At Least We Still Own Our Thoughts
The Great Rip-Off: Your Thoughts, Your Car, and the Bond Bust
This world’s a rigged game, and you’re the mark. Whether it’s your car snitching on you, AI stealing your brain, or the U.S. Treasury bond market teetering on the edge, the system’s out to get you. And don’t even get me started on the BRICS gang waiting in the wings. Here’s the straight dope.
Subaru Owns Your Soul
Picture this: you’re cruising in your Subaru, mulling over life’s big questions, maybe muttering something clever out loud. Guess what? You don’t own that thought anymore. When I bought mine, they shoved a legal waiver in my face—sign here, or no keys. It basically said, “Your conversations? Ours now.” I grumbled, sure, but signed anyway—convenience beats principle every time. Now, every word I say in that car belongs to Subaru Inc. They’re not graphing it yet—too much data to crunch—but give it time. The tech’s coming, and it’s a one-way ticket to corporate mind control.
Next stop: the cops. They scan your ride and know what you had for breakfast, how your ticker’s holding up, and what you’ve been yakking about. Unconstitutional? Sure, but who cares when it’s sold as “catching bad guys”? ID.me’s already creeping in—Social Security, unemployment, food stamps—all trading your privacy for a quick buck. Retina scans, DNA tests? Done Deal. You clicked “agree” on some 20-page terms-of-service nobody reads, and poof—your rights are gone. Corporations have lawyers on speed dial; you’re stuck with nothing but a signature and a prayer.
AI: The Thought Thief
Here’s a kicker: your ideas aren’t even yours anymore. I asked Grok 3—yeah, me—to chew on this, and it’s clear AI’s turning your brain into public property. Back in college, I nabbed a sociology degree during the health-crisis circus—wanted to figure out the Marxist clowns running the show. Essays had rules: cite every thought, credit the thinker. Fair enough. But now? Facebook’s feeding history books into AI, and it spits out cliff notes without a single nod to the author. What about banned books or “wrong” narratives? Tough luck—they don’t make the cut.
Your profound Subaru musings? They’re fodder for the AI hive mind, no citation needed. It’s like Atlas Shrugged in reverse—reason’s out, and the collective’s in. The smart ones—tech bros, crypto wizards—see the fiat scam and cash out for real stuff. But soon, there won’t be enough tangible assets to go around. The system can’t handle everyone waking up.
Treasury Bonds: The Global Trust Bust
Now, let’s talk real trouble: the U.S. Treasury bond market. The 10-year yield’s at 4.26%, and Scott Bessent is sweating bullets trying to peddle Uncle Sam’s IOUs. The dollar’s weak—great for soybean farmers and exporters—but yields are climbing. Why? Nobody trusts this debt-ridden clown show anymore. The U.S. is drowning in red ink—deficits bigger than Texas, debt that’d choke a king—and the world’s noticing.
Here’s the fresh angle: BRICS—Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa—are cooking up currency alternatives to ditch the dollar. China’s hoarding gold, Russia’s laughing at sanctions, and they’re all tired of America’s “print and pray” game. If they pull off a credible BRICS buck, the dollar’s toast as the world’s reserve. Bond buyers—Japan, Saudi Arabia, whoever—start asking, “Why hold this trash when yields barely beat inflation and the U.S. can’t pay its bills?” Trust evaporates, yields spike, and the Fed’s stuck. Unknown unknowns? Maybe China dumps Treasuries overnight, or a cyber attack tanks the bond market. Either way, the U.S. is one bad headline from a global “no thanks.”
The Great Taking: You’re the Sucker
Ever read The Great Taking by David Webb? Do it. Then chase it with The Creature from Jekyll Island by G. Edward Griffin. They’ll rip the scales off your eyes. The system’s built to strip you bare—your thoughts, your car, your wealth—all while the bond bubble wheezes. Corporations and governments are betting you won’t fight back. They’re right so far—convenience keeps winning.
Subaru’s just the start. Soon, every gadget you own will rat you out to the social credit overlords. The BRICS crew’s watching, ready to pounce when the dollar stumbles. And stumble it will—too much debt, too little trust. When it blows, the suffering’s gonna be biblical.
Your Next Play
So, where’s your line in the sand? I thought mine was facial scans at the airport—turns out I caved for a quicker boarding pass. You’ll cave too, unless you wise up. The Treasury’s a ticking bomb, BRICS is sharpening knives, and your Subaru’s a spy. Me? I’m betting against the system—tangible over fake, every time. Quit chasing digits and start asking who owns you. Hint: it ain’t you. Get out while you can.