swiss-cheese banks! “deeee-lish,” says the lizard-guys who wear the skinsuits

as the financial world continues to unravel (is unravel the word? is disintegrate better?), i was reading about the end of something that i found incomprehensible, that being the secrecy of the “swiss bank account.”
the bullshit quotient that the financial “wizards” let loose on the world in the past ….oh, let’s say the past eight years, has caused such a meltdown that swiss business practices dating back to the middle ages have disintegrated.
imagine that.
the place historically used in every spy, cold-war and international intrigue film since sound joined celluloid up until the cayman islands became greed-gluttony central in the 1990s (btw/ an out of the way, sunny farm colony originally set up by – you guessed it – those con-artistic, grifting-lizards from mars) has opened its books to investigators because it’s just gotten that utterly out of control and humanity cannot unravel the power of the late mister thurwell’s extraordinary U.M.B.O. boxes.
the houses of cards over history never reached the matterhorn.
this is the matterhorn;

the bullshit has finally been piled that high.
the financial fabric of this planet resembles punkrock fishnets which is cool if it’s 1981 and you’ve just dyed your hair pink –

i would make these guys

dress like this –

for the duration of the investigation and trial.
there will be trials.

i don’t expect justice.
the con is too great and there’s too many weasels linked too closely together.
the chance of a fair shake is about as great as glinting along the same molecular path twice in the same space-time continuum as you sparkle by the eighth electro-plasma ocean of the ninth dimension, atomically waving at the lizards in lounge chairs reading timesmut, where none but we flickering magic machines can giggle at them as they do us, way back here on this earth-farm for lizardly lunches.

i don’t know if the fantasy of this world’s economy can survive the doings of the interstellar farming community of my acquaintances who live under the dunes just east of the irish riviera. i will expound upon this as i gather my pics and speak of “gulls and gall, bulls and balls” in my next installment.

About stephen trimboli

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