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NUCLEAR SUBS

The Berlin Wall has fallen in 1989, but the Cold War never ended and it’s here to last.

This episode about submarines is both comical and tragic, for the same reason: the obsession with money and the irresponsible moronity of world leaders. As far as I can get it, Australians need subs, so they say. China, Japan and Australia claim portions of the Ocean. It’s all about having control over navigation routes. If China wins, it will be disaster.

Australia had some contract with France to buy a handful of conventional subs. France was having multiple orgasms with the prospect of money pouring in. America got jealous of such a tremendous joy and makes the elitist proposal of nuclear subs on sale, reactors made in Britain. Join the grown-ups, you cangurus! It will be far less submarines, but they will be nuclear! All among brothers of the English language. How awesome is that? Now Australia was jumping with a never ending hard-on.

France cries hysterically, no more orgasms, all pissed-off. Europe feels betrayed. First the Brexit and now this. The European Union is a joke and is treated as such. NATO is shown to be what it always was: America is the guardian of Europe; without America there would be no Europe; America does as pleases and Europe shuts up. Have no illusions, you French and alike. Australia will have our submarines. Subs from America nearby Chinese waters. It will be America, not Europe, to have control over the place. A big nuclear sub. Our sub is bigger than yours!

The world is all messed up and leaders are spending millions on nuclear submarines. Leaders are crying for the loss of contracts to build submarines, amidst a pandemic and a climate crisis. Blame it on the communists. Then the Russians, now the Chinese. I wonder what Putin is thinking about. First, Crimea. Next, Ukraine?

Biden leaves Afghanistan, saying at the UN it’s the first time in twenty years an American president makes a speech there without America being at war. I guess the Taliban are grateful for that. Go make submarines to Australians and play naval battle with the Chinese. Have your orgasms with blowjobs from willing Brits and cangurus. We’ll keep on with our terror agenda and exodus of infidels to Europe. The more flooding away, the more for us to bomb there with suicide squads longing for virgins.

Nuclear subs, nuclear reactors, nuclear energy, nuclear power, nuclear morons. Business as usual. Millions in blood money. Lets give a boost to the arms race. The more nuclear we get, the more orgasmic the Apocalypse.

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The Forced Salesman

I was raised to hate commerce, business and money. All that had to do with wealth had the spectrum of dishonesty, selfishness and harm to others, either through exploitation or deceive. To my ethic self, decent activities were those which income came from wages. A person worked and was regularly paid without having to kiss ass. Salespersons were ass-kissers, greasing customers with coupons, sales, discounts, bullshit discourses about the quality of the products and the integrity of their makers. The same line of thought were applied to service providers, artists included, and their cult of personality or campaigns of self-promotion. All publicity should be banned to my eyes.

I was a jerk in wonderland.

Only when I became aware of the concept sovereign debt I came across reality and the nature of both trading and money. Sovereign debt meant that nations were part of the investment market. That denoted wages for public servants and funds for public infrastructures came from thousands of anonymous investors who could be either businessmen or drug cartels washing their money. Nobody knows for sure if one’s country runs on blood money from thugs. And astonishingly enough, from our stained hands we give them back the money with interests through our taxes. We also give money as consumers of the products thugs sell to us, most of them made in countries where workers have no human rights.

Two main lessons are taken from this. First, all wages come from trading. Second, all trading has blood in it.

As far as my actions, this means that becoming a salesman, either of my products or my services, is not a loss of nobility. On the contrary, it is a gain. I would be providing my own money instead of having a boss with the hard task of making the decisions for an ensured income. Such a task is now mine. As for the blood, I might have the possibility of making the right choices, while as wage earner I have no choice at all.

I have no idea whether my store and my drawings will open the possibility of having a business of my one. Nevertheless, I have learnt that publicity is both legitimate and essential. The challenge is to make it effective and decent.