all teetering on the brink of extinction.
‘I promise to pay the bearer on de-fucking-mand, two thousand years of destruction’ – Print that on your money, at least be honest about it.
‘Only when the last tree has died and the last river been poisoned and the last fish been caught will we realise we cannot eat money.’
I know, I know; you think me a naïve monkey to be listening to all that pseudo-earth-lovin’ bullshit, but hey, surely there are those amongst your species that know where it’s at, that are not consumed by that greed and lust for the all encompassing power that you hold so dear as a god-given right - that which you label ‘freedom’ and which leaves us all teetering on the brink of extinction.
‘I promise to pay the bearer on de-fucking-mand, two thousand years of destruction’ – Print that on your money, at least be honest about it.
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