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My Precious

The stream pushed against my calves as I made my way across. The sun shone brightly on that hot summer day, drawing crowds seeking to cool off in the swimming holes where the mountains meet the valley. Wading across a riffle to join my young classmates, I was watching the cautious progress of my bare feet over the smooth rocks and pebbles. The colors in the stone shimmered beneath the surface offering a familiar serenity. But there, a few feet away, was a glint that danced over the comfortable distortions of the stone bottom. I stepped forward grasping the gleaming object: A crudely made ring, battered and beaten by rocks and currents, its large stone long missing. Its heft confirmed what the gleam had hinted: That the ring was nearly pure gold. The discovery was met with much excitement by us all. Imaginations ran wild with stories of settlers, prospectors, and natives. But the ring was just a temporary curiosity, and it was soon squirreled away with other childhood memorabilia.

Some 40 years has passed and I am watching the first LOTR movie with my son. The narrative at the beginning promised intriguing metaphors for a gold aficionado. Evil power, too great and terrible to imagine, had crafted gold rings with the power to rule and had given these rings to the great kings of men, dwarves and elves. But the greed of men had caused them to accept the evil power of the rings and fall into darkness becoming Ringwraiths or Nazgul. And then there was the One Ring to rule them all.

So this movie was going to be good. The evil lord of globalism had granted the terrible powers of fiat and usury and captured the souls of the central bankers, sucking the asset base out of them rendering them inhuman Nazgul. The dwarves that had taken the rings were short, and I chuckled to myself recalling that gold shorts are commonly called dwarves by gold bugs. As I was contemplating the proper role in my fractured metaphor for the Elves with rings, I was jolted a bit to see the One Ring plucked from a stream. So perhaps this movie was going to be more than just good.

As the movie continued I enjoyed putting facets on the metaphor like dwarves, dead in their mines from shorting gold. Or the Elves, who seem to have risen above the grant of evil powers. Except for those captured, tormented and morphed into Orcs. But the movie left me rather creeped out, with the ring basically sucking the life out of its bearer. Taking away what is truly precious. I have seen similar effect on many real life Gollums seeking gold.

Back home, rummaging through an old box of trinkets yielded my childhood prize. My son was not impressed: As I slipped it on my finger I remained visible, and could not see the evil lord. Nor was he struck by any sense of coincidence. Me neither, I guess. But metaphors are useful, often more so than trying to decipher the subtle nuances of day to day events and data. Call it slipping the ring on the finger. The resulting image of central bankers as Nazgul is as revealing as it is entertaining. Their desperation in seeking the ring is reflected in the central banker's urgency in pushing globalist policy. And in the brutality we might expect to see in their continuing quest.

Now Greenspan's push for "flexibility" at the global level can be seen as a grab for the ring by the Witch King. And his seemingly deathly fear of protectionist policies as evidenced in strong language spoken at every opportunity of late can be explained as they would keep the ring out of reach. In order to prevent a mortal blow to the central banking agenda from imploding debts, particularly in the US, the Orcs and Uruk-hai must be allowed to cross link the global economy with derivatives, credit derivatives in particular. Everyone must be enslaved by the lord of fiat and usury.

So when Greenspan speaks, I hear the shrieks and screams of the Nazgul steeds, and the penetrating gaze of the eye burns through the rhetoric. We must join with Sauron, the evil lord of fiat and usury, as have our anointed legal and monetary authorities, by endorsing obscene growth rates in derivatives, being flexible regarding the distribution of losses to those financial institutions and individuals who have not yet surrendered to Sauron, or been defeated by armies of Orcs and mercenaries.

But here the metaphor becomes too powerful. And overwhelming. There is something in the souls of men that feels the spiritual bankruptcy of usury. Thus it is denounced by the tenets of the great religions. With the majority of those in America professing literal belief in the Bible there will be an awakening from this darkness. I wish it were as simple as finding a Volcano in which to throw my little memoir. But there is a long road ahead: we have barely left the Shire. And there is a challenge to keep the gold from absorbing our individual humanity in the course of the journey.

Gandalf recognized that there really never was much hope. But not all of us who understand the monetary system will be so enamored of it that we will accept and use it to personal advantage, Mr. Rothschild. Many souls yet survive. And while no man may defeat the most powerful of the Nazgul, the Witch King, there is an ounce of gold somewhere that will tip the balance. Perhaps it can be found around the neck of a young Lady Éowyn; a bride in a land yet free.

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