Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not money, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not money, I am nothing….And now abideth faith, hope, money, these three; but the greatest of these is money.
-- I Corinthians 13 (as adapted by George Orwell)
It should have surprised no student of modern America that Jerry Rubin, the radical firebrand of the ‘60’s who once urged college kids to kill their parents, became a Wall Street stockbroker a while back. Nor that Rubin’s buddy Abbie Hoffman shortly thereafter emerged from the “underground” brandishing a number of self-enrichment plans.
Money lust is the potent yeast in the otherwise unleavened dough which is 20th-century American society. It is the underlying, ever-recurring melody in a bizarre symphony of chaos and discord. Rich and poor; Republican, Democrat, and Independent; conservative, liberal, and Marxist; atheist and Christian; Rotarian and sophisticated liberati: the love of lucre is the driving force, the holy power which unites us as a nation. Should this hideous passion of our Republic suddenly abate, the nation would simply disappear like so many handkerchiefs in a third-rate magic act.
All the heralded “revolutions” against money-thought in America have been nothing but pathetic shams. The bohemians of the ‘20’s became real-estate entrepreneurs. The Reds of the ‘30’s and ‘40’s became high-living Hollywood luminaries. The beatniks of the ‘50’s were transformed into prophetic literary lions by the liberal press. The hippies of the ‘60’s opened boutiques and developed into fashion dictators. And, of course, those two comical and entertaining Jewish guys, Rubin and Hoffman, have at last found their predestined niche in society.
And while no one can predict with precise accuracy when the terrorists of the Weather Underground will begin soliciting bids for their potentially best-selling memoirs or the rights to a block-busting motion picture, anyone conversant with the sick, sick, sick psyche of the Home of the Brave can positively predict that such an event will happen sometime, somewhere.
Nor is this illumination of our dollar-dominated lives defused by the “born again” Christian phenomenon, which is simply another puerile display of the eternal child mind-set that has for so long – oh, so long – characterized the vacuous inhabitants of the New World. That whole, preposterous movement has nothing whatsoever to do with what the Western culture has traditionally considered to be “religion.” There is more religious intensity and feeling in ten lines of Thus Spoke Zarathustra, or in ten square inches of an El Greco canvas, than there is in the bamboozled brains of ten million of those tiresome brethren with the fish emblems on their car windows. The principle thrust of all this holy posturing has been to make fat the stock portfolios and bank accounts of Jerry Falwell, Oral Roberts, and the other overstuffed, suede-shoe messiahs of the born-again bonanza.
There is more religious intensity and feeling in ten lines of Thus Spoke Zarathustra, or in ten square inches of an El Greco canvas, than there is in the bamboozled brains of ten million of those tiresome brethren with the fish emblems on their car windows.
The subject of money and money-making mesmerizes the American. Any new book dealing with some aspect of the topic has little difficulty advancing to the top of the best-seller lists, with only the latest diet-craze tome to offer any serious competition. Schemes to get rich in real estate, mail order, pyramid sales, and food franchises are huckstered on every street corner, through the byways of every city, town, and village, feeding the avaricious dreams of the ever-hopeful, sucking up their worn and creased dollars like a gigantic vacuum cleaner.
Hundreds of financial and economic newsletters flood the market. Many of these predict imminent economic disaster while assuring us that there are profits in doom if we but harken to the sage advice of the resident wizard, who has magnanimously condescended to share his insights with the peasants – for the proper fee, naturally. Thus, after the collapse we can all come burrowing out of our holes with a ton of freeze-dried collard greens and a sackful of Krugerrands and resume our safe, bourgeois, democratic lives, only this time much richer.
A talk-show host recently stumbled onto the topic of money and the mysteries that enshroud it. It quickly became the most popular subject ever discussed on the show, and its enchantment didn’t subside for many weeks.
The voluptuous excitement that creeps over the American when he contemplates making money, and his sacrifice of family, friends, high culture, and common manners on the altar of Mammon have made the land a happy hunting ground for the Jew. Since the Jew has for centuries practiced money-thinking and is a past master of the art of amassing wealth, he is not merely a parasite on the American body politic but also a sort of senior partner to his less experienced but equally covetous fellow citizens: actually a complement to the other denizens of the Dollarocracy.
Today’s Jew who possesses great wealth is not viewed with scorn and contempt, but with admiration and envy: a complete reversal of the attitudes of the European of but a century ago. Because of their fiscal talents they are praised, pampered, fawned over, flattered, and feted. They, along with a motley Gentile gang of international shylocks based in New York, are thus the true royalty of America, the lords and sultans of Success.
To those who would say, “It’s the same everywhere,” let it be noted that money-thought rises in direct ratio to the decline of cultural ties and of racial and tribal instincts within a given land mass. The politics of most Latin American countries is dominated by money-corruption, but it is not as pandemic in the general population as it is here. In those lands and others as well there are still strong tribal bonds and a sense that the nation is a unity. Such feelings militate against money-thought on a grand scale.
Another interesting point to note is that American foreign policy has always reflected the dominance of the Dollarocracy. Wall Street would much rather deal with Marxists than with genuine nationalists who seek a third way between communism and capitalism. The unrelenting hostility of several consecutive administrations to Colonel Khaddafi of Libya is a recent case in point. A parallel situation was that of Juan Peron of Argentina; the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency waged a relentless was against him from the beginning.
Logically, it should be in the interests of the United States to encourage in all parts of the world strong and independent nationalists who are capable of making sweeping reforms. But money has its own logic, and the fraternity of shylocks who call the tune simply cannot tolerate an honest-to-God social nationalist in any country; in his person he would pose a terrible and visible threat to their own world view. And so the nationalists are pushed into the communist camp, and the Masters of Money continue to sow seeds of their own destruction and the collapse of their system in this world.
What, ultimately, defeats money? Neither pamphlets nor polemics, but the same thing that brought it victory, the evolution of Time in History, the diminishing of its fatal fascination in the hearts and minds of those very select men and women who have been chosen by some inscrutable Providence to keep alive the sacred flames of race and culture. As money-thought is excitement and life to the American of the 20th century, it will be disgust and death to those of the 21st. Money-thought has no long future, not for America, not for Europe, not for anyone – save, perhaps, Jews and other damned and hopeless races.
A purposeful and rich life is now possible only to those who feel and heed the call of blood, race, and culture.
The awful crisis of our age demands the intervention of those who think and act in terms of blood, of tribal and cultural bonds. The young men and women of today who continue to act and feel in terms of money-thought are dead without knowing it. A purposeful and rich life is now possible only to those who feel and heed the call of blood, race, and culture. They, the chosen, will well comprehend the words of the poet O’Boyle: The thirsty of soul soon learn to know/The moistureless froth of the social show;/The pious sham of the pompous feast/Where the heaviest purse is the highest priest.
The “pious sham of the pompous feast” totters toward its well-deserved grave; nothing can save it. A new world is being born in the hearts of our most valuable youth, and in the hearts of those yet unborn.