Conspiracy Of The Rich Quotes

So it's a coincidence. Just like you said. Two rich parents with two rich kids at the same school. They're both killed in accidents. Why are you so interested?" "Because I don't like coincidence," Blunt replied. "In fact, I don't believe in coincidence. Where some people see coincidence, I see conspiracy. That's my job.

England is not the jewelled isle of Shakespeare's much-quoted message, nor is it the inferno depicted by Dr Goebbels. More than either it resembles a family, a rather stuffy Victorian family, with not many black sheep in it but with all its cupboards bursting with skeletons. It has rich relations who have to be kow-towed to and poor relations who are horribly sat upon, and there is a deep conspiracy of silence about the source of the family income. It is a family in which the young are generally thwarted and most of the power is in the hands of irresponsible uncles and bedridden aunts. Still, it is a family. It has its private language and its common memories, and at the approach of an enemy it closes its ranks. A family with the wrong members in control - that, perhaps is as near as one can come to describing England in a phrase.

Therefore I must say that, as I hope for mercy, I can have no other notion of all the other governments that I see or know, than that they are a conspiracy of the rich, who, on pretence of managing the public, only pursue their private ends, and devise all the ways and arts they can find out;

If greed were not the master of modern man--ably assisted by envy--how could it be that the frenzy of economism does not abate as higher "standards of living" are attained, and that it is precisely the richest societies which pursue their economic advantage with the greatest ruthlessness? How could we explain the almost universal refusal on the part of the rulers of the rich societies--where organized along private enterprise or collective enterprise lines--to work towards the humanisation of work? It is only necessary to assert that something would reduce the "standard of living" and every debate is instantly closed. That soul-destroying, meaningless, mechanical, monotonous, moronic work is an insult to human nature which must necessarily and inevitably produce either escapism or aggression, and that no amount of of "bread and circuses" can compensate for the damage done--these are facts which are neither denied nor acknowledged but are met with an unbreakable conspiracy of silence--because to deny them would be too obviously absurd and to acknowledge them would condemn the central preoccupation of modern society as a crime against humanity.

One of the most damaging myths of our time is that poor countries live in poverty because of a conspiracy of the rich countries, who arrange things so as to keep them underdeveloped, in order to exploit them.

Still today the Old Testament book of Psalms gives great power for faith and life. This is simply because it preserves a conceptually rich language about God and our relationships to him. If you bury yourself in Psalms, you emerge knowing God and understanding life.

Were you going to tell me you usually kiss your one-night trollops in private?" He laughed. The free-ringing sound held a spark of pure pleasure, unforced and rich with surprise.

As God loves me, when I consider this, then every modern society seems to me to be nothing but a conspiracy of the rick, who while protesting their interest in the common good pursue their own interests and stop at no trick and deception to secure their ill-gotten possessions, to pay as little as possible for the labor that produces their wealth and so force its makers to accept the nearest thing to nothing. They contrive rules for securing and assuring these tidy profits for the rich in the name of the common good, including of course the poor, and call them laws!

The rightful One and the girl with the violet eyes The One, who walks through fire and does not burn The girl, born of the twelve Their fates mapped together become the fate of the circle Through their union, the birthright of the Diadochi is uncovered. The riches of Iskander, the power of Zeus, the means to vanquish the greatest enemies. The One, when it is his, becomes invencible.

When I consider and weigh in my mind all these commonwealths, which nowadays anywhere do flourish . . . I can perceive nothing but a certain conspiracy of rich men procuring their own commodities under the name and title of the commonwealth.

Despite the absence of Queen Elizabeth II’s name in annual Forbes Rich Lists, everyone in the room was aware the Queen was one of the wealthiest people in the world, if not the wealthiest. However, hers and the House of Windsor’s assets and income were mostly non-declared.

Leigh was constantly amazed when rich white people assumed the system always worked until they found themselves wrapped up in it. Then, it had to be some kind of God damned conspiracy.

Armstrong was perfect for their goals—an extraordinary combination of athletic talent, drive, ambition, and ruthlessness. And once he began winning, he became the chairman and CEO of the business of making himself rich and famous.

Inequality and poverty, unhealth and no wealth are hand in hand. And if we are all born equal that should be true in all lands. We cannot divide the world between poor and rich countries. It's like saying the ones are good, the others are junkies. That can only increase more prejudice, miseries and sorrow. Turning the wheel today it will lead to a better tomorrow.

I would have loved to live in a world of women and men gaily in collusion with green leaves, stalks, building mineral cities, transparent domes, little huts of woven grass each with its own pattern— a conspiracy to coexist with the Crab Nebula, the exploding universe, the Mind—

As the 1990s began, the right stayed angry and upset and kept growing in size and power thanks to the primitives, the bigots, the Protestant fundamentalists and cowboy commando conspiracy fantasists. But the grown-ups on the right, the economic right, corporate leaders and the rest of the rich, kept their eye on the prize—less taxation, less regulation of business, greed is good—and they maintained control of the party.

Lance is the inevitable product of our celebrity-worshipping culture and the whole money-mad world of sports gone amok. This is the Golden Age of fraud, an era of general willingness to ignore and justify the wrongdoings of the rich and powerful, which makes every lie bigger and widens its destructive path.

Why are the super-rich for socialism? Don't they have the most to lose? I take a look at my bank account and compare it with Nelson Rockefeller's and it seems funny that I'm against socialism and he's out promoting it." Or is it funny? In reality, there is a vast difference between what the promoters define as socialism and what it is in actual practice. The idea that socialism is a share-the-wealth program is strictly a confidence game to get the people to surrender their freedom to an all-powerful collectivist government. While the Insiders tell us we are building a paradise on earth, we are actually constructing a jail for ourselves.

The earth. Silently spinning, falling, breaking, reforming each and every millionth of a second. The earth, whose conspiracy it is to give everything it has, to offer up itself and only itself, and all of itself. Then to take back, one at a time, all it has given, every richness, every fragment, every follicle, folding it deep into the furnace of its heart, in a cold and perfect contract.

Donald Trump was appearing on cable news channels to peddle conspiracy theories about Barack Obama’s religion and place of birth. It was 2011. The Apprentice was winding down and struggling. Like anyone, Donald Trump wanted to stay on television, so he was trying out some new ways of doing so, such as musing about running for president and/or just wandering onto cable news sets to tell obvious lies without any credentials other than that he was a (supposedly) rich white man who wanted to talk right now.

IT was a sad if not an altogether broken young man who came to live in London after Wilde’s death. He could not yet realize that people, and particularly people in what was still called Society, had an uneasy conscience about their treatment of his friend and would fasten on him as a convenient scapegoat. We did not kill the man’s genius, they said in effect, we did not encourage a conspiracy to imprison him by means of a preposterous law, we are not to blame for his barren last years and early death; it was all the fault of this young man who bewitched him into a disastrous attack on his father, who is still free, rich, handsome, as we are not.

Explaining how the two of them, up there in the Green Mountains, had managed to dial down life's urgencies and dial up its pleasures and richness, Gary put it beautifully and poetically: "We've discovered a way" he confided with a sense of gleeful wonderment, "to bend time." I imagined Tracy and me engaged in a similar conspiracy a dozen years or so from now.

They have plundered the world, stripping naked the land in their hunger . . . they are driven by greed, if their enemy be rich; by ambition, if poor. . . . They ravage, they slaughter, they seize by false pretenses, and all of this they hail as the construction of empire. And when in their wake nothing remains but a desert, they call that peace. —Tacitus, Roman senator and historian1

I read love stories and love poems. But I preferred books written about rulers. I read about a ruler whose female servants and concubines were as numerous as his army, and about another whose only interests in life were wine, women, and whipping his slaves. A third cared little for women, but enjoyed wars, killing, and torturing men. Another of these rulers loved food, money and hoarding riches without end. Still another was possessed with such an admiration for himself and his greatness that for him no one else in the land existed. There was also a ruler so obsessed with plots and conspiracies that he spent all his time distorting the facts of history and trying to fool his people.I discovered that all these rulers were men. What they had in common was an avaricious and distorted personality, a never-ending appetite for money, sex and unlimited power. They were men who sowed corruption on the earth, and plundered their peoples, men endowed with loud voices, a capacity for persuasion, for choosing sweet words and shooting poisoned arrows. Thus, the truth about them was revealed only after their deaths, and as a result I discovered that history tended to repeat itself with a foolish obstinacy.

We should, to begin with, think that God leads a very interesting life, and that he is full of joy. Undoubtedly he is the most joyous being in the universe. The abundance of his love and generosity is inseparable from his infinite joy. All of the good and beautiful things from which we occasionally drink tiny droplets of soul-exhilarating joy, God continuously experiences in all their breadth and depth and richness.

If the media reports it and says it is a conspiracy. Then that is where you need to look and focus on. They are covering it up because they are also part of that conspiracy. The media is very good in distorting the truth and saying it is a conspiracy. The media is always the enemy of the people. It is never for the people. It is always against the people. It is a tool used by the rich to capture and control the masses.

Bill and Hillary started with nothing. Bill is now the wealthiest ex-president in the United States. Might it be because Hillary greased the skids after which Bill accepted massive gratuities? Many think we may never know because she refuses to give up her email server. How do you go from dead broke to filthy rich? Why would you not recuse yourself as Secretary of State when there is a conflict of interest or even the appearance of one?

Last night, I spoke at one of the Circle Meetings of the Baptist Church. Afterward, a Kenyan friend, Wangari Waigwa-Stone, and I spoke about darkness and stars. “I was raised under an African sky,” she said. “Darkness was never something I was afraid of. The clarity, definition, and profusion of stars became maps as to how one navigates at night. I always knew where I was simply by looking up.” She paused. “My sons do not have these guides. They have no relationship to darkness, nothing in their imagination tells them there are pathways in the night they can move through.” “I have a Norwegian friend who says, ‘City lights are a conspiracy against higher thought,’ ” I added. “Indeed,” Wangari said, smiling, her rich, deep voice resonating. “I am Kikuyu. My people believe if you are close to the Earth, you are close to people.” “How so?” I asked. “What an African woman nurtures in the soil will eventually feed her family. Likewise, what she nurtures in her relations will ultimately nurture her community. It is a matter of living the circle. “Because we have forgotten our kinship with the land,” she continued, “our kinship with each other has become pale. We shy away from accountability and involvement. We choose to be occupied, which is quite different from being engaged. In America, time is money. In Kenya, time is relationship. We look at investments differently.

Lord Alfred Milner, wealthy Englishman and front man for the Rothschilds, served as paymaster for the international bankers in Petrograd during the Bolshevik Revolution. Milner later headed secret society known as The Round Table which was dedicated to establishing a world government whereby a clique Of super-rich financiers would control the world under the guise of Socialism. The American subsidiary of this conspiracy is called the Council on Foreign Relations and was started by. and is still controlled by Leftist international bankers.

In any case, we should expect that in due time we will be moved into our eternal destiny of creative activity with Jesus and his friends and associates in the “many mansions” of “his Father’s house.” Thus, we should not think of ourselves as destined to be celestial bureaucrats, involved eternally in celestial “administrivia.” That would be only slightly better than being caught in an everlasting church service. No, we should think of our destiny as being absorbed in a tremendously creative team effort, with unimaginably splendid leadership, on an inconceivably vast plane of activity, with ever more comprehensive cycles of productivity and enjoyment. This is the “eye hath not seen, neither ear heard” that lies before us in the prophetic vision (Isa. 64:4). This Is Shalom When Saint Augustine comes to the very end of his book The City of God, he attempts to address the question of “how the saints shall be employed when they are clothed in immortal and spiritual bodies.”15 At first he confesses that he is “at a loss to understand the nature of that employment.” But then he settles upon the word peace to describe it, and develops the idea of peace by reference to the vision of God—utilizing, as we too have done, the rich passage from 1 Corinthians 13. Thus he speaks of our “employment” then as being “the beatific vision.” The eternal blessedness of the city of God is presented as a “perpetual Sabbath.” In words so beautiful that everyone should know them by heart, he says, “There we shall rest and see, see and love, love and praise. This is what shall be in the end without end. For what other end do we propose to ourselves than to attain to the kingdom of which there is no end?” And yet, for all their beauty and goodness, these words do not seem to me to capture the blessed condition of the restoration of all things—of the kingdom come in its utter fullness. Repose, yes. But not as quiescence, passivity, eternal fixity. It is, instead, peace as wholeness, as fullness of function, as the restful but unending creativity involved in a cosmoswide, cooperative pursuit of a created order that continuously approaches but never reaches the limitless goodness and greatness of the triune personality of God, its source. This, surely, is the word of Jesus when he says, “Those who overcome will be welcomed to sit with me on my throne, as I too overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne. Those capable of hearing should listen to what the Spirit is saying to my people” (Rev. 3:21

demons. She doesn’t just carry weapons—she is a weapon against the enemy and the greatest weapon God ever created against darkness! Let’s talk about what virtuous means from a scriptural perspective. God defines virtuous woman in the same way He defines virtuous man—as someone who fears God, loves truth, and hates sin. The Hebrew word for virtuous in Proverbs 31 is translated several different ways. Translations of Exodus 18:21 and 1 Kings 1:42, 52 use words such as able, worthy, competent, capable, and honorable. The word virtuous used in Proverbs 31 is used to describe Ruth (Ruth 3:11), and it is also used to describe Boaz in Ruth 2:1—a man of standing (in him is strength). Ruth 3:11 says that everyone in the city knew Ruth was virtuous. That’s because real virtue is something that gets noticed even as the world tries hard not to embrace it. Ruth was the real deal, and everyone knew it. God is very purposeful in the way He makes us as men and women. As I mentioned earlier, Scripture says God made woman to be the crown of her husband (Prov. 12:4). The Hebrew word for crown is derived from atar, which means “to encircle (for attack or protection).”1 If the virtuous woman is the crown of her husband, then she is anointed to secure his domain, to encircle him like spiritual radar, protecting their territory from infiltration. The man who wears his crown securely on his head—who understands who his virtuous wife is and values her role—isn’t intimidated by her. Quite the contrary; he knows she is a spiritual force against the enemy, designed to work in tandem with her husband, offering not only protection in the spiritual but success and prosperity in the natural (Prov. 31:22), manifesting her God-given abilities through her labor (v. 24). The Hebrew word for virtuous is chayil, which accurately defines the role of the virtuous woman. Chayil, from the Hebrew chuwl, means a force [to be reckoned with], whether of men, means or other resources; army; might, power, riches; displaying strength, ability, and moral worth. A virtuous woman is a force to be reckoned with because she is worthy of war,

We live in a world where only people like Peter Thiel can pull something so intentional and long-term off—and it’s not because, as Gawker has tried to make it seem, he’s rich. It’s because he’s one of the few who believes it can be done

They toured India, after calls for Maud to be banned from performing there; imperial values imagined that Maud’s erotic dance would excite the ‘rich native’ to an unsafe degree,

He tried on a decorative breastplate but thought it made him look too fat. Instead he chose a rich suit of crimson wool lined with sable.

Civil society is hardly more than a conspiracy by the rich to guarantee their plunder.

It was Sir Thomas More, from whom Shakespeare borrowed so much of his portrait of Richard III, who put the matter most clearly almost a hundred years earlier: “When I consider any social system that prevails in the modern world,” More wrote in Utopia, “I can’t, so help me God, see it as anything but a conspiracy of the rich.

When the British ploy to pressure the Shah into fast action on the dismissal of Mossadeq did not work, officials from Whitehall consulted Ann Lambton, by then a professor of Persian Studies in London and a sage on British foreign policy in Iran. Her advice was clear, categorical, and drastic: find a way to remove Mossadeq from power forcefully. He is a demagogue, she said, and the only way Britain would retain its influence in Iran would be through his removal. She also believed that the British government must ultimately handle this matter alone, as in her mind the United States had “neither the experience, nor the psychological” depth to understand Iran—a sentiment much shared in those days by British officials.44 She introduced government officials to Robin Zaehner, a professor-spy, who could help plan and implement her proposed coup against Mossadeq. If Zaehner was one of the British masters of conspiracy against Mossadeq, then the three Rashidian brothers were Zaehner’s chief instruments of mischief. No sooner had Mossadeq come to power than the brothers began to receive large funds from the British to “maintain their agents.” 45 In June 1951, when British efforts to convince the Shah to fire Mossadeq failed, they threatened to attack Iran and take over the oil region of the country: in the words of the Foreign Secretary, “to cow the insolent natives.” 46 The operation, aptly called “Buccaneer,” entailed sending a number of British warships to the waters off the coast of the oil-rich region of Khuzestan and authorized “the use of force, if necessary.” 47 Encouraged by the Truman administration’s strong opposition to the idea of a military solution, the Shah told the British Ambassador that “I will personally lead my soldiers into battle against you if you attack Iran.

We will never have the easy, unhesitating love of God that makes obedience to Jesus our natural response unless we are absolutely sure that it is good for us to be, and to be who we are. This means we must have no doubt that the path appointed for us by when and where and to whom we were born is good, and that nothing irredeemable has happened to us or can happen to us on our way to our destiny in God’s full world. Any doubt on this point gives force to the soul-numbing idea that God’s commandments are, after all, only for his benefit and enjoyment, and that in the final analysis we must look out for ourselves. When the “moral failures” of well-known Christians (and unknown Christians, for that matter) are examined, they always turn out to be based on the idea that God has required them to serve in such a way that they themselves must “take care of their own needs” rather than being richly provided for by God. Resentment toward God, not love, is the outcome, and from such a condition it is impossible to consistently do the deeds of love.

So, what is it that makes an ‘open conspiracy’ open, as in placed there in plain sight for everyone to see? Larry Hecht explains: “what makes the ‘open conspiracy’ open, is not the laying out of some secret master plan, not the revealing of the membership roster of some inner sanctum of the rich and powerful, which the typical deluded populist supposes to be the secret to power in the world. It is, rather, the understanding that ideas, philosophy and culture, control history. What constitutes a conspiracy, for good or evil, is a set of ideas which embody a concept of what it is to be human, and a conception of man’s role in universal history.

The empty apartments. They’re the key to what I have planned. I need to establish a foothold. I want you to move into one. I’m asking all my warriors to do that, minus the ones I need for protection here on the barge, of course.” “The empties are real?” Another one of those Qaanaaq stories that people loved to tell, right up there with the heat-resistant spiders that supposedly infested the geothermal pipes, and the threat of Russian invasion. Allegedly, it was common practice for shareholders to keep some of their holdings off the market. A sort of gentleperson’s agreement, to artificially inflate prices by increasing demand by keeping supply low. Soq didn’t doubt that the empties existed, but they were pretty sure their number was exaggerated, as was the extent of the conspiracy behind it. The more likely reason was the simple thoughtless wickedness of the rich, who had more money than they knew what to do with, who didn’t need the rental income and could keep an apartment empty for Grandma’s once-a-year visit or in memory of a loved one dead for decades. Either explanation was unacceptable. Shareholders were wise to keep themselves hidden, because surely Soq wasn’t the only one who would gladly stomp them to death if given the chance.

Another peak rises above you. High, elegant, it draws you, but looking down there is a forest blocking your path. The forest is dark, the way is rough; strange fogs confuse the trees; you hear growls on one side, howls on the other. It is a fearful route but, for the bold adventurer, this makes it all the more imperative to find a way through. Not just for the high peak that waits on the other side, but the forest itself contains infinite riches of beauty. If I may, I would like to look at a part of our history as just such a journey. The Han Dynasty and Tang Dynasty are plainly commanding heights in our history. They were such powerful empires and cultures that I sometimes like to refer to all of Chinese civilization as Han-Tang culture. But we must not forget that between the high points of the Han and the Tang, there was a deep thicket of history: the wars of the Three Kingdoms, the brief and troubled Jin Dynasties, and the divided China of the Northern and Southern Dynasties. Within this dark forest, there was no certainty, no single universe under watchful skies. There was no unity of vision: Everywhere was chaos and conflict; every moment was flight and death. Conspiracies sprouted in all corners. The names we know from that time trailed drama in their wake, but all the chaos, all the disruption did not douse the human spirit.

a conspiracy of rich men procuring their own commodities under the name and title of a commonwealth” fitted England very accurately during these years.

I’m really tired of this talk about how these poor people don’t trust anything anymore. Oh no—you trust. You just trust all the wrong stuff. You trust awful people, with awful intentions, for no good reason other than they tell you what you want to hear,” French seethed. “You come home after work, put on Fox News, and leave it on until you go to bed. You trust Fox News—despite the Seth Rich conspiracy theory, the election bullcrap, all the revisionist history on January 6. You sit there for hours, listening to this garbage, rotting your soul. And then you turn around and say, ‘Why would I trust the New York Times?’ Really? Why would you trust Tucker Carlson?

riots began occurring in the cities of one million or more people. It was started by people, backed by Evans, who claimed the rich and powerful financed Governor Massey’s win, and that the election results were all falsified by a vast right-wing conspiracy of power brokers. Some groups swarmed the various state capitol buildings and began to trash them, breaking statues, destroying offices, and even beating up some of the legislators and their staff. In other locations, cops attempted to stop the rioters, only to be accused of police brutality. Unionized workers brought production to a halt at factories, while others blocked a few ports to keep anything from coming in or going out. Evans was pleased with how everything was turning out so far.

These developments were not due to a conspiracy among the rich nor simply to colonialism (although it played a role). They were the result of one of the fundamental principles of economics – comparative advantage.

Robin Hood. Robbing from the rich and giving to the poor.

It's time the world knew what was really discovered at Delphi." says Dr Moses Frank, in The Elena Text. But who is Moses Frank and what was he referring to? The Elena Text is a controversial and provocative thriller set in the world of antiquities and archaeology, based around the untold story of what was really discovered at Delphi in Greece - but has remained a closely-guarded secret since the 1930s. In Moses Frank we have a character who single-handedly defines the extremities of recent times, the stateless survivor, against all the odds, the refugee turned millionaire, the entrepreneur who creates his own rules, a charming and educated artist with a first class degree from the university of life, a thinker but an unashamed money-maker and pleasure-seeker. Moses Frank is a man who can be forgiven almost anything because he is so hugely admired as a dealer, a canny sleuth who has tracked down the world’s greatest missing antiquities. But despite all his gifts and talents, Moses Frank is also a man bristling with self-doubt - searching endlessly for the finest examples of human art, the sensual peaks of female beauty and some thin slivers of meaning in his terribly successful life. I believe Frank is a rich, unpredictable and multi-facetted lead character who will continue to fascinate readers in volumes 2 and 3 of THE MOSES FRANK TRILOGY.

The possibility of knowledge is relevant to Dallas’s account of the spiritual life. The point of his books The Spirit of the Disciplines, The Divine Conspiracy and Renovation of the Heart is that we must adopt specific practices in order to deepen our apprehension of God’s activity in the world. If we fail to sharpen our perception of the great spiritual truths as revealed in the life of Christ, God’s kingdom, in all its life-transforming richness and power, will simply pass us by. Again, you see it happen every day.

First, God's sovereignty over the death of Christ does not mitigate the guilt of the human conspirators. On the other hand, the malice of their conspiracy has not caught God flat-footed, as if he had not foreseen the cross, much less planned it. The text plainly insists that God's sovereignty is not mitigated by human actions, and human guilt is not exculpated by appeal to divine sovereignty. This duality is sometimes called compatibilism: God's utter sovereignty and human moral responsibility are compatible.

Let all political pursuits that neglect the poor and make the rich richer be dealt with. Lord, let the spirit of wisdom rest on the White House and Capitol. Protect our president and his family from sabotage, lies, conspiracies, terrorist attacks, enemy infiltrations, and assassination. Put Your angels around the first lady and the children. Let their personal affairs be covered by the blood of Jesus.

Gradually, as Nero's excesses grew more unbridled, Seneca fell increasingly out of favour. At length he was accused, justly or unjustly, of complicity in a widespread conspiracy to murder Nero and place a new emperor—some said, Seneca himself—upon the throne. In view of his former services, he was graciously permitted to commit suicide (A.D. 65). His end was edifying. At first, on being informed of the Emperor's decision, he set about making a will. When told that there was no time allowed for such a lengthy business, he turned to his sorrowing family and said: 'Never mind, I leave you what is of far more value than earthly riches, the example of a virtuous life'—or

A youth of such promise, especially if his body be on a par with his mind, will be at once foremost among all his fellows. His relatives and fellow-citizens, eager to make use of him for their own purposes, and anxious to appropriate to themselves his growing force, will besiege him betimes with solicitations and flatteries. Under these influences, if we assume him to be rich, well born, and in a powerful city, he will naturally become intoxicated with unlimited hopes and ambition; fancying himself competent to manage the affairs of all governments, and giving himself the empty airs of a lofty potentate. If there be any one to give him a quiet hint that he has not yet acquired intelligence, nor can acquire it without labour — he will turn a deaf ear. But suppose that such advice should by chance prevail, in one out of many cases, so that the youth alters his tendencies and devotes himself to philosophy — what will be the conduct of those who see, that they will thereby be deprived of his usefulness and party-service, towards their own views? They will leave no means untried to prevent him from following the advice, and even to ruin the adviser, by private conspiracy and judicial prosecution.

She bit down on another slice of pound cake, her appetite for rich, buttery solace even greater when faced with intractable dilemmas.

On the morning of June 17, 1982, the body of an Italian banker was found hanging from scaffolding under Blackfriars Bridge in London, his pockets stuffed with thousands of dollars in foreign banknotes, and he was weighed down with bricks from a nearby building site. Roberto Calvi had, until the day before, been the chairman of Banco Ambrosiano, an institution with a rich history founded in 1896 by a priest in Milan with a vision for providing credit to the local community in a way that was in keeping with Catholic teachings. It was also a bank mired in scandal, after the discovery that Calvi had authorized hundreds of millions of dollars to be secreted out of the company to a network of shell companies registered in Panama and Liechtenstein.

When the Trump wing of the conservative media isn’t simply inventing something out of nothing—the murder “conspiracy” of the DNC staffer Seth Rich is a perfect example—it loves to take one bit of truth and abuse it into a much larger lie.

Backlash theorists, as we shall see, imagine countless conspiracies in which the wealthy, powerful, and well connected—the liberal media, the atheistic scientists, the obnoxious eastern elite—pull the strings and make the puppets dance. And yet the backlash itself has been a political trap so devastating to the interests of Middle America that even the most diabolical of stringpullers would have had trouble dreaming it up. Here, after all, is a rebellion against “the establishment” that has wound up cutting the tax on inherited estates. Here is a movement whose response to the power structure is to make the rich even richer; whose answer to the inexorable degradation of working-class life is to lash out angrily at labor unions and liberal workplace-safety programs; whose solution to the rise of ignorance in America is to pull the rug out from under public education.

We want our people in America whose parents or grandparents were descendants from slaves, to be allowed to establish a separate state or territory of their own…either on this continent or elsewhere. We believe that our former slave masters are obliged to provide such land and that the area must be fertile and minerally rich. We believe that our former slave masters are obligated to maintain and supply our needs in this separate territory for the next 20 to 25 years…until we are able to produce our own needs. Since we cannot get along with them in peace and equality,

What is it that is hidden behind the Yankees' hate of the Cuban Revolution? What is it that rationally explains the conspiracy, uniting for the same aggressive purpose the most powerful and rich imperialist power in the contemporary world and the oligarchies of an entire continent, which together are supposed to represent a population of 350 million human beings, against a small country of only seven million inhabitants, economically underdeveloped, without financial or military means to threaten the security or economy of any other country? What unites them and stirs them up is fear. What explains it is fear. Not fear of the Cuban Revolution but fear of the Latin American revolution.

Shortly before his death in July 2009, Cronkite was asked if there was a ruling class in America. “I am afraid there is,” he replied. “I don’t think it serves the democracy well, but that is true, I think there is. The ruling class is the rich who really command our industry, our commerce, our finance. And those people are able to so manipulate our democracy that they really control the democracy, I feel.

With a pair of scissors in my pocket, a bottle of rum in my hand, and Martina, we walked towards Plaza Trippy to go to the alley behind it called Carrer de la Rosa. Martina didn't know what this was all about; I tried to make it a surprise. At the gate, I asked Martina to hold the scissors until I climbed up the wall of the building and cut off the sign. I never had the chance to tell her that I used to do indoor climbing. Just like Adam. It was so dusty and rusty, abandoned and old, that I got dirty. The sign was quite new, or at least it looked new, but it was dustier than I had thought - it must have been up there for years. I cut the zip ties on the four corners, holding the sign to the old metal railings and then I jumped down from the wall to jump into Martina's arms in the tight alley. We were laughing. We went up and left, and up and right a few blocks until we crossed Ferran Street, I think, and finally, I thought we were safe: let's take a picture of the sign and get rid of it. I didn’t want anyone to see us in front of the place or on the busy Carrer Escudellers taking a picture of the 'For Sale' sign. Only Martina knew that we were going to have a club and that it would be right there. I gave my iPhone to Martina to take a picture of me holding the sign. I was so happy. I had my new girlfriend, suddenly from the sky, and she seemed to be “The One”. Celestial. I was wearing my beige suede Adidas shoes with white sole which Sabrina had surprised me with a year earlier on my birthday, my dark green Globe pants, and my black Breach jacket, a black hoodie, smiling ear to ear while holding a dirty sign in front of a store's closed metal shutter decorated with graffiti. After throwing out the sign in the trash can with Martina, I sent Adam the picture. He replied late at night: „:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD” Finally, it took a year to make Adam happy, even though Sabrina wouldn't let me make her happy. I got the place to make 'Aso Golan', the only place it could ever take place; to be one of the largest coffeeshops in Barcelona. I knew it would take another year to quickly fix up the place and pass the inspection before we could open it. I knew that in few years, we would be rich, looking back to the day I made my first order at the Sagrada Familia. Or the night we took off the FOR SALE sign with Martina.

I was standing by the car when two police officers showed up in the alley, very interested in me and the BMW in an alley where car traffic was not allowed at all, sitting there with a Belgian plate tag in the middle of the coffeeshop district, with me, the Hungarian guy, leaning to it smoking a cigarette, obviously waiting for something to happen. They began to examine my IDs and started searching the car. They were looking for drugs, apparently. I had been dealing with them for a few minutes when Adam showed up at the end of the alley. I was the only one looking that way, seeing Adam walking to turn into the alley; the two officers were too busy to notice what I had witnessed. The moment Adam looked up and noticed the officers around me, the moment he was about to turn right towards us into the alley, he made a 180-degree turn, the way a bad kid would do when playing hide and seek. Catching his steps the way Mr. Bean or Benny Hill would do—I could almost hear the music too—was both very funny and very concerning. He was too stupid to be a criminal; he was such a lame criminal that he didn't even think of walking past the alley's entrance like nothing happened instead of turning around and acting so suspiciously and obviously being in the wrong. I began to wonder how the coffeeshop business would work out with this guy if he was suddenly on cocaine all the time before we even opened the club? How would not he get me in trouble when there would be kilograms of marijuana and tons of cash flying around? How could I ever quit this job even if we could manage to run the place and get rich over the next 2-3 years? How would I ever get rid of this embarrassing, childish, dangerously silly criminal guy? By some miracle, in the car—which was used by these junkies and was usually full of smoking accessories—the cops didn't find a cigarette paper either, although they were very, very thorough. Belgian BMW wagon with a Hungarian guy, in an alley in the area full of marijuana clubs. They were sure they had me now, that they would be rewarded for such a catch. But there was nothing in the car. I was able to show them Rachel's Belgian registration and everything, explaining that she was my girlfriend who was in Belgium at that time and we were both working for a company selling smoking accessories; I gave them my business card. I apologized for parking there and even driving into that alley with the car. They fined me regardless. Before we started dealing with the marijuana behalf my name, we were collecting fines attributed to Adam on my name. Talk about being cheap. Apparently, he had started growing a lot of marijuana without my knowledge in a place he did not want me to find out about. As I was driving back to Urgell, we were both very silent. I was calm but he was anxious and I could almost hear the gears spinning in his mind. Perhaps at the same moment, we both realized that if I got arrested for any reason and ended up in jail, Adam could keep the 33% profit of the coffeeshop which I had signed up for and which belonged to me. ‘Thinking quickly. Acting quicker.’ Never quick enough. The sneaker. Adam was usually very slow, whether he was high or low.

It seemed as if doggystyle was her favorite position because she couldn't see who was behind her. She kept playing Snoop Dogg's song, “What's My Name?”. It seemed as if she was referring to my signature being forged and still being on the club and she knew perfectly. As if she was referring to all the dogs eager to breed in the video running after something after someone had let them out. As Snoop Dogg is magically transforming into a Doberman dog in the music video, just like the kind of dogs the Nazis had. I just realize Martina’s dog, Chicha was all black and her cat Anouki was all black too, just like the night Sky, just like the dark, empty, cold Space. The total darkness the canvas, on which our planet is just a pinhead. This rock. This sizzling rock. Spinning. Turning. Leaning. Following the Sun. Lost in the infinite nothingness. Ain’t like a balloon which has nothing inside. All the nothing is outside, all the cold and dark and wide and empty and vile. All the dark forces all the nights, all the known universe and beyond, is located here, inside. Iron comes from Outer Space, it is not a local material on this planet. Each one of us has iron inside a “kickstart-molecule” located in our hearts. Without iron, there would be no life. Are we locals on this planet? To what degree? Since when? I noticed three members of the Camorra in our street and the street parallel to it, casually passing by. I even nodded to one or two of them, since we already knew each other from the club where I hadn't been since Adam and I had our disagreement. Later that night, while I was waiting for Martina in vain, I noticed two to three of the Camorra's soldiers living a few houses down our street. From the rooftop, and our bedroom that was higher than theirs, I could see into their living room. I couldn't help but wonder whether this was a mere coincidence, or if Adam and Martina had found our new home together, hanging out in Nico’s store, and so we moved on the Mountain of Jews, on purpose, perhaps, knowing that the Camorra’s men were living almost right in front of us. No accidents. When I told Martina about the Camorra’s guys living across the street, Martina couldn’t have cared less. It was almost as if she never considered her life being in danger in Barcelona, Europe, but only mine. I had felt before like Adam had used my skin to make money, while I was the one walking around the streets, spotting tourists usually having fun, not thinking about how I was working hard to make their “unreachable” happiness come true. This time, however, I felt both stuck in our home, feeling helpless to make Martina happy and the outside world offered her much better chances to have fun and find a rich guy or any other smoker club manager with her beauty.

It was uncertain how seriously the police would take the situation, or if I could expect much defence from the law in Spain, where my lawyer had already betrayed me for some reason due to the same coffeeshop, rather working with the mafia. Amina and Nico might have been involved with the Camorra next door, however, their affiliation was uncertain even after multiple attempts to connect their names further. I had notes back home on the table connecting the criminals and their hubs. I was writing to uncover what I knew happened. To discover what I knew. Perhaps it was a mistake to withhold any information from those two officers regarding the coffeeshop. It's possible that I should have informed them that Ruan was working for individuals who intended to use my identity to operate one of the largest, if not the largest, coffeeshops in town. The club was located in the Port of Ciutat Vella, where the Camorra had seemingly established a monopoly since 2014. I was still unsure if Adam, Sabrina, Nico, Amina, and the others had already made a deal with them or not. Yet. She had keys to my home and I had been unable to sleep for weeks already. She had my IDs. I was unsure and concerned as to why she would take them, what was her purpose? If I died somehow and I had no documents, it would be a longer process to identify me. That means more time to sell marijuana behalf my name and get rich. How can one identify a body without any IDs or with missing fingerprints? By examining dental records. Who was the individual inside the circle? The circle within the circle? The Eye within the Eye? The focal point of the wheelcart? With all the spikes pointing towards it. Who was the fictitious Robin Hood, the Boss of their nasty and drug-addicted mafia?

One of those days we were in Maria Vostra getting weed; while we were sitting at the bar during some festive day—I think it was Three Kings' arrival in January—Marco, the 30 some years old Argentine founding member of that club and probably the kindest of the three, received a phone call from Buenos Aires. I didn't understand it much, nor did I pay too much attention, but the tall Marco, who was usually in a great mood, suddenly ran out of the bar crying after one or two minutes. Martina told me she heard him speaking in Rioplatense on the phone. Marco's best friend had been shot dead in broad daylight in Buenos Aires at the same time; in front of her seven-year-old daughter. He had been shot five times in the chest because a thief had tried to steal his scooter and he had tried to stop them; they then shot him dead and took off with his scooter. We were shocked, at least Marco and I while I tried to hide it - but Martina, who was only 20, wasn't. “That's how poor people are in Argentina, Tomas,” she said, pointing to her lips with her pinky as if it was a known secret. She wasn't fazed by death. I failed to realize what that meant. She must have seen people die before we met. Perhaps I was blindfolded because I had been with Sabrina, whom I knew had something to do with Timothy's death and had gotten away with it, leaving Canada - I was unsure as to when she left exactly, and why - and why she was really unable to visit little Joel in Canada. I was also aware that Adam had not been to Israel for over 10 years, probably because he had murdered someone or done something similar when he was younger. Perhaps I had become too accustomed to the presence of bad people; perhaps they had all become too familiar to me after all, two years after I had first met Sabrina, one year after I had first met Adam, and living in Barcelona for one and a half years at that time. “A scooter worth 200-300 Euros is such a great value there, imagine Tomas. It's so dangerous and poor country” she said. A few times in Urgell, Martina made a joyful noise of 'Oyyy', but she stopped because I laughed and she never said it again, no matter how much I asked her to. Perhaps the presence of the Polish workers at the other end of the place had something to do with it. Gucho and Damian spent time with us in the kitchen-living room area every night. We ate, we smoked, and we had a great time together. They were skilled at smoking out of a bowl to get the most from the least weed. I registered Martina at Club Marley, so if she was in the center and needed weed, she wouldn't have to go all the way up to Maria Vostra, a block from Urgell. Club Marley was mostly run by Argentine people, so I thought she would like them too. One of those nights I was sitting in Club Marley at a table with Martina. When she went to the bathroom, an elder dispensary budtender I knew, who I met daily, told me that he didn't want to be rude, but: “Be very, very careful with this girl, Tomas. With Latinas, there is love sweeter than honey and all you ever dreamed of, but it only lasts as long as you are successful as you are right now, as long as you’re the manager.” I said “thank you” and I meant it, but I had no time to reflect on it because he had to go. Martina was suddenly in my mind and by my side again: in love. I thought, “Yes, the guy may be right, but I trust Martina and have no reason not to.” I knew I was broke and I knew that Martina knew that too. Even though I was a manager and seemed successful to my customers, it did not make me rich yet nor was it the reason to make Martina want to be with me. I believe he must have caught sight of her looking at me or at another man when I wasn't paying attention. To me, she was one of a kind. I trusted her deeply and even told her about the guy's warning regarding Latinas. She showed no reaction. I didn't notice or pay attention to the fact that Martina never set foot in Club Marley again.

I am a “conspiracy theorist.” I believe men and women of wealth and power conspire. If you don’t think so, then you are what is called “an idiot.” If you believe stuff but fear the label, you are what is called “a coward.

I WANT TO BELONG TO THE RICH AND WEALTHY OCCULT SOCIETY ONLINE TO BE RICH INSTANTLY IF EVERY WERE I GO+2349015816099 I want to join occult of red demon temple online DO YOU WANT TO JOIN OCCULT TO BE AMONG THE RICHEST MEN IN THE WORD. THE RED DEMON BROTHERHOOD BASE ON ANIMAL SACRIFICE AND NO HUMAN BLOOD IS INVOLVE, JOIN US TODAY AND BE WEALTHY AND FAMOUS AND SHAKE HANDS WITH OUR LORD LUCIFER THE GODS OF WEALTH AND RICHES. FOR MORE INFORMATION AND EQUIRIES CALL +2349015816099 OR EMAIL US AT : reddemonbrotherhood55@gmail.com OUR MAIN AIM AND MISSION IS TO HELP ALL AFRICAN YOUTHS TO LIVE THE LIVES OF THEIR DREAMS.JOIN OUR OCCULT FOR WEALTH/MONEY, FAME, POWER, PROTECTION,INSTANT RICH CALL +2349015816099. If you’ve had a hard life up until now– here is the opportunity to change it all. By simply allowing red demon Brotherhood to reshape your life, your dreams will indeed come true. Won’t you allow yourself to finally relax, enjoy life and leave the work to us? Don’t pass up the greatest opportunity you may ever be offered! red demon Brotherhood is a club or organization whose activities and inner functioning are concealed from non-members.Peoples demon Brotherhood is organized conspiracies working in secret to achieve a hidden agenda. Members use secrecy to protect themselves and their movement. Critics view as malevolent organizations working against the general will of mankind. ‘ Members may be required to conceal or deny their membership, and they are often sworn to hold the Peoples club secrets by an oath. Violating the oath may result in the application of severe sanctions. Like the most successful forgeries, the most effective Brotherhood are unknown beyond their adherents. we are not suppose to be on the internet but because of this comments: ‘i want to join occult in nigeria’ ‘i want to join real occult in ghana’ ‘i want to join occult in africa to be rich’ ‘i want to join good occult fraternity in nigeria’ ‘i want to join great red demon in nigeria to be rich’ ‘i want to join red demon occult in nigeria/africa’ ‘i want to join red demon brotherhood in nigeria’ we are now here for you.

The new recruits, in process of time, began to join in an encounter without fear; they saw that such as fled were taken prisoners or slain; that the bravest were the safest; that liberty, their country, and parents, are defended, and glory and riches acquired, by arms. Thus the new and old troops soon became as one body, and the courage of all was rendered equal.

But all the evils of society do not spring from the discontents and the vices of the poor. The rich come in for a large and a conspicuous share. They frequently abuse their advantages. Pride and haughty behaviour on their part rankle in the breasts, and affect the tempers of their inferiors, already fretted by the hardships of their own condition. The rich also are luxurious; and are often needy. Grasping at every mean of gratification, they are inattentive to the rights of inferiors whom they despise, and, despising, oppress. Perhaps their own superiority has been acquired by injustice. Perhaps most sovereignties have been acquired by oppression. Princes and Rulers are but men; as such, they abuse many of their greatest blessings.

Rich, but not Trump-rich.

Yes, the Illuminati have always sought a New World Order. Humanity cries out for it. Isn’t it time to abolish the old, failed ways that have enslaved so many billions? The Illuminati have incurred the enmity of all those who prosper from the Old World Order: the rich, privileged elites, the religious leaders who deceive their flocks (of sheep), and the paranoid, ill educated idiots (all the brainwashed anti-New World Order conspiracy theory nuts who don’t see that the New World Order is their only hope of liberation).

There is an old joke about a country lawyer who, when he was hired to defend a man accused of killing a family of four and their dog, produces a dog and denies everything. When the Trump wing of the conservative media isn’t simply inventing something out of nothing—the murder “conspiracy” of the DNC staffer Seth Rich is a perfect example—it loves to take one bit of truth and abuse it into a much larger lie. Some of this is merely silly and falls into the category of life imitating high school. But some has profound impact on domestic and foreign policy. When the Mueller Report was complete and did not find grounds sufficient to bring a charge of criminal conspiracy against the Trump campaign, it became for Trump “complete and total exoneration,” and he immediately renewed his demand for an investigation into the “conspiracy” against him. Conspiracies are dominant realities in the world Trump and his followers inhabit.

This is where conspiracy theories come in handy. It’s not just that vaccines cause autism; it’s that the medical and pharmaceutical industries are getting rich by destroying everyone’s families. It’s not just that pro-choicers have a different view on the biological status of a fetus; it’s that they’re soldiers sent by Satan to destroy good Christian families. It’s not just that climate change is a hoax; it’s that it’s a hoax created by the Chinese government to slow the U.S. economy and take over the world.37

Ever since I was a kid, my family had been telling paranoid stories of far-flung conspiracies, chief among them that a shadowy cabal had rigged the economic system and intentionally shortchanged my people, the working poor. They believed in smoke-filled rooms where the world’s rich and powerful met to conspire against them. To defend themselves, they bought overwhelming arsenals of guns and maintained veritable armories in their houses and garages in preparation for a long-rumored invasion of the United States by the combined forces of the New World Order and the United Nations. They horded supplies and prepped for the fall of America, a dystopic horror companies advertising gas masks and rations and gold coins were too happy to use to peddle their wares. Because of this irrational fear, many of my relatives and people like them were vulnerable to the manipulations of white supremacists. The election of Obama and the propagation of progressivism, including a vigorous fight for multiculturalism and equal rights, was seen as a scourge that threatened to undermine “traditional” American values.

Trump was about to move into the most fringe-infested area of American politics, which strangely enough unites the far-left and far-right ends of the political spectrum. In this case, the conspiracy theory that 9/11 was an inside job and that George W. Bush—Jeb’s brother—was somehow responsible for it. Just like birtherism, this was a subject plenty of people on the right and the left obsessed over. The territory was rich, should someone have the nerve to take ownership of it. Trump did.

Are you private, or are you in fact working for Scotland Yard?” “Neither. I am a social investigator.” “I see,” I said, though to be frank, I didn’t. “I don’t suppose that pays very well.” “Nothing at all, actually, but it’s very important. That’s why I am working in the East End. I wish to know why the greatest empire in history cannot feed, clothe, or shelter many of its people. I wonder why the mistakes and attitudes of one generation are doomed to be repeated in the next and why the arrival of a people with a rich and ancient culture such as the Jews inspires fear and loathing among an otherwise sensible people.

...Lance is the inevitable product of our celebrity-worshipping culture and the whole money-mad world of sports gone amok. This is the Golden Age of fraud, an era of general willingness to ignore and justify the wrongdoings of the rich and powerful, which makes every lie bigger and widens its destructive path.

On the other hand, the malice of their conspiracy has not caught God flat-footed, as if he had not foreseen the cross, much less planned it. The text plainly insists that God's sovereignty is not mitigated by human actions, and human guilt is not exculpated by appeal to divine sovereignty. This duality is sometimes called compatibilism: God's utter sovereignty and human moral responsibility are compatible. Complex issues are involved, but there can be no serious doubt that this stance is either taught or presupposed by the biblical writers