Paper money was never supposed to be the money.
It was a receipt.
You deposited gold at a bank.
The bank gave you a note that said:
"The bearer of this note may redeem it for X amount of gold."
That's all a dollar was. A claim ticket.
The paper had no value.
The gold in the vault did.
The paper just made it easier to carry.
This system worked for centuries.
Every major currency was backed this way.
The British pound.
The French franc.
The U.S. dollar.
Then, slowly, governments realized something:
If people trust the paper,
they never come for the gold.
So they printed more notes than they had gold.
Then more.
Then more.
When too many people asked questions,
they closed the gold window.
That was supposed to be temporary.
55 years later, the dollar is still backed by nothing
but trust. And that trust has cost you 97% of your purchasing power.
The receipt became the money.
Global money became trust-based.
And money became nothing but a promise
that nobody has to keep.
USDA issues New Food Pyramid
- Meat is king
- Whole milk, not skim milk
- Eggs are off the naughty list
- Sugary fruits demoted
- Lucky Charms no longer rank higher than steak
The world is healing.
You are a taker, not a maker. All you’ve done your whole life is take from the makers of the world.
The zero-sum mindset you have is at the root of so much evil. Once you realize that civilization is not zero-sum and that it is about making far more than one consumes, then it becomes obvious that the path to prosperity for all is just let the makers make.
Regarding Tesla, the reality is that I have been given nothing.
However, if I lead Tesla to become the most valuable company in the world by far and it stays that way for 5 years, shareholders voted to award me 12% of what is built. Anyone who wants to come along for the ride can buy Tesla stock.
If Tesla “merely” becomes a $1.999 trillion dollar company, I get nothing. This is a great deal for shareholders, which is why they voted so overwhelmingly to approve this, for which I am immensely grateful.
And they did so by a margin far more than you won your political seat.
@nogulagsagain When you read history and wonder if people in the past had lost their minds, all you need to do is look at the present day, the lack of action by the public and you can clearly see how we got there.
In the UK, white men get longer sentences for Facebook posts than migrants do for raping minors
The legal system doesn't actually protect people, it protects the interests of the state
The rape of white working class girls doesn't threaten globalism, but online criticism does
Do not be cowed into silence after the brutal murder of Charlie Kirk. Just spoke to @DouglasKMurray who reminded me of what @Ayaan said after the Charlie Hebdo massacre; speak up louder and spread the risk.
🚨⚪️⚫️ BREAKING: Yoane Wissa to Newcastle, here we go! Deal verbally agreed right now between the clubs.
Fee worth £55m package.
Brentford accept formal proposal from #NUFC and Wissa on his way for medical later today.
After Isak gone, Wissa and Woltemade join for Eddie Howe.
I've lived in Athens, in Eksarhia, since 2004. I studied theater drama, worked late nights in productions, and always saw myself as open-minded. I used to say, Let them come-refugees from war, they deserve safety. But last summer, something changed. Not my heart, but my reality. Every day, I took the bus to work in the city center. Traffic in Athens is a nightmare, so public transport is my life. One morning, I passed a man sleeping on the street near my bus stop. He wasn't just there-he shouted at me. Mean, angry words I couldn't understand. I froze, scared, and hurried past. It happened again the next day, louder. So, I changed my route. I walked a longer circle to avoid him, my heart racing each time I left home. He disappeared for a while. I felt relief. Then, he reappeared-right at the entrance of my building. My home. I work late in theater, coming back at midnight, sometimes later. There he was, lying on his bed of blankets, blocking my way. I started sneaking around the back of my building, circling in the dark just to feel safe. Me, a woman born in this country, tiptoeing around my own home. Then, not even a month later, I saw it on social media and the news. This man attacked a girl in broad daylight. She was walking her dog in a park, and he hit her with an iron, splitting her head open. She was in the hospital. I learned he'd been arrested before-twice-for attempted rape in my area. But each time, he was released. Why? Prisons are full, they said. He's a Palestinian war refugee, they said, protected by asylum laws. A police official came on TV and admitted it: even after this attack, the man would likely be free in six months. No space to hold him. I sat there, stunned, thinking: What is happening to my city? I'm not heartless. I've always felt for people fleeing war. But when someone hurts others-when they make women like me afraid to walk home-shouldn't that end their protection? Athens isn't the same anymore. There are areas in the center I won't go at night. Buses where I'm the only Greek, sometimes the only woman, surrounded by men staring. It's not about where they're from-it's about feeling safe. When I'm alone on that bus, my hands shake. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm scared. This isn't just my story. It's happening all over Athens. Undocumented immigrants, unrecorded, with no place to sleep, no jobs, no food. I don't blame them for wanting a better life. But when there's no system to track them, to house them, to integrate them, it's chaos. Greece is drowning. We can't take more people when we don't have space, when our prisons release attackers because there's no room, when our streets feel unsafe for women like me. I hear people like Elon Musk talking about this-saying Europe needs stricter rules, that we can't just open doors without knowing who's coming. I agree. Not because I hate anyone, but because I want my country to stay mine-safe, familiar. It's not about being fascist. It's about being honest. These immigrants, they come from places with different values. Not worse, just different. Where women, life, everything is seen differently. We can't pretend that doesn't matter. I've seen it on the streets, felt it in the stares. We need to acknowledge cultural differences to live together, not ignore them and hope for the best. Saying this doesn't make me racist. It makes me human. I'm scared when I walk home. I'm angry when I hear about girls attacked in parks. I'm frustrated when I see my city stretched to its breaking point, taking in people we can't support. They're not numbers-they're humans with needs. But so are we. If we take everyone, without papers, without plans, where will they sleep? How will they eat? What happens when those needs turn into crime because the system failed them too? I still believe in compassion. I want to help refugees, but not like this. We need documentation, names, backgrounds. We need homes for them, jobs, a way to blend into our culture while keeping Greece safe. Why is it so hard to say that? Why does admitting my fear make me feel like I'll be judged? How do we stay kind but protect our streets? How do we balance their safety with ours? I don't have all the answers. But I know this: I want to walk to my bus without circling in fear. I want Athens to feel like home again. And I want to say this out loud, in my voice, without being called names. Because this is my truth-and I know I'm not alone.