by Ray Jason
For several years I have been haunted by a simple photograph that I saw only one time. The image itself is not complicated, and yet its deeper meaning has eluded me and taunted me - like a riddle inside a dream.
In the photo we see a few children waiting in line at the ticket booth of a traveling circus. But instead of paying with money, each of the youngsters is offering something of real value. One has a basket of eggs, another a loaf of bread, and the third child is holding a live chicken.
The reason these kids are not buying their tickets with cash, is because they are trapped in the hyperinflation nightmare of Weimar Germany in the 1930s. We have all seen the black and white pictures of fathers pushing wheelbarrows full of Deutchmarks to the store with the hopes of feeding their families.
I just spent many hours on various search engines trying to locate that circus photo, but I failed. However, is it not the writer’s task to paint a word picture as vividly as real life? So here is what I saw in that sepia-frozen moment in time.
A BIG TOP AMID THE RUINS
The joy on the faces of the children is almost beatific as they wait their turn to present their offering like the Magi of old. From the benevolent smile of the woman in the booth, I suspect that she accepted every item – no matter how humble.
In a matter of minutes they would be inside the mighty tent with joy swelling within them as the Ringmaster made his entrance. For two sublime hours they could escape the trauma of daily lives shattered by the decrees of far away gray old men, who would never have to share their suffering.
The performers and their audience were bound together under the Big Top in a sort of dilapidated symphony to the Human Spirit. The tattered circus -barely scraping by from town to town, and the common folk who did their best to support them, refused to lose faith in the dream of a brighter tomorrow. After all, if the men on the flying trapeze would risk their lives for a common, backyard chicken then hope must not be extinguished.
THE CIRCUS OF TODAY
In the 1930s a circus would have been one of the highlights of the year for an ordinary family. Today a young person is bombarded with a huge array of distractions disguised as attractions. Sitting together on the hardwood benches beneath the Big Top was a bonding experience. But slouching around in the living room, with everyone fixated on their own Hypno-screens, isolates people.
The children in the old photo had real life skills. They could raise the chicken and fetch the eggs and bake the bread. What can their modern counterparts do? Tweet and twerk?
However, what is even more disturbing about these vapid, meaningless substitutes for real living, is their implication for human flourishing. The designers of these devices know that they are “control devices.” They are deliberately addictive. They consume their consumers. They have become almost the only source of information. And so, the people who control the messaging on the screen, create the dominant perceptions.
These are not good people. I call them our Malignant Overlords, because they are not just content with obscene wealth and immense power. Instead, their sense of superiority and entitlement is so psychotic that they believe that they should manage every detail of the average persons life. The plans that they have for our futures are beyond grim. The best simple description of it is a High-Tech Neo-Feudalism.
The Elites will waddle about in luxury in their gated and guarded communities, while the rest of us will barely scrape by. Meat will become a rare treat and our normal “food” will be goo made from insects or lab grown Frankenfood. Current middle class pleasures like owning a house or car or taking an overseas vacation, will become distant memories. The surveillance grid will become almost inescapable with kitchen appliances monitoring and reporting our behavior. Wouldn’t want to exceed one’s carbon footprint.
Cash will be banned and every electronic transaction will be logged and evaluated. Enemies of the State will see their bank accounts vaporized. All will fear Big Brother. Or will it soon be Big TransBro?
These predictions are not outlandish conspiracy emissions. Their plans can easily be found with a little online research. White papers from The World Economic Forum, the United Nations and the Rockefeller Foundation are great examples of this. At mid-year of 2022, it seems obvious that they have now transitioned from beta-testing to actual implementation of their tyrannical game plan.
Food shortages and supply chain disruptions are rampant all around the globe. Celebrities are doing slick commercials raving about the joys of insect protein. Gasoline prices are making driving a luxury that will soon be affordable for far fewer people.
Worldwide inflation is driving up food prices leading to mass famine. The “people on TV” are talking about digital currencies as though it is already a done deal. The media is full of stories about the benefits of living in tiny dwellings. The World Health Organization is trying to seize the right to decree when any human must “get their next shot.”
These are their near-term plans. Their long-range desires are even more despicable. Since robots and Artificial Intelligence will make most human beings “surplus to demand” or no longer necessary. The population will be radically reduced.
The Malignant Overlords will claim that this is to Save the Planet. In actuality, it is to save the planet for themselves. That way they will no longer have to share the beautiful locations with the riff-raff. The best spots will be their private Club Med. Thinking of it as their personal Club Earth is probably an accurate image.
The few humans that they will allow to continue will be implanted with micro-chips that will control them and transform them into docile, obedient cyborgs.
THE CIRCUS OF THE FUTURE
Sometime in the not too distant future, when the whole world seems hopelessly digitized and sanitized and homogenized, a rumor might circulate about a strange troupe of performers that have been hiding out in the Forbidden Forest beyond the reach of the security drones. That same rumor mentions that on the next full moon they will perform an old-style circus on the edge of the forest for all who would dare to attend.
They will not accept digital currency for their performance, but instead they request that the audience members bring “something useful.”
And so I am reminded of the Weimar Children, who long ago entered the magical Big Top, in exchange for some eggs, some bread and a chicken.
Since I am a Sea Gypsy, I will bring a freshly-speared fish.
