Some people like what they call "r/K theory," in part because of people who like what they think of as "eugenics," and from the financial side, from the collective stupidity of decamillionaires and centimillionaires. The latter are usually stupider, having more likely received their wealth from inheritance or entertainment, but the former are often nearly as stupid, being usually either less successful entertainers, ghetto- or suburb-lottery winners, Middle Eastern extended royalty, or third- or fourth-generation heirs from a drying tree. It's funny, kind of, how the "middle class" of finance--say, $10 to maybe $250 million--is generally dumber than either the make-believe wealthy, or the $1-$10M wealthy, like part of a bell curve in apparent reverse.
We've discussed scams which trick people into believing that one monkey at a keyboard is a better writer than others, by assembling a group of monkeys and then using the output of the one who misspells the least to prove that said monkey is either literate at all, or "more literate" than the other monkeys. The simplistic form of the complaint can be easily misunderstood by: (1) people who don't understand pyramid investing, and (2) people who understand pyramid investing quite well or very well, but who haven't seen certain things behind the curtain, and so view the suggested scheme as impossible. Let's give an investing intro, then look at how the schemes actually work.
The world is broken. Everyone's so content they don't know the meaning of discontent, all the shows are about minutely wishful fiction instead of about real-like people, antidepressants and reality shows are stupid and fat people are everywhere. System purged?
* * *
A weathered old cowboy walks into a blue-darkened bar and sits down at a little round table with one leg that doesn't quite touch the floor. The waitress comes by, he nods a couple times, and she brings him a whisky. He sits there drinking it, stony-faced, until an eager young soldier comes in.
The soldier scans the room. His eyes go wide with anxiety. Once he's finished searching out the patrons, he hurries over to the cowboy's table. "Sir!" he says. "I'm gonna need your help. See those two perverts over there?"
The cowboy looks up. He sees the table the soldier had mentioned. A couple fruits in Aloha shirts are sitting there, having daiquiris and laughing a little too loudly.
"They're sexual transgressors," the soldier explains. "Gonna have to ask for your gun-arm."
Bitterly, the cowboy stares into his whisky. "The fuck you care? You jealous or somethin?"
* * *
We already know stocks, don't we? Controlling the money can control a constant, hilariously indiscernible yet minutely identifiable inflation, whereby merely saving wealth is death over the long term, making stock gambling incumbent upon anyone who cares intergenerationally. So you give your capital to some board of directors, and they occasionally throw some dividends back, although the magic fairy god of the invisible unpredictable market may zero the loan balance at any point, you owner you, utterly eliminating the investment. Ergo over enough time, it's all taken away, stock and savings, at risk not quite as much as starting your own restaurant across the street from what would clearly be a good spot for a new national chain, but still at risk, e.g., nothing is yours because controlling the means of exchange really does mean controlling it all, ergo you're not winning just because you manage to occasionally breathe easy or rent a dingy with its own wetbar attached. Who knows? Maybe temporal material pleasures really are all we can take away from this. Better than building a life around the study and dissection of such most-inviolate currencies, no? From one very limited point of view, yes--it's not just everything, it's the only thing.