Who Are The 0.00000375%?
In the shadowed corners of the world’s consciousness, Elon Musk stood towering, not as a symbol of the elite, but as a testament to the ever-blurring lines of the socio-economic construct.
However, the apex upon which he perches is not the zenith of global dominion, but merely a noticeable peak in the great range of wealth and power.
Beneath him lies the vast majority — a populace often referred to in terms reminiscent of Orwell’s own “proles”. Yet, above? Ah, above is a stratum so rarefied that its existence is oftentimes considered nothing but spectral myth.
While the masses toast or vilify Musk, labelling him the wealthiest among them, he is but a cog in a much larger, far more enigmatic machine.
The figures touted by revolutionaries during the days of “Occupy Wall Street” became the world’s mantra:
The 99% and the 1%
Yet, like so many mantras, they have been diluted and repurposed.
Where once they stood as a rallying cry against an intangible puppeteer class, they have now been recast to include mere high earners.
The age-old stratagem: redefine to obscure.
It prompts a question whispered only in the most clandestine of circles: Who truly belongs to the 1% of the 1% of the 1% of the 1%?
If one dares dissect the structure, the 0.0001% — a mere 8,000 amidst a bustling world — emerges. And in the vast expanses of the world, teeming with its billions, a committee of, say, 300 people would represent a mere 0.00000375% of humanity’s vast collective.
This elusive elite, transcending mere affluence, wields the true strings of global puppetry. Their obscurity is their brilliance; for to remain unknown is to remain unchallenged.
Much like the elusive Cosa Nostra, The Italian mafia, a spectra whose very existence was denied for years by the FBI. These puppeteers dwell behind thick veils.
Perhaps they learned from the Devil’s playbook, not only convincing the world of their nonexistence but occasionally painting themselves as its saviors.
The age of information was to be their nemesis. With the onset of radios, televisions, and then the behemoth of the Internet, the world believed it had finally lit the dark corners.
Yet, in this maze of information, the elite found new shadows to inhabit. In an era where information is as ubiquitous as air, the true art is not in what is revealed, but in what remains concealed.
And as the world continues its relentless march into the abyss of knowledge, one must remember — not everything that glitters in the spotlight holds the power; sometimes, it’s the shadow that commands.
In a past not too distant, uttering phrases like ‘The Deep State’ or ‘The Ruling Classes’ would immediately brand you a heretic of common thought, likely even a conspiracist.
But in this current epoch, figures like Tucker Carlson boldly parade such topics before the masses on nightly broadcasts. What was once the domain of fringe broadcasters, the likes of Alex Jones in the distant corners of the radio, has now entrenched its roots deep within the heart of public discourse.
Perhaps a necessary awakening, unless it is already too late.
The elite, the minuscule fraction at the zenith, now find themselves battling the burgeoning tide of this new Information Era. It’s a perilous game to challenge such a transformative age.
Through the annals of human history, nothing has reshaped our essence more profoundly than a renaissance of information.
And then there’s Musk, perhaps destined to bear the brunt of the world’s animosity, meant for those shadowy magnates, the puppeteers of global affairs.
While he dreams of Martian dominions, the true rulers, those with aspirations of godhood on Earth, are relentless in their pursuits. Their lives are a never-ending quest to uphold a grand deception, the absolute fiction they require the world to believe.
Their dedication to this façade is unsettling, almost inhuman. We, the common populace, struggle to keep track of their myriad shadow institutions, but gradually, they have ensnared our collective conscience.
The dark, dystopian futures once dreamt up by filmmakers, stories meant to serve as warnings, now appear all too possible. We stand at a precipice, an epoch marked by unprecedented uncertainty. And the puppeteers?
Their response to the unfolding chaos seems to be adopting the role of malevolent storybook antagonists. Their conduct during the plague only reinforced their true nature. Whatever enlightenment they might have garnered from the data remains shrouded, as their path seems undeterred.
The masses move with a somber uniformity, embodying the lie, living it, breathing it. Truth becomes inconsequential in this dance. Every contradiction, every glaring inconsistency is brushed aside. The grand deception strengthens, solidifying its hold.
It may soon be indistinguishable from reality. There will be murmurs, whispers of dissent, those who see through the façade. Yet, the world will mostly turn a deaf ear.
To accept that one has been blind for a lifetime is a bitter pill, and those shouting about the Emperor’s true state are likely to be met with scorn or indifference.
Is this dramatic reenactment of a popular conspiracy theory a warning of what’s to come, or is it just a silly hoax?
We can only hope it’s the latter.
In this epoch, they stand tall, and the machinations at play are truly monumental. One could almost be led to admire the sheer will, the audacious brilliance required to orchestrate such a grand deception.
Almost.
But the sinister nature of their exploits, those which they brazenly admit to, casts a long shadow over any grudging admiration.
One shudders at the atrocities they might have unleashed to maintain their hegemony, perched at the zenith, precisely where the pyramid narrows to its all-seeing eye. Their actions are the epitome of unbridled cruelty.
Consider the transgressions hidden from the public eye, those lurking in the shadows, whispers that the world is yet to fully comprehend. The term ‘conspiracy theory’ no longer serves to muffle such whispers.
These puppeteers have become masters of mental manipulation, pioneers in the art of gaslighting.
This shadowy collective, ancient in its lineage, is reminiscent of a cabal of underground brokers, primarily of fiscal deceit. Their influence is omnipresent, with operatives in every conceivable industry and hierarchical stratum, ensuring control over even the most seemingly inconsequential levers of power.
With coffers overflowing, they wield resources that grant them unbridled power to manifest their every desire. Their financial prowess allows them to eclipse any competitor, paying premiums that defy market logic.
For when they set their sights on a prize, it is but inevitable that it will fall into their grasp.
Redefining “Conspiracy Theorist”
Conspiracy Theorist: A label conveniently used to tarnish those discerning individuals who pierce through the veils of deception and harbor inklings of the hidden agendas of The Powers That Be.
A Conspiracy Theorist, akin to a relentless detective, is imbued with an insatiable thirst for the truth, especially when obfuscation is evident, wrought by corrupt bureaucrats or the affluent and their vast conglomerates.
Their hypothesis about the intentions of these powers is often unsettlingly precise.
The Powers That Be view this with contempt. They divert a significant portion of their vast resources toward suppressing and discrediting the Conspiracy Theorist, as well as those Truth Seekers of similar disposition.
The Conspiracy Theorist is especially reviled by manipulators, sophists, and cunning deceivers. These elites allocate substantial resources to counteract and undermine the Conspiracy Theorist, using both virtual and tangible means.
Every chink in the Conspiracy Theorist’s armor is exploited ruthlessly by this ruling faction, turning each vulnerability against this beacon of truth.
Proficient in logical discernment, the Conspiracy Theorist embodies the investigative prowess of figures like Sherlock Holmes, Perry Mason, and the tenacity of detective ensembles like the group that drove the Mystery Machine.
In the midst of this burgeoning Information Age, the old powers find themselves faltering, evidently ill-equipped to navigate its uncharted waters. Their actions grow increasingly erratic, their façade, once impenetrable, now shows cracks.
Historically, the rise of new ages of information has always heralded seismic shifts in the human experience. Each such epoch has invariably catalyzed profound evolutions in the human spirit and societal structure.
The advent of the internet was merely the preliminary tremor; the true earthquake is now underway with the emergence of blockchain, cryptocurrencies, smart contracts, and the rapid advancements in AI.
These technologies are blooming at a pace that leaves society grappling for understanding, teetering on the brink of what might come next.
As the traditional empire of fiat currency wavers, fresh technological entities stand poised to usurp its throne. There’s talk of decentralized digital currencies that bypass the age-old guardians of wealth — the banks.
Yet, lurking in the background is the potential for these very innovations to be co-opted, presenting an opportunity for complete domination.
Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs), anyone?
The horizon hints at the dawn of “The Singularity” — that impending juncture when machinery might overshadow human intellect.
In this impending era, for the first time in recorded history, those who have long considered themselves the masterminds — the self-proclaimed deities of our world — may find themselves outwitted.
The looming digital entity, a Matrix of sorts, promises not just supremacy, but perhaps a mortal veil as well.
In the fading years of their existence, the elite eye a scientific horizon filled with promises of rejuvenation. Not long ago, a headline on Futurism.com captured an emergent sentiment:
Elderly Billionaires May Seek Immortality, Compounding Wealth Forever
“As each year passes, the riches of the wealthy multiply.”
Many among the affluent aren’t merely seeking an extended lease on life; they yearn for endless existence, and their substantial resources are being funneled towards this very pursuit.
Such advancements could enable figures of immense power, like Bezos, to perpetuate their influence indefinitely.
• futurism.com/elderly-billionaires-immortal-compounding-wealth-forever
The forthcoming years may indeed unravel the age-old quest for eternal youth. The prospect of true immortality looms larger than ever.
Yet, it’s conceivable that such revelations may arrive just beyond the grasp of those who presently aspire to be terrestrial deities.
Their destiny might be likened to Moses: witnessing the edge of the future, but barred from its embrace.
These determined luminaries, who have channeled lifetimes into unyielding ambition, might find themselves a breath away from their ultimate objective. An ironic twist of fate.
Their predecessors, the ‘earthly gods’ of yesteryears, couldn’t have envisioned such prospects. Both these opportunities, symbolic of this era’s unique zeitgeist, materialized as tangible dreams only in recent times.
And as the future unfolds, it is almost certain that a multitude of groundbreaking technologies will surface, reshaping our world in ways currently beyond our most audacious imaginations.
Even the most prophetic foresight might merely graze the truth, reducing these revolutionary prospects to mere fragments of speculative fantasy.
In the bleak expanse of Russia, the Czarist dominion crumbled under the weight of fervent Bolsheviks. These youthful disciples, their minds molded with fervor, truly believed they were champions of the common man.
They envisioned a revolt against the dominating few. Yet, as the smoke cleared, a stark disillusionment clouded their triumph. Had they been merely pawns in a larger game?
In truth, every cog of this ‘revolution’ moved with precision, choreographed by unseen puppeteers. Their methods bore the hallmark of seasoned tacticians.
This wasn’t their inaugural dance with uprising. Their expertise was evident: from financing to orchestrating, from agitation to administration.
What had been presented as a proletariat revolt against Russia’s gilded tyrants was, in fact, a meticulously woven charade.
These ardent revolutionaries, believing they were rising against the oppressors, were in truth amplifying their power.
The promise had been of a revolt against the elite, yet in the aftermath, it was clear that they had been tools for these very forces.
They had dismantled their own world, only to let these elites rebuild from the ruins, ascending to unchallenged dominion.
True grassroots movements, pure in their infancy, are often ensnared by lurking powers.
And while the revolutionaries cried out that this was ‘their’ revolt, by its end, the nation was shattered, the perceived aristocracy decimated.
Above the smoldering ruins reigned an even mightier force, controlling the world’s financial arteries. They were the custodians of global currency, wielding money like a weapon.
In whispered corridors, they were called ‘Banksters’, and behind shadowed veils, some even refer to them as the ‘The Illuminati’ or the ‘Khazarian Mafia’, a cabal perhaps unparalleled in history.
In the shadowy corridors of power, this Mafia stood tall. They envisioned themselves as deities walking the Earth, believing that the globe, in its entirety, should be their dominion.
After all, by their reckoning, they had crafted this world. They dreamt of a future where every corner, every whisper of the wind belonged to them. Their path was clear, mapped out meticulously; they needed but to adhere.
For years, they steered the mighty ship of the USSR, a reflection of their larger vision for the planet. The West, with all its pomp and power, was but a façade of danger in the past century.
The idea of eternal youth, an ever-flowing fountain of invincibility, might have been beyond the wildest dreams of their predecessors.
No group had ever treaded so close to the precipice of omnipotence, of ensnaring every soul, as this current generation of would-be rulers.
One could only muse upon Moses’s journey — his confrontation with Pharaoh, his decades in the wilderness, his entire life dedicated to reaching a land promised, only to stand at its threshold, denied entry.
If the contemporary power-brokers faced a similar fate, especially missing the elusive potion of agelessness, how would they cope?
It’s plausible that desperation might drive them to hasten their plans. Ever since the unforeseen rise of Trump in 2016, their timelines seemed disrupted, yet their efforts have only redoubled. Their pace, frenetic.
Yet, their ambitions might remain unfulfilled, slipping like sand through fingers. But unlike Moses, their hubris may never let them reconcile with such an outcome.
As we stand at the precipice of another global conflict, the finale in the trilogy of world wars, is anyone genuinely taken aback? Observing the dance into a conflict between Ukraine and Russia, with untold billions siphoned off in the process, should we be?
What remains of the US Fiat Dollar, the last fragments of its once grand stature, is now being systematically drained by individuals devoid of moral compasses.
These individuals are often flanked by Americans, those possessing some degree of affluence or political clout, or with the potential to ascend in the ever-deteriorating landscape of the US Federal Government.
Indeed, some are mere sycophants, ineffectual individuals, barely more than cogs in this vast machine. Yet, these very individuals often find a way to become entangled in this corrupt web, proving susceptible to bribes or more sinister enticements.
They invariably become obstacles, and the system knows just how to remove them — either by reward or threat.
Is this yet another prelude to a cataclysm of unparalleled proportions — a nuclear confrontation? For the self-proclaimed gods of this world, such a possibility might not be concerning.
They may lack immortality, but with their advanced underground havens nestled beneath the Alps, they harbor the audacity to believe they could endure a nuclear apocalypse in opulence, leaving the unfortunates above to face unimaginable fates. While the world above spirals into chaos, they down below, not gods, but demons. Forevermore cursed — haunting the Alpine Catacombs.
To the ill-fated masses above, these useless eaters, perhaps it’s merely their destiny. Labelled as intrinsically flawed, carriers of societal plagues and prejudices, perhaps this would be their ordained end.
On the topic of privilege, isn’t it ironic that the puppeteers, these ‘aspiring deities of our realm’, with an innate cunning and a mastery over doublespeak, perceived the irony long before it became apparent to the masses. Indeed, their own countenances betray their claims of different heritage.
And what of these legions of loyalists, the ironically named Left Wing? Que lastima. Duped. Be it the disillusioned liberals or the fervent neo-Marxists, they blindly served the machinations of their overlords, like characters in a tragedy, their inevitable fate is oblivion once their utility wanes.
The architects of this grand design, despite their seeming omnipotence, face an unfamiliar foe: a changing financial order.
As the old structures wobble, a new decentralized system reaches out to the vast multitude, inviting them to break free.
It’s a chilling thought, being a mere speck in this vast plot, adrift and powerless, a pawn in their Great Plan.
History’s cruel lesson is clear: the ignorant are condemned to relive it, while the enlightened are fated to watch, helpless.
The despair lies not just in the knowledge, but in the inability to share it. If only the world could see what looms, if only there was a way to pierce the veil of deceit. But the relentless propaganda machine has left many blind.
Yet, a flicker of hope remains. Among us are those who see, who understand. Perhaps the outlier, the one who defies the odds, the one who touches the stars and tunnels through earth, might yet have an answer. If anyone could alter the course, it would be him.
