Well, here we be — the timeless blasphemy
of equating paper and coins, cold cash to
divinity.
Money has become the planet’s favorite deity-by-default. It answers
prayers (if you can afford the offering),
opens doors (if you know the secret
handshake), and punishes sinners (i.e., the
broke) with ruthless consistency.
But despite its omnipresence, money
doesn't love you. It doesn’t forgive. It
doesn't cure loneliness, heal the sick, nor
raise the dead. No, money will not sit beside
you on your deathbed whispering sweet
assurances. It will be busy elsewhere —
perhaps clutched in the manicured hands of
your greedy heirs plotting the funeral budget
on one screen and online shopping on the
other.
Likewise, God — at least in concept —
transcends materialism. If your version of God is reduced
to a walking, talking Wall Street banker, that
says far more about you than the Almighty. God doesn’t
check credit scores or broker hedge funds. Any
“prosperity” pushing pastor/pimp
who tells you otherwise while cruising
his Bentley to the bank, with your hard earned
moo-lah is conning you harder than a three card monte dealer in Times Square.
Astonishingly,
believe it or not, "rich people aren’t
better than poor people." But
oh, how
they wish they were. Unquestionably
we live in a society that still clings to the
poisonous idea that wealth
equals worth. If
you're rich, surely you must be smarter, more
disciplined, and morally superior — right? You
were chosen by capitalism's invisible
hand, after
all! Or maybe you were just born into it,
married into it, inherited it, finagled it or
stumbled across it in a Vegas poker game.
The burning bush truth? Rich people are
often luckier, ruthless, better
connected, or simply less
encumbered by ethical hang-ups. Money Lovers
can place money well above their children and
spouses, devote more time, energy and, yes money
to attaining mo’ moo-lah. Money shields them
from accountability, sanitizes their sins, and
gives their ignorance an Instagram filter called “success.”
But better? No. Not remotely. You can be
rich and still be petty. Still be cruel. Still
be stupid. Still fragile enough to need three
therapists, two maids, five nannies, 179
high-fashion watches, Benzs and BeeMers and a
Swiss banker just to get through brunch.
I thought Jesus drove a 73’ Pinto wagon
and shopped at GoodWill….?
Meanwhile, poor people navigate daily
survival with grit,
innovation, and a degree of
improvisational genius the ultra-wealthy couldn’t summon in a
zombie apocalypse. Being broke doesn’t make
you noble — but it sure as hell doesn’t make
you inferior either.
Let’s
keep walkin’ n’ talkin’: "Your
greatest fools are your educated fools."
And
yeah, they are the absolute
worst kind.
Give a fool an e-book and they’ll misquote it.
Give them any form of academic credentials and
they’ll frame it and weaponize it.
Give them tenure or a platform and suddenly
they become self-appointed sages spouting
convoluted nonsense with the smug assurance of
someone who once got an “A” in Econ 101.
Educated fools are the ones who can quote
Plato but can't hold a basic conversation
without condescension. They're the think-tank
intellectuals who theorize about poverty while
stepping over the homeless on the way to a
conference about "economic mobility." They are
the Phds who can't change a tire or explain
anything in simple terms because they have
deliberately confused complexity with intelligence.
History is littered with them:
technocrats who engineered recessions,
scientists who built bombs, and scholars who
justified genocide — all armed with degrees
but devoid of wisdom, empathy, or common
sense.
Boiled to its ugly essence, put simply —
the brutal trifecta boils down to this: — here
we are in 21st-century America, aka Dollywood for
the Deranged, where the filthy rich are canonized,
the struggling are crucified, and the
intellectually useless sit smugly atop the
throne of madness.
We teach our kids that money is the finish
line, that rich people are role
models, and that degrees are tickets
to salvation.
And yet:
● The market crashes and billionaires jump
out of skyscraper windows.
● The working poor keep the nation running
while being called “lazy.”
● And our "thought leaders" write books
about morality while dodging taxes and
harassment lawsuits.
Stop me when I’m lying.
At the end of your little personal
story, money won’t save you. Neither will your
degrees or your aristocratic social status.
You can’t pray your way into a tax
bracket or study your way out of mortality,
that’s small, simple-minded wishful thinking.
What matters — as quietly as society
wants to admit it — is character,
compassion, resilience, and the kind of common
sense that doesn’t require a syllabus or a
trust fund.
The sooner we collectively wake up to
this, the sooner we can stop bowing at the
altar of moneyed morons, unlearn the worship of rich idiots, and finally see through the smoke and
mirrors sold to us by educated fools in overpriced suits with empty
souls.
Cash registers for hearts, value meters
as brains….
And if you need living, breathing,
swaggering proof of this grotesque trifecta —
look no further than Donald Trump,
Vladimir Putin, and their minions, both male and female, who dutifully
parade behind them like deranged pageant
contestants vying for the tiara of
authoritarian approval.
Oh
why can’t the blind see?
Trump — the gaudy, gold-plated messiah of
the morally bankrupt — has long mistaken money for God. In his warped gospel, wealth sanctifies
sin, absolves fraud, and magically transforms
sexual predators into “very fine people.” His
true church? Mar-a-Lago. His sermons? Rage
tweets and incoherent rants. His commandments?
Loyalty, flattery, and above all — cash only,
no refunds.
Putin? He plays God and the Monopoly
Game banker — simultaneously deciding
who lives, who dies, and who mysteriously
falls out of hotel windows after criticizing
him. He does not see money as God.
He sees himself as God, and money is merely the studded leash he
holds over oligarchs, nations, and fearful
citizens forced to tithe with their silence.
And their enablers — oh, the many, many
minions.
Those educated fools with Ivy League degrees twisting
themselves into doughy pretzels on Fox
News, Russia Today, and conspiracy MAGA blogs explaining
why democracy is “overrated.” The rich-but-not-better
sycophants, from corporate executives to
performative patriots in $366 flag pins, ready
to torch the US Constitution in exchange for
tax breaks and autographed copies of "The Art
of the Deal." The wannabe gods, perched high but empty inside — using
money, influence, and titles not to elevate
humanity but to crush dissent beneath imported
Italian loafers.
In the end, Trump and Putin — avatars of
the era’s most toxic illusions — prove the
point elegantly:
Money isn’t
God. God isn’t money. Rich people aren’t better. And the
world’s greatest dangers come wearing diplomas
and designer suits, babbling nonsense in
polished tones while democracy burns quietly
in the background.
So here we are.
A planet held hostage by billionaires who
think wealth makes them divine, by tyrants who
play God with nuclear codes, and by
credentialed clowns who weaponize their
education to justify corruption, cruelty, and
chaos.
Trump and Putin — call them
the twin apostles of greed and grievance
— stand at the pulpit, preaching to
choirs of the clueless. Their sermons? Lies
dressed as truth. Their hymns? Fear, division, and the
sweet lullaby of authoritarian comfort. Their
congregation? Rich cowards,
educated fools, and desperate zealots convinced that ass kissin’ counts as patriotism.
But make no mistake: Money is not
God. God does not count votes in rubles
or NFTs. The rich are not your betters —
only better shielded. And your most
dangerous fools? They wear robes, suits, and
doctoral hoods, smiling smugly as they turn
liberty into ashes.
History has seen this play before. It
ends badly. But here’s the twist: we are not
extras in their tragedy.
We are the ones — poor or rich, educated
or street-schooled — who must finally stop
mistaking power for
wisdom, wealth for virtue, and propaganda
for truth. Because if we don’t, the Trumps and
Putins of the world will be more than happy to
finish the story for us. Check this: They’re not prophets. They’re
profit-hustlers with thin-ass sheepskins.
And news flash? We won’t all live happily
ever after! It won’t be a happy ending.
