“Editorial: Todays Barbarianism To Civility Ratio ” (A Prose Poem)

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmith@gmail.com

1.

An national economy should have a ratio of ‘Barbarism to Civility’ –

    Yes the “B.T.C” should be quoted in the same revered terms that “G.D.P” is.

    A high ‘B.T.C ratio’ should be of great embarrassment to a nation.

    In fact – far more so than a ‘Low G.D.P’ is.

    For we can all agree that it is better to be poor but gracious,

    Than a marauding, unthinking brute.

    One day I hope to sit down at a cafe with newspaper in hand,

    With the big front page headline booming:

    “Barbarianism To Civility Ratio Crashes 27.7% : Spontaneous celebrations fill the streets everywhere!”

    & when we open the next day’s paper perhaps we may see this updated report:

    “Unfortunately due to the previous days ongoing unbridled celebrations that then turned into a melee –

    There was caused a near instantaneous boom in the Barbarism to Civility ratio,

    Resulting in a sudden reversal of fortunes,

    Thus wiping out yesterdays very happy losses.”

    2.

    Shakespeare in Titus wrote the line

    “Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous”.

    But yet he knew & we all know how barbarous the Romans were.

    And since we are merely a scattered smoking remnant of the Roman Empire

    Do we not today still deceive ourselves in exactly the same way?

    We are indeed a well shaken cocktail of Barbarism & Civility.

    3.

    But let us step towards the silver linings, away from our clouded & foggy minds.

    Let’s give a Roman ‘Ave’ to the advent of the ‘Barbarism to Civility Ratio’, printed daily.

    Sure I know it wont work, but as a late era Roman I have a love of empty platitudes,

    Bold face lies, & abject pigheadedness,

    & getting blindly drunk on highly-dubious-philosophic-alcoholic-elixirs.

    It is the merely the Late-Era Roman way.

    Special Philosophical Post……’Our Mental Life’

    by Anton martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

    Sometimes I like to write essays or articles – usually they just pop into existence like a quantum particle. They arrive when they arrive. Because they are often ‘long winded’ vs ‘artistic’, I coral them all on another site – which has very little following (requires too much mental attention you see).

    Below is the opening few lines & a link to the whole article – should you be interested in Philosophical musings…….

    There’s a saying about when you level up your biggest enemy/s comes from a person in your inner circle, and you biggest champion comes from a complete stranger.

    It’s a very interesting little saying…….

    Read The rest of this post by clicking link below:

    “London 2038 – The London, The P.M., & The P.A. Episode 2” (A story – Work in. Prog)

    (episode 2 – to read episode 1 click here https://antonmartinsmith.com/2025/06/12/london-2038-the-london-the-mayor-the-p-a-a-story-work-in-prog/

    To say that Harrison Arnold Twotimer had a lot of personal problems was like saying that the universe had ‘quite a lot’ of stars. Harrison was the oldest of three siblings, & as such had followed the tradition of so many firstborns who are overly motivated to plunge themselves into leadership roles. Harrison’s first power grab was at Eton where his diplomat absentee father had managed to arrange him to attend a full year earlier than usual at age 12. Harrison knew what his father was up too – & like the millions of other aging ex ‘boarding school syndrome sufferers’ – he never quite forgave his parents, & his father in particular, for abandoning him so easily & swiftly like that.

    Harrison had shown his true political & social climbing asperations colors early in life. This would naturally be noticed firstly in his schooldays. At Eton Harrison had put his name forward on the first day of school to be the ‘Class PM’ against a far more talented boy named Paul Pritch-Simmons III, who would later become a billionaire computer-chip making industrialist. The election was held after each boy made a spirited ten-minute stump speech to his fellow Etonians.

    Where Paul had talked of the need for England to be more forthright as a nation again, & return to its manufacturing base, Harrison had argued that the price of sweets had trebled in the last three years, that & this was a travesty. Where Paul had astutely said that ‘under-unemployment in the Etonian region was a ‘festering problem which may result in less professionals in a decade’s time’, Harrison had said incorrectly that ‘Eton must do more to reverse the decline in mathematics scores – when grades had indeed improved significantly due to the targeted hiring more seasoned international STEM (Science, Tech, Engineering, Mathematics) subject teachers. Where Master Pritch-Simmons III had mentioned the need to look after the handful of homeless people who had been seen wandering around the outskirts of Eton, Harrison had retorted furiously “why should we spend our hard-earned fathers’ dollars on those stinky lazy sods”. Harrison was so unpopular with his classmates that the last minute of his speech had to be scuttled due to the boys throwing their pencils at Harrison, while they bellowed repeatedly “Out with Harrison up with Pritch-Simons”.

    On the face of it from the view of his voter classmates, Harrison was in this election as they say ‘Toast’. Given Harrison’s poor rambling & speech, full of flagrant inaccuracies relative to his more polished opponent in Master Pritch-Simmons III, that’s what they would expect – but then they didn’t know of the ‘Yellowpoke situation’ yet.

    The old maxim of ‘it doesn’t matter who casts the votes – all that matters is who counts them’ later became one that the future adult Harrisons mentioned in passing, & for good reason. This ‘first ever political election’ deserved to be Harrisons first ignoble defeat to a far more able adversary – but this was where Harrison’s at worst abhorrent sneakiness, or at best his Machiavellian guile came in.

    Harrison as PM nowadays, uses ‘The bribe’ liberally wherever he goes & can easily get away with it. He learnt the value of a ‘well placed bribe’ from that from that first election as a sticky fingered grimacing fat little schoolboy.

    Before he had came to school that first election day, he had been wise enough to steal a fifty pound note from a tin his mother had put all her countless “loose cash”. Had had the presence of mind in the prior week to his first day at school to call the Etonian secretary & asked “who would be counting the “Class PM” votes next week miss, as I plan to put my hat into the ring”. He had found out duly that it would be the schoolteacher that would collate, count & return the verdict. Armed with this information as soon as Harrison had entered his classroom with all his fellow classmates, he had made a bee line for the teacher – Mr Yellowpoke. his conversation went like this

    “Ah Mr Yellowpoke – Harrison Arnold Twotimer here”. He thrust out his half sticky lolly-fingers to shake Mr Yellowpoke’s hand. With Harrison being particular short foe his age & Mr Yellowpoke a towering six-foot four, he had to practically hold his hand-shake hand vertical – it looked quite ridiculous. My Yellowpoke played along & agreed to shake his hand, & did so firmly, but also partly haltingly.

    “I’m Mr Yellowpoke, nice to meet you lad – I believe your father Edward is a diplomat currently in Brussels?”

    Harrison replied without pause.

    “Yes father is currently in Brussels, I believe right now he is actually fittingly trying to increase our exports of Brussel sprouts to the EU!”

    Mr Yellowpoke laughed, well it was more of a chortle. Harrison had many flaws as a child, & even more as an adult – but not having a sense of humor was not one of them. He continued his plan with Mr Yellopoke.

    “Now Mr Yellowpoke, I won’t hold you up – I just wanted to say that I’m glad to be here in your classroom, & at Eton – & I advise I will be putting my name forward for Class PM”. He said all this with a natural sense confidence, this was his other main feather in his cap – unwarranted, unshakable, confidence. Mr Yellowpoke re-plied dryly, as his patience was now wearing thin.

    “Oh well that will happen this afternoon – I’ll write you name down then – you’ll need to make a speech at the end of the day to your classmates – good luck & now you better take a seat with the rest of the class – we have a lot to go over this morning”.

    “Oh yes of course thankyou Mr Yellowpoke, but there’s one more thing” Harrison sounding like a teacher himself.

    “Oh yes – what’s that Twotimer?”

    “Well my father just wanted to pass on this $50 dollar note – he said to me that the teachers & their partners were known to have a ‘first week party’ & he wanted to shout you & your wife a drink”. Harrison had the 50 pound note folded in a small square in his hand – which he proffered up to Mr Yellowpoke under the guise of a “goodbye handshake” – something he’d seen done on old American films & was copying. Mr Yellowpoke suddenly blanched, this made him nervous, which then made him make the unwise decision to accept Harrison’s handshake & the 50 pound bribe. Mr Yellowpoke spoke twice as quickly as usual, wanting the conversation over.

    “Good luck this afternoon Harrison – make your speech a good one & I’ll count the votes afterwards – say hello to your father or me”.

    “Yes sir Mr Yellowpoke – and thanks a lot” A giant triumphant ear-to-ear child’s grin filled his face – a look he would never grow out of. He still had the exact same ‘child’s big grin look’ decades later, even now as the real PM of England.

    Later with both master Harrison’s & Master Paul’s speeches over, Mr Yellowpoke came out from the teachers back room to the class again. With the small wooden ballot box still locked & held firmly between his lowered two hands he slowly announced the fateful words

    “The winner of Class PM – by a landslide I might add – is Harrison Arnold Twotimer”

    Master Pritch-Simmons III’s looked visibly ill, as did his fellow broadsided & ashen faced classmates. they sat like they’d been turned into stone, not saying a word. Until of course Mr Yellowpoke urged them to clap for Harrison, which they did in miserable fashion, with Master Pritch-Simmons aborting the clap simply maintaining his silent head down vigil.

    Becoming “Eton Class PM” was Harrison’s first of many ‘shonky’ political victories to come. He sat beaming like a lighthouse, caring not a jot for the claw claps & muted jeers of the voters. Incidentally this ‘seemingly meaningless’ stolen schoolboys election wouldn’t be the first run in with Pritch-Simmons either. ‘The Billionaire & the PM’ as the tabloids now billed the adversaries as became sworn enemies after that first vote & are still at war as we speak – with the only slightly more honorable Pritch-Simmons’s victories still few & far between.

    And I know you want to know – what of Mr Yellowpoke? He left teaching at age 55 when he was outed by a student kissing the 21-year old student teacher Ms Artichoke on the schoolgrounds. Being a very married man, with his wife working at the school office it was best for all concerned. After the divorce his wife initiated, he finally entered a profession he was better suited to – real estate sales. (Now lets get back to the main characters).

    Now it goes without saying that Arthur B. Pertwee was cut from a very different cloth than Harrrison Arnold Twotimer – but It’s worth saying it again:

    Arthur B. Pertwee was cut from a very different cloth than Harrrison Arnold Twotimer. . .

    (End of Episode 2…..be here again soon for Episode 3……)

    This article is owned by Martin Smith Creations ltd (NZ).

    If you are a person or a small non-profit please read or reproduce freely.

    Commercial Users or NGO’s: If you want to purchase for reprint of this work for a commercial project to reach a wider audience – then contact me via martinantonsmith@gmail.com to gain written legal permission.

    “Yes! We Have No Bananas” ( A thought/Prose)

    by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

    The only truly good thing about ‘big time sports’ is the crowd hubbub – for crowd hubbub is a human kind of birdsong.

    It is beautiful in its brutality.

    The athleticism of the athletes is of second order rank, the contest itself an even more distant third rank.

    The score of the game is totally irrelevant, but the outcome isn’t. The score is something like 34-12, but the outcome is not at all the score.

    The outcome is one man turning to another & saying –

    “Hey Joe what a great game!, it made me forget how me, you & all our kind are modern age forever slave-serfs”.

    That casual epitet of the everyman is the true outcome of a ‘big time’ sports event.

    Centrally planned contrived escapism for the slave serf so to delay a People’s Revolution.

    And it’s worked a treat since the coliseum days, which incidentally never actually ended.

    Yes, “The Truth About Us” is depressing, but from Truth does enlightenment flow.

    All good philosophers intuitively know this.

    All bad politician-authoritarians do as well.

    And that we know the truth – our pathway to enlightenment – that ain’t a bad thing at all, at all.

    The ‘ignorance is bliss thesis’ is just slave-master propaganda.

    So let us enjoy the sports match, but also kick the politician-authoritarian up the arse now & then.

    Becasue our serf-slavery won’t end anytime soon,

    That is self evident to anyone who reads History.

    The point of our enlightenment is this:

    Our slave-serf conditions have deteriorated far to much lately & we deserve better.

    Let us aim to kick politician-authoritarian arse regularly & non violently.

    Like John Lennon said “We’ll do it with humour”.

    For he’s right – humour is the only thing the Slave Master is really afraid of.

    In Closing:

    So Bra –

    lets Ha Ha Ha…

    to the La-de-dah.

    to get thrown a better…

    Ba-na-na

    “Are All My Fave Writers Just Chumps?( An Idea/Article/Prose)

    by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

    The best art that is thrown up by the system itself,

    And described as the best art by the system itself,

    Must be of the kind of art that lets out safely the pent up steam in the most discontented heads,

    Strongly so but also safely so out of all the true latent Revolutionarys’ minds,

    So as to the deflate the risk of a actual Revolution ever happening.

    This is a good definition of what is called controlled opposition.

    It is the most natural thing to see the following occur:

    A Revolutionary Writer or Artist agrees to castrate their ideas & themselves,

    Because this is how they can become noticed by the money payers – The Publishers, The Galleries – Society Folk.

    The former potential True Revolutionary sighs in giant relief as they grab the long awaited fat cheque.

    With cheque -in-hand the former potential Revolutionary knows they have been kept off the street – maybe for life.

    No question – It is indeed a big personal payoff.

    Of course the creative will keep deluding themselves or lying to others that they are still a potential Revolutionary.

    But this has been made impossible by the publishing deal now done & dusted.

    For to become known, to become lauded, to become finacially secure –

    At some key level the Revolutionary part has to be nixed, neutralised, nullified – signed away with.

    And with the artist’s signature now captured in bloody ink, the future Revolution is indefinitely delayed.

    The system has won, at least for now.

    For the old biblical quote is true:

    How can a house stand if it is divided against itself?

    The system cannot ever intentianlly promote True Revolutionaries.

    This is why by definition all our so called favourite Revolutionary Writers

    Orwell, Huxley, Bukowski, P.K. Dick etc etc

    Have all been co-opted by the system,

    & so used as a Societal-Anti Revolution-Pressure-Release-Device.

    These kinds of authers are all true geniuses & will have known this fact to be true.

    For them it’s a hard intellectual fact to swallow –

    But they wanted to be successful writers not True Revolutionaries.

    It’s not an easy fact for us fans to swallow either –

    We like to delude ourselves romantically that they were/are True Bona-fide Revoltionaries.

    It’s a kind of shared fantasy that us fans self-police amongst ourselves.

    Our mainstream success anti heroes are real dammit, if only more people read them the system would change! Let’s drink to the True Revolutionaries!

    I’m not telling anyone to stop reading Orwell, Huxley, Bukowski, P.K. Dick et al,

    I’m just busting the myth we all happily go along with –

    That they are indeed True Revolutionary Writers.

    In summary I contend that the adage The pen is mightier than the sword,

    Is actually there so the existing power structure stays in power, & is not overthrown.

    The True Revolutionary says the sword is mightier than the pen & would never say the reverse.

    And incidentily, all the worst (best?) Dictators all had an intuitive knowledge of this.

    Despite all their talent for storytelling & warnings Orwell, Huxley, Bukowski, P.K. Dick et al,

    Will first & foremost be Anti-Revolution pressure valves – & so also controlled opposition.

    Don’t worry – as a massive fan of them – I don’t want to believe it either!

    But this doesn’t stop it from being true.

    I’ll also keep reading them all with glee –

    despite the fact they are all Societal-Anti Revolution – Pressure-Release-Devices or controlled opposition.

    All this is why it’s so hard for anyone to be a True Revolutionary.

    You can’t just reach for the cheque.

    This article is owned by Martin Smith Creations ltd (NZ). If you are a person or a small non-profit please read or reproduce freely. Commercial Users or NGO’s: If you want to purchase for reprint of this work for a commercial project to reach a wider audience – then contact me via martinantonsmith@gmail.com to gain written legal permission.

    Special Post: “To the Denizens of the Very Big Cities of Earth” (An Open letter/Prose)

    by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

    Dear Denizens of the various ‘Very Big Cities’ of planet Earth,

    I would like to convey some home truths, not to taunt but to educate &, if i am lucky, put some wind beneath some weary & mottled wings.

    I shall get right into it.

    Living & working in A ‘Very Big City’ teaches you to embrace a culture of high consumption, materialism & disposability in your life & so also your relationships.

    The denizens of the Very Big City suffer from “slowly boiled alive frog syndrome”.

    The environment is so toxic yet so normalised, ever present, yet also invisible to the denizens’ hacked eyes.

    If you the ‘Very Big City denizen’ don’t recognise this, then you can’t combat the effect.

    This is also very profitable for the Corporations – & that’s no coincidence.

    The whole reason for a ‘Very Big City’ to exist – is to provide a good return on capital & return on labour employed to the Capitalist.

    If you are an employee in a Very Big City who has to go to work to survive – & that’s ninety percent of the population in these cities – & you don’t recognise the true reason a Very Big City exists, then you can’t ever save your soul – then so you will be miserable.

    It is as sure as an apple falling from a true under the Gravitational Force.

    There’s no avoiding it, even if you have a so called big salary.

    Big salary jobs were created by Capitalists of the ‘Very Big City’ to fool employees to selling their time & energy at a highly amplified rate.

    The trick played by the Big City Capitalists on the upwardly striving wage-slave is that they think that they can rise up the social ladder, slowly shed their misery on the way up, & be blinded to their in truth amplified wage-slave reality.

    As planned by the Capitalist Oligarchs of the Very Big City, the upwardly striving wage-slave never finds the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

    The trick works perfectly, as once the amplified wage-slave reaches the top, but is still not a bona-fide capitalist, they will do anything to hide their retained if not also amplified misery.

    If they let out the truth out of their retained & probably amplified misery, this now amplified wage-slave couldn’t handle the blow to their fragile egos.

    This is why so many so called ‘successful’ people in the ‘very big city’ do themselves in, & die by their own hands – they can’t handle the reality, the now mountainous level of pain & anguish, the swindle they let themselves be so easily fooled by.

    Big Cities are for Capitalists & people who aren’t Capitalists but aren’t so blind to not know it, & so keep a part of their soul for themselves. Everyone other than that has allowed their soul to be stolen by that ‘Very Big City’.

    Often it’s not there fault, that they allowed their soul to be stolen by the ‘Very Big City’ – some did recognise it, but all too late. When they realised they were actually digging a grave & not a life, they were too deep to escape it. From that point you either end it all or you go insane, & agree to keep doing the same thing expecting a different result. So they just kept digging their own graves.

    Others escape to the country late in life – but by then the damage is done, the quartz of dispair has become chrystalised. As they say you always take the weather with you. You must leave the Very Big City relatively early, before it is too late.

    The overarching reason why all the denzens of Very Big Cities of the world are almost all zombified, cognitive dissonance, Einsteinian version insane, learned helplessness type slowly boiled-alive frogs?

    Human beings tend get to comfortable with very uncomfortable conditions, so long as they are highly predictable.

    So the real antidote to becoming just another empty shelled garden variety victim of the ‘Very Big City’ is this:

    Know thy self, Know thy surroundings, know thy species.

    If you know that, preferably earlier than later in life, you will know thy can still escape the real-life Gotham Cities that are, just like the upwardly striving wage-slave, amplifying their misery throughout the world.

    Now pledge to never allow them to take all of your whole soul…ever!

    Good luck, you are worth it.

    P.S. To the few Capitalists & Companies of the V.B.C.’s who are on the side of good – keep battling & your commitment to your workers well-being as well as profits helps massively in the war…for is it not a war we are in – a war for a (wo)mans mind, time & energy?

    M.A.S 25/05/2025

    Hi there, it is me again…..

    I have written some more on the subject, of the same theme – so I will add it here:

    ….If you try to look for life amongst the dead, you will always end up 100% disappointed, for life cannot flourish in locations where death holds the reigns.

    This is why all of the “successful” people that the media dishes up to you are morbidly unhappy, & it shows on their faces. their sunken eyes with vibrancy that has disappeared many decades ago, they look twenty years older than they should.

    The modern economy is actually a Death Cult – people who worship death the most in this system are rewarded, or should I say thrown more crumbs by the grim reaper of the The Economy. They are given more paper promise money. But the currency & all its cultural trimmings – banality, lack of creativity, snobbishness etc is only fully valid & redeemable within the death camps – the Big Cities.

    Life can only flourish outside the death camps, in the villages & the country, where the death camp currency holds less sway, & life community, happiness, & health can dominate. True Evil must always not only hide this fact – it must reverse & invert it.

    So, the mouthpieces of death – The electronic screens, the bosses, the landlords & the owners, the girlfriends, the wives must always work to denigrate the small towns, villages & the countryside, & pump up the paper money urban globe-trotting billionaire with the demon-like face.

    To gain traction in the Big City you must all swear an oath to join the army of the soulless. So, that you become a body with no life, a machine with no individual will of your own. A thing that swallows the empty platitudes that dominate the cityscape. The correct instructions & programming that that you were born with – i.e. the contours of Life itself has now gone – that is to say – you have renounced Life itself, & replaced it with Death.

    With that accomplishment done, Evil can now ply its trade in full upon you. That way people will see bad as good & good as bad. Then they will voluntarily enter the death camps looking for salvation, well-being & happiness from a cult & camp of death itself.

    Brainwashed & re-programmed out of knowing what Life itself is & what it means, they now unwittingly plea to the gateholders of death for a chance to die. When an agent of Death supplies the wish, you have a fleeting sense of joy that feels real. You have been given your chance to move up the social ladder that is a total illusion, based on manufactured false scarcity.

    They pray & worship the grimmest of reapers that have the run of those urban un-living nightmares called ‘Big Cities’. They are then given a gravestone to carry around with them – a Corporate Job in the Big City.

    Armed with this Job there is nothing left to do but die. And that is what people in their millions & now perhaps billions do. The Evil has succeeded in destroying the Life that you used to have. And you gave it away easily.

    But you don’t need to.

    So, you can leave the Corporate Job & the Big City. You can start to get Life itself back. Or you can stay in the Big City & preach about what it actually is – a Death Cult, far more insidious that Auschwitz could have ever hoped to be. Point out to the infected that they have been made to think down is up & good is bad, bad is good. The reception will be more than bad – but if one soul is saved then your mission is accomplished. For if this happens, the saved person will save another, then soon it is only a matter of time before the lies are all noticed & the Death Camp, The Death Cult, The Death Economy, The Death Gatekeepers, The Corporate Death Jobs, & The Big City completely folds.

    Why not help that Big City meet its True & final destiny a little faster than it otherwise would have? Or you can continue to blindly serve in the ranks of the Evil army of the walking dead.

    M.A.S. 30/05/2025

    They Haven’t Yet Burned All The Books (A Short Article)

    by Martin Anton Smith

    Custom
    Caption: Can You See The Cog?

    “If a Slave tells the other Slaves they are Slaves he is rejected by his own. We live in a world where Slaves cannot see or admit that they are so, nay will not admit so under any circumstances” Alfred X Turnstile famous writer of “Do You See It” 1927. P.S. The book or the Author is not real, but the sentiment is.

    Slaves will even advertise themselves on a public forum called “the Internet” desperately hoping that Slave Masters & other Slaves will be impressed by their commitment to Modern Day Slavery. Yes, there are little to no gaps in their Slave Records, which are euphemistically called CV’s. Yes – some of these modern-day Slaves even have “Houses”, “Cars”, “Holidays”, “Smart Phones” (Which make you dumb quick)”,”Husbands”, “Wives”, “Grandparents” “Cousins” & “Children”. In fact most do. And it has always been this way. But most of these things do they truly own, & the things they think are ‘natural relationships’ have become debased versions of what they were intended to be.

    In the case of the modern urban husband, his wife now owns him outright & without any escape clause in the contract. This is debasement of the intended role of men & women, husbands & wives, Children, Cousins, Grandparents. This is the trick – to debase, to inverse or reverse the original true & good intention.

    However, if you are a Slave to the Machine, this is not your fault – the system of domination is so perfected that the only alternative is to live under a bridge. Fault is not the point – the point is to realise your Slavery so as you can game the system as much as possible. If you don’t admit you are a Slave, you can never game the system to your advantage. So who is a Slave? there are some grey areas – but the main class of Slaves is black & white both literally & figuratively – these are the Employees.

    Bukowski was correct – “Slavery was never abolished, only expanded to include all the colours”. Know it. Game it. But I know not everyone can do this. Only a tiny few have this power. Call it a Superpower – because that’s what it is. If you succeed in having “open eyes”, you’ve somehow beat the centuries of expert brainwashing you were born into. This is probably only because they haven’t yet burnt all the books. That day is well under way. Use your time wisely. But first you must take your time back for yourself.

    “The Slave Farm” (A Thought)

    by Martin Anton Smith

    This ‘World’ & its ‘Economy’ are made for Four types:

    Firstly –

    The under-confidant slave type, from ‘bad families’.

    These are those that are perpetually squashed & always have been throughout History.

    Let’s call them The Slaves – for yes, they definitely still exist.

    They take their beatings like the hardened soldiers they are.

    They are the rank & file of the Corporation.

    Secondly,

    Is the over-confidant but totally average intellegence type,

    Let’s call them the ‘Slave Line Managers’

    Who are smart enough to do the work assigned,

    But not too smart to raise the question ‘why do it at all?’.

    These types are willing to pull the ladder up on their own – the Slaves,

    Becasue they like the carrots then dished out.

    These are the ‘Corporate achievers’ – The Corporate Leaders & Managers.

    They occupy the top two-thirds of the Corporation.

    It’s worth mentioning the Apex types of these,

    These are the Machiavellian types from the so called ‘good families’ & boarding schools.

    They are the CEO’s, The Execs, The Partners, The Politicians, the MP’s & PM’s & Presidents.

    These are the ones that are talked about on the airwaves,

    The ones in movies you are told in a myriad of sneaky ways to respect, to obey.

    The Third kind are the modern-day Slave Owners

    They are the Ultra Mega Billionaires – the ones that own all the key assets,

    These are those that sell mega credit cards to entire nations – to enslave them.

    They have the controlling share of THE EARTH.

    And contrary to airwave propaganda – they decide what is done & when.

    These are the types that let World Wars happen.

    It is imporatant that these types are anonymous & hide in the shadows –

    They’d be assassinated in a second otherwise.

    Oh & I almost forgot – theres a Fourth type – The Celebrity –

    These are the empty vessels that are the autometon agents of Slave Owners –

    They are a special type of Slave –

    They are stupid, wildly overconfident,

    & desperate to remedy a distinct lack childhood parental love.

    The Slave owner uses these types of Slaves as a messenger to all the other Slaves.

    The message is

    “Stay in your lane Slave!”

    “Follow orders rom above”

    “Don’t think you can escape now”

    “We’ve got you for life!”

    Then their are those that live ourside the World & The Economy:

    They’ll probably die early under a bridge,

    Becasue to live outside the system entails this.

    These are the Angels.

    And they cannot feel hatred,

    And they are not violent either.

    Only the Slave Owners & the Angels themselves know this.

    The other two ranks of Slaves merely call the ‘Bums’ or ‘Losers’.

    The Slave Owners have designed a wicked system of genius,

    Whereby if you reject the World & The Econony,

    As an Angel would & does,

    You will be nade to suffer greatly,

    So much so, all will see it.

    You will serve as a warning to all the other Slaves to not to do the same.

    The last thing they want,

    Is for you to enjoy the good & bountiful natural world as it was designed for you.

    They must stop this at all costs,

    And that’s why The World looks as it does today –

    A Slave Farm.

    Yes Sir & Maddam,

    The Slave Owners do some devilish works.

    And now you know it too.

    “The Economy (Wants You Dead)” (An Idea)

    by Martin Anton Smith

    The Economy wants all your time,

    All your energy,

    All your attention.

    While you’re its useful slave – it’ll run you ragged, daily.

    It’ll make you sit & stare at a eye ruining-dopamine destroying – 25 fps-flickering-doom screen.

    And they work you’re doing isn’t any more real,

    Than the social construct that created it.

    The “story” is that down the line something “of value” is produced.

    That’s a lie – 90% of what’s produced is in reality a by-product.

    The real product is Brainwashing – the product/service is in actuality, just the derivative of that.

    “Holidays away for the plebs” – Brainwashing to squeeze the last remainder of cash from the slaves.

    “House, Land + Mortgage package” – designed to trap you as a Modern Slave to “The Economy”.

    “Brand Marketing” – hacks your biological need for social acceptance.

    “Alcohol fueled weekends” – designed to make you forget last week but ensure you show up Monday.

    The idea of a “Career” – this is to induce you to ditch your family & community in your home town.

    The “Career” pretends to pay you more so to justify casting away responsibility to your community.

    The “Career” or “Full time Job” in The Economy wants to half kill at least 75% of the World.

    These 75% are the ones that agree to be Totalised Slaves in & to the system.

    By deft chicanery “The Economy” kills all the slave’s energy & extinguishes any “life spark” they have.

    This death dished by “The Economy” has these bedfellows

    Feelings of hopelessness

    Dispair

    Loneliness

    Isolation

    Bad blood pressure

    Heart disease

    Liver disease

    Anti depressant mania

    I could list more of course but you get my drift.

    So that 75% are the captured ones in the system, that are dying spiritually & energetically.

    The other 25% are those that literally die on the streets.

    They function as a constant warning to the other 75% – that things could even be worse if you copy them.

    The 25% die on the Streets because they can’t reach ‘minimum employment standards’,

    OR they it is because the refused to partake in the only system on offer – THE ECONOMY.

    “The Economy” kills most these 25% withing 10 years of being on the streets.

    “The Economy” is the inverse of Earth’s natural abundance.

    “The Economy” creates Artificial scarcity of everything you want,

    But creates an Artificial Surplus of The Worker Slave Pool:

    This is called “Structural Unemployment” & is permanent by design.

    It Keeps the Slaves wages & requests down to a minimum.

    I could go on forever, but it suffices to summarise:

    “The Economy” is what you should be afraid of,

    Rally against,

    See its Propaganda,

    Use it against itself.

    It wants the whole world either dead inside or dead on the streets.”

    “The Economy” – the first Virtual Reality ever invented.

    So stop being a sucker, a modern-day Slave to The Economy.

    Why pledge your allegiance & life for a mirage?

    Why be The Evil Machiavellians whipping boy?

    There is no need my friend.

    When you can know all this & still choose to smile through it all.

    “The Economy” will notice you still have your soul intact.

    Then that Beast will see you’re living well.

    And that is, as they say, the best Revenge you can have.

    “The Drones” (a poem/prose)

    by Martin Anton Smith


    So they appear in the sky,

    And of course all us joe schmoes,

    Are left guessing as to what the hell they are.

    The legacy news & the podcasters are happily abuzz,

    As the billion of eyeballs are reigning in their easy cash.

    All at the ease of a clicking click click.

    “Is it a bird is it a plane…no you fool it’s a deep state psy-op”

    “Don’t be stupid ya nimrod! It’s the Star-men Pleiades”

    “No no no silly schoolboy – they’re sniffing out rogue nuclear warheads!”

    “You’re all so uneducated – it’s the Dems creating a false crisis to hang on to power”

    “Look son read your ufology history – its Project Bluebeam – say sayonara to all Freedom – Welcome to the Gulag son!”

    And now the Poet gives his two cents.

    I don’t know what it is but I know this:

    It’s all the result if too many sneaky Machiavellian’s,

    Behind too many closed doors,

    With too many “top secret” & “classified” stamps.

    With too much easy black budget cash,

    Who are happy to trash democracy for “national security reasons”.

    This Drone stuff is just what happens when the Machiavellian dweeb numbers spike.

    It’s just like nature – to much of anything leads to its own destruction –

    Nature cures it’s own imbalance as part of its corrective system.

    So they same happens with families, cities societies & empires.

    Eventually all the silliness collapses,

    & this sometimes means better people from other lands take the reigns.

    But it’s all been done before & nothings new.

    The only question to ask is this:

    How will this season of Earth Reality TV end?

    Are the Drones a new plot twist?

    Or an ‘annoying new character’ added wishfully to lift flagging ratings?

    As always we boobs just have to wait it out.

    When the years pass & the smoke clears & the mirrors fall.

    We’re left with History.

    Yes it’s written by the victors,

    But the sneaks & cheats tend to be outed eventually.

    There are enough correct pieces of the puzzle to create a semblance of the ‘true image’.

    Call me a one eyed History lover – but stand by my comment.

    So we will know what the Drones were all about sometime around the year 2050.

    And so the great Windsor Davies often retorted:

    Oh dear, how sad…never mind.

    Or similarly as Marcus Aurelius would advised:

    You have power over your mind — not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength”.

    So not sure about you,

    But I’m going to listen to Marcus Aurelius & Windsor Davies on this one.

    After all, isn’t a sign of madness to take advice from those that hate you?

    I’d rather chose not to be insane, at least while the choice is still mine.