MAN UP! HEAD DOWN!

Life isn't to be enjoyed. It's to be tolerated. I think that's undeniable. You can breakdown in the face of this truth or you can man up. If you choose to man up, you get your head down. You get your head down and you get your work done and you pay your way. There isn't much joy in it, but there is dignity in it. Don't be a freeloader. Don't expect anyone else's share. Take care of yourself. It's about competition, not cooperation. The only time you cooperate is to beat the competition. We're all rivals and you know it. Deep down, you know that only too well. Sure, the minus is that no one owes you anything, but the plus is that you don't owe anyone anything. Just get your head down, provide for yourself and try not to die in too much pain.

You see, you've got to be a tough guy in this world because this world is tough, guys. You don't measure the worth of your world with intangible notions like personal contentment and a sense of community. That stuff isn't quantifiable. You don't see that shit on graphs. Community can be best validated by measurable collective economic stability. That way we keep the road to the workplace smoothly tarred. Anything else and you're on your own. You've got to man up and compete. You've got to generate the income to partake of resources. There isn't enough to go around so you've got to earn your share. There's a scarcity and even if there isn't a scarcity, we should act as if there is or else there will be. Got me?

Way back in the way back when, F.W. Taylor knew that internal gratification didn't get us anywhere. He knew that external reward is the way to go. You're not a craftsman, you're a cog, but you're a cog that gets paid a heck of a lot more than a craftsman and shit gets made quicker too. Where would we be without quick shit? Waiting, that's where. It's about efficiency guys. Efficiency trumps all and if you're efficient you get paid more and you can spend your pay on quick shit.

Of course, I know what you're thinking. You're complaining that your income has been cut despite your hard work. If your income has been cut you man up. Work harder! The frontiersmen of old didn't bitch when their crops failed. Oh no. They steeled themselves for a hungry winter and tried again next year. People died, yeah. People die all the time. The cog gets rusty and it's replaced. Big deal. The machine has to keep running and that's all that matters because without the machine, well, without the machine we'd all have to go without wouldn't we? Yeah, we would. We'd all just be spare parts with no purpose. We'd have no reason to get our heads down and we'd have to look up and look around and if we did that then who knows what we'd see. What would we see then? It could be anything. Anything under the sun. The thought is too awful to contemplate. Just get your head down, that's the only way. For the love of God, whatever you do, get your head down and don't look up. Don't look up, just man up! Man up and get your head down!

THE TECHNOCRATS

Do you remember those mad cartoon characters The Technocrats? They were on every Saturday after the ThunderCats. They wore well-cut suits and expensive watches. They always had mildly bored expressions on their faces and pushed their glasses up their noses. They overcame sovereignty with their powers of austerity. At every commercial break, you'd be reminded to stay tuned when The Technocrats pointed at you from the screen and told you to 'stick with the programme!' Ah yeah, The Technocrats were mad. Do you remember them at all?

They had a robot that was the comic relief. The robot was called KEN-E. KEN-E was a clueless sack of mechanical crap that barely worked. The Technocrats were always playing tricks on him. In fairness, KEN-E was a very loyal robot. Even though The Technocrats didn't take him at all seriously, KEN-E would always obey their commands. 'The Technocrats demand my loyalty,' KEN-E would say, 'I must stick with the programme.'

The Technocrats had all these enemies too. Alexis Feckless was the worst. He was always coming up with stuff so he could escape paying his way. He wore a leather jacket with the collar turned up and he had a shiny bald head. He looked really evil in a lazy kind of way. He was terrible. We'd boo and hiss him when we were kids. We all joined The Technocrats Club too. You'd send away your name and address and then you'd be billed for all sorts and sent budgetary advice. They'd tell you how to spend your pocket money and recommend that you sell all your toys to wealthier kids and then rent them back. After a while of renting the toys back you'd run out of the money you made from selling them. Then you'd write to the club requesting further advice and you'd get a letter back telling you to 'stick with the programme!' That's all the letter said. 'Stick with the programme!' This was just advice of course. You didn't have to do what the letter said, but if you didn't you'd be thrown out of The Technocrats Club and no one wanted that. All the other kids would laugh at you. You'd have a bit more pocket money for sweets though.

I'll never forget the shocking final episode when Alexis Feckless revealed that The Technocrats were completely broke. He was a real dick about it. 'You're all broke,' he said laughing. 'I've got the proof and you're all completely penniless and always were. You're all a sham! A complete and utter sham! YOU'RE ALL JUST A LYING, CRIMINAL, TYRANNICAL, SCUM SUCKING SHAM!' Then the show got cancelled so we never discovered how The Technocrats got out of that spot of bother. I'm sure they figured something out though. The Technocrats always came up with crazy plans. Some would say outright deranged plans, completely fucking demented plans. But, whatever happened, The Technocrats always looked like they knew what they were doing. Even if they didn't have the slightest notion what they were at, they always looked like they did. That was their main power. I'm sure they were OK in the end. We never found out though. The whole series was scrapped and I've since heard that every episode was taken and incinerated and the ashes were flushed down a toilet because the people that commissioned the show found the whole thing really embarrassing and shameful. Actually, the animation was a bit shit now I come to think of it. The plot continuity was all over the place too. But when you're a kid you don't mind that stuff too much. You're naive and pretty stupid and you'll accept any hopeless old God forsaken shit that's peddled to you. That's why the kids were so fond of KEN-E. They identified with him. KEN-E liked the reassuring demeanor of The Technocrats. I suppose the robot was comforted by their certainty. No matter what half-arsed bollocksology was afoot, us kids and KEN-E always stuck with the programme. We remained loyal. That is, until The Technocrats show got scrapped, burned and flushed down the fucking crapper where it rightfully belonged.

OBJECTS

There's no one left in the world. No one at all. But the cars still drive and the trains still arrive and depart and announcements still crackle from Tannoy's but from no one's mouth and for no one's ears. Products are still manufactured and sold but by who and to who? Import and export still continues but why? The world still bustles but is simultaneously silent. There's no one here to clean up the dog shit but that's OK because there are no dogs to shit.

An algorithm drives things on and machines fulfil the roles of consumers and producers. GDP is steady and things are running smoothly and does it matter that we are no longer here to witness all this because targets are being met and graphs are looking healthy and wasn't that what it was all for? There is no one here to see what is happening but that's OK because there isn't much to see. There is no longer anyone here to comment but that's OK because there is nothing to be said.

The grass still gets cut.

Dead leaves are swept up.

Healthcare expenditure is nil.

Objects go to the cinema to watch films made by objects about objects being objects and there is no one to complain about objectification. And there's no more of the sound and fury that signified everything. The world is purely utilitarian and every emotional experience is a simulacrum. A protocol. A choreographed imitation. The objects in the cinema laugh at all the right parts. There are no longer any wrong parts. Things are working at last. We finally got there by removing the thing that prevented us from arriving - us.

The tide comes in and the tide goes out and an abandoned tanker bleeds on the horizon. It doesn't matter at all.

BACKWARDS FORWARDS

and now I'm here again, yes, I'm back and I'll tell you how I came to be back in the next post but for this post I want to tell you about something I witnessed on my way back. On my way back (from a place that defies description because it isn't even there) I passed through several planes that contained possible realities that could have come to be if it wasn't for the fact that they didn't. One such reality caught my attention. A reality where the following took place...

This wealthy corporation invented rear view mirrors for pedestrians but pedestrians didn't want them because pedestrians didn't need them so then the corporation made ads and movies with 'cool' and 'glamorous' people walking backwards and made the ability to walk backwards a bit of a cultural status symbol and the inability to walk backwards a bit of a social stigma so, after a time, not too long a time, everyone wanted to walk backwards and then, to help them do it safely, the corporation sold everyone rear view mirrors.

Sales were staggeringly good. Shares in the corporation shot up and people were employed in the production, the selling, and the exportation and importation of rear view mirrors for pedestrians - and related products. In short: walking backwards was good for the economy and made fiscal sense. Everyone was happily walking backwards to work and then happily walking backwards to shops to spend their wages on rear view mirrors and rear view mirror paraphernalia - like rear view mirror polish and rear view mirror ornamentation. (People liked to decorate their rear view mirrors in different ways in order to express their individuality. Having said that, only a handful of decoration designs were considered desirable. The rest were considered to be lacking 'that certain something' required by the vast majority of people. So, the vast majority of people all expressed their individuality by purchasing the same select handful of decoration designs. Maybe it was belonging they were after and not individuality. Who knows? People eh? They're a funny lot.)

Anyway, everyone was happy and after a generation or two they all forgot how to walk forwards. They even forgot why anyone would want to walk forwards and actually considered walking backwards to be walking forwards. To these people, not walking backwards would be a perverse and/or insane thing to do. Rear view mirror sales never abated. The economy thrived. Going forward.

So, what do you think of that? Seem familiar? Surely not. Such batty fuckin behaviour could never become the norm in our reality. Heaven forbid! Heavens to Betsy! And who is Betsy anyway?

...So many questions. We shall answer all of them together or die in the attempt. I'll start by answering a question no one asked. The question is: 'what happened to Fugger after last time?' But I've run out of time so to find out what happened to Fugger after last time join Fugger next time.

YOU CAN’T BEAT THEM SO JOIN THEM

Hedge funds, directional funds, nondirectional return funds, credit default swaps, naked credit default swaps, distressed securities, risk arbitrage, crypto derivatives, topple domino commodity profiteering, speculative risk facilitation instruments, junk turkeys, monetary growth/loss manipulation dysfunction, systemic marginalised bond haemorrhoids, quantum fundament cluster fuck exchange spasms.

Hmm. All that complicated banking tomfoolery has made The Market seem a tad unappealing hasn’t it? But worry not. You can still play The Market and keep it simple and straightforward. I, Fugger, the people’s blogger, am here to show you how. You too can be a winner!

‘But Mister Fugger, The Market is callous and evil’, I hear you bleat. Well yeah, so what? Life is not about being nice and neither is The Market. Life is about getting as much as you possibly can and so is The Market. The Market is an inclusive game that anyone can play so quit occupying Wall Street and start making a living there. All other forms of revenue generation are obsolete. Buying is the new working. Selling is the new earning. You can’t beat The Market but you can play The Market.

What you want to do is invest in companies that produce things that are going to be in demand. Take a look at the world around you and speculate on its future, a bit like a science fiction writer would. What’s coming down the line? Right, well, for starters, the world is fast becoming an environmentally degraded shit house. What would people want in an environmentally degraded shit house? That’s right! Breathable air. Buy shares in fresh air. The more polluted the environment becomes the more demand there will be for fresh air. It’ll come in spray cans with names like Mountain Valley Gust and Odeur du Vie. Check and see what corporation is making moves re: fresh air, keep an eye on their shares and BUY BUY BUY!

Right, we’re off to a good start. What else happens in an environmentally degraded shit pile? What do people do? They choke yes, very good, but what else do they do? That’s right! They protest! They riot! (If they aren't doing so already over the bailouts, guffaw!) So, how can we profit there? I’ll tell you how. Invest in batons, water cannons, tear gas, pepper spray, rubber bullets, tasers, cattle prods and plastic zip tie handcuffs. Find out who makes these things, keep an eye on their shares and BUY BUY BUY!

If riots are coming wars are probably coming. Diminishing reserves of natural resources are going to make nations desperate. There’ll be land grabs all over the place. The towel heads and sand nig nogs (not being racist, just using the terminology of The Market) will be going crazy and they’ll need weapons and all the things associated with weapons. Missiles, guns, armoured trucks, tanks, electrodes, body bags, coffins. The French and the Russians profited greatly during the Iran v Iraq war of yesteryear. Over one million died. Many more millions were made. Remember that! Keep an eye on arms manufacturer shares and BUY BUY BUY!

Once you’ve made enough money on The Market you can start sponsoring election campaigns and that means what you say goes. You’re making policy! You’re king of the world! So, look at what’s around and see what money can be made. Keep those wars coming (there’s no money in diplomacy) and keep those fumes pumping (there’s no money in the oxygen this silly planet provides gratis). Take stuff from people and sell it back to them. Remember, you can only do this if you have bought a politician so find out who’s for sale and BUY BUY BUY!

Finally, buy the media. Seriously, just buy the lot of it. Tell everyone the story of the world and give it any ending you want. Don’t worry about the journalists. They’ll do whatever you say. You don’t even have to pay them that much. They are happy enough with just the attention. So, don’t just go down the shops and buy the paper, no, enter the market and BUY BUY BUY the paper.

Once you own the media you’ll own people’s minds. Just think, you’ll be the majority shareholder in human consciousness. You’ll own the world and the minds of the people who live upon that world. You’ll be a God! Maybe you can be THE God. Let’s face it, that other guy’s stock has fallen. God’s stock has fallen so it might be just the time to BUY BUY BUY!

Praise be to The Market! Hallowed be your name! See? I told you that you too could be a winner. Now get out there and BUY BUY BUY!

FACTORY

I opened a factory once. It didn’t make anything but people invested in it because they speculated that one day it would make something. They thought it was good factory, with its big conveyer belts and large delivery depot and all of that. The investors thought whatever the factory ended up making would be well made so they bought shares.

After a while, the investors noticed that the factory wasn’t making anything and they panicked and started to sell their shares so I sent out a press release saying that the factory was about to start making something and that it would be great. After the word went out, people started investing in the factory again. The press release got the factory over a difficult bump in the road but the factory never made anything. I wasn’t really interested in that side of the business.

I’m sure you saw my factory. It was on the road to your cousin’s house. Do you remember? It was in the big muddy field. Like a giant tombstone. It had a word written on it. Emblazoned across it. But you can’t remember what the word was. Neither can I to be honest. It was probably a word like ‘Paradigm’ or ‘Optimum’ or ‘Ventron’ (whatever that means). Or maybe it was the name of something from Greek or Norse mythology. Or maybe nothing was written on it or maybe the actual word ‘Nothing’ was written on it. Or maybe there was just a symbol on it, like an astrological thing or maybe a big question mark. Who knows?

Anyway, I eventually sold the factory to someone who sold it someone else who burned it down for the insurance money so there is nothing in that big muddy field anymore except for a strange smell, like melted plastic. But you won’t smell it because you won’t be passing that way. You don’t visit your cousin anymore and haven’t for a long long time. Not since your cousin got drunk and made that cruel observation about you that hurt because it was true or at least kind of true. You rang a taxi from the house and left on polite terms but you both knew you’d never see each other again. You didn’t say a word to the driver the whole way home. You just looked out the window. Lost in your thoughts. You passed my factory. It didn’t even register.

We are an industrious species. The human capacity for invention is limitless as is the human imagination. Even where there is nothing we see something. Well, some of us do. Some of us see opportunity where others just see a big muddy field with an empty factory in it with something written on the factory but it’s hard to say for certain what exactly it says and it doesn’t matter anyway because the factory is on fire.