Wind, Tides, Maps, Weather...

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Tell The Truth Mr. President. Please Tell the Truth

Day by day I watch the President go from "Yes we can" to "Yes you will". With the emphasis on the You Will. This isn't the nation I grew up in. Not one bit. I guess that these people were -- like Glenn Beck says they are and which my own personal research says is darkly true -- planning this for close-on 100 years. A utopian government that takes care of the stupid little workers, gives them a nice house (choose from an Adobe Template of five beautiful colors!), ensure that their children are indoctrinated -- at government cost -- in progressive colleges, and have a job working for the federal government when they graduate.

I grew up poor as hell. I got relatively rich, and lost every dime of it. Not once during those ups and downs, and the middles like I find myself in now, did I feel that things would be better if only somebody else would somehow make things better for me. I was taught from the time I was a child that it was my responsibility to pay my own electric bill. It was my choice to find a job or find an idea for a company I owned myself. I chose the latter. And while I worked, and while I grew old, I felt i was blessed by God to live in this almost magical country. I believe in the invisible, you see. I don't know it's name, although I have gone through times in my life I thought I did. I was sure I did. But I don't. It's name's been Shiva, and It's name's been God. It's name's been Jesus, and in a bee language somewhere on a planet where bees are the ones building computers and heart valves, I am sure Its name is Bzzzzzz. Or Bizzzzzzzz. Depends on where in the hive you grew up.

This is no joking matter, although I try to smile all day. Today I heard the president say that he has a plan. In case you don't guess correctly, it's a government program. To find, sort out, and of course punish relentlessly those nasty speculators.

Ever play poker? My little girl loves to play poker. So too, does my wife's best friend. They both go to the casino, and sometimes win money and sometimes lose money. They love the rush. There are other gamblers in this incredible and vast world of ours. They gamble on the future price of commodities. Everything from cow-anal cavities to pork rinds, diamond dust to oil futures, people bet on what something is going to cost next week or next month. They are called speculators. Some speculate on oil futures, and some on pig bellies. Some on orange juice, and my daughter on the King of Diamonds. They're all the same. They're gamblers.

The commodities world is simple to understand and actually quite easy to participate in. Here's how it works.

I bet you ten dollars that you won't pay ten dollars for this ten dollars in ten days...
Here's a real-world (but not real numbers) scenario where somebody might want to bet on what something is going to cost next week. The orange industry. Let's say you own 100 acres of orange groves. When the oranges grow, and you squeeze them in your squeezing machine. you will be able sell 100 gallons of tasty orange juice for $100. We're obviously rounding the numbers. Orange doesn't cost that much yet. But wait a few years. Wait till the eighth or ninth "easing" of the economy by our socialist leaders).

So. You're growing your oranges, and feeding your dope plants in the back fields, and you're watching the weather. Out on the Seattle Coastline, a storm brews. You know what's gonna happen like you know the breed of that dope you're growing. (Blueberry, let's say). You know that the storm is going to grow in strength, barrel across the midwest dropping temperatures and snow on its way, and it's likely to drop the temperatures in Plant City Florida where your squeezing machine is sitting and waiting for the warm winter because of the global warming your greedy SUV driving friends are causing. Below freezing. in fact.

So you go to the casino. It's called the Chicago Mercantile. You go to the table, you pull out your chips, and you bet the price of orange juice is gonna be $120 a gallon in two weeks. Not $100 a gallon, but 20% more. So you BUY 100 barrels of orange juice. You don't have to take them. You just get a contract to take them at the pre-determined price of, let's say $102. Why so cheap? There is another grower betting the freeze doesn't make it to Plant City. He is betting you it's gonna stop at Gainesville -- 80 miles or so north.

Guess what, Mr. President. You can blow smoke up all the asses you want to. But your attempts at scholarly responses to the real world we all live in are exactly what they sound like. Bullshit. I am not 1%. What is fair, Mr. President? How about this?

No private property. No private wealth. The government owns all, and shares all fairly.
Sound familiar, ladies and gentleman? Wake up, America. Wake up. There are no government plans. There are no government programs. We are two inches from this guy cancelling elections. Wake up and smell the grey uniforms. Wake up

There are 50 million Americans on Food Stamps. Is cutting that number cruel? Here is what you are gonna here. Evil republicans want to cut your food, so they can build evil rockets and guns to kill people. They're building black buildings to watch our emails, they're bypassing congress to regulate us to death, and they intend to keep control over what was the greatest nation on the planet. Are you actually going to sit by and wait till they shut us down? Or are you going to act? Talk to your neighbors. Tell the truth. Check our facts. Do your own research. And pray for our nation.

Gary Poyssick

No comments:

Post a Comment

As always, your thoughts are appreciated.