…but wait until you find out how “let’s keep doing what we’re doing” benefits the rich!
It turns out all of the world’s billionaires have yachts, that can take them away from hoards of angry low IQ low status white males within minutes.
It’s 2030, Joe Sixpack from West Virginia closes Zerohedge.com for a minute, turns off Fox News, realizes that new ice age he was promised from the next solar minimum still hasn’t arrived and wonders to himself: “Well gee, I hope my poor sons Cletus and Billy-Bob don’t have to deal with these ever expanding droughts and heatwaves like this for the rest of their lives. Was I fooled by a bunch of greedy bastards? Say it ain’t so!”
He goes to his local Walmart, where he discovers there’s a long breadline, triggered by Saudi Arabia suddenly mysteriously buying bulk wheat imports for its own population a few weeks earlier after Belarus mysteriously stopped exporting fertilizer, which then led to Qatar buying wheat too, which led to Israel doing the same, which then led to global panic.
Beef became unaffordable to Joe a few years earlier already, for which he blamed “satan worshipping pedophiles at the WEF who want to tax our carbon and make us eat bugs”, like he learned through Twitter from the edgy memelords. But now he’s getting really worried. What’s going on?
He figures out the wealthy elites have been spreading doubt since the 1980’s through their network of libertarian think tanks. And he starts to realize he suffered Stockholm syndrome. “They create our jerbs” he’d parrot from his TV, while looking at video of some billionaire at a golf course, as he coughs up blood mixed with mucus and coal dust. Black lung disease is no joke.
The reality is that you shouldn’t work. If you don’t like your job and if poor people won’t drop dead because you stop doing it, then just don’t do it. The world’s elite has hoarded all the wealth, the distribution grows more unequal every year. The only way you can force them to raise wages is through labor shortages that start to affect them. Then they’re left with no other choice but to hand you some of the spoils of the industrial surplus. It’s the only thing that works.
Back to Joe. So now Joe is really angry, but it turns out the bastards have already left the premises. The world’s largest yacht belongs to the king of Abu Dhabi, it looks like this:
At number four we find the ruler of Dubai, at 8 the Saudi king, at 22 the Saudi heir. I won’t post them all, look at the list yourself here. I find a lot of gulf state Arabs and very few LSWMs.
My point is that LSWMs are useful idiots for these Arab oil sheikhs, who own the world’s largest yachts. “Woke climate change hysteria” the low status white male yells at his television screen like a properly trained monkey, as spit flies through the room.
If you teach him something is “woke”, he’ll hate it and the LSWM ayatollahs of the right have already declared climate change to be a woke infidel belief. He is a proper dhimmi, a proper Christian slave of the tiny region of the world that happens to have the most oil reserves.
These people don’t own these yachts for no reason. These things are not just toys, or part of a dick-measuring contest. If something happens, they leave. This is their ultimate backup plan. Bunkers? Sure some have bunkers in New Zealand. But you can just take these boats to international waters in the southern hemisphere. Nuclear explosions? They won’t affect you. Global food riots? They won’t lynch you. All your assets are seized? Well you still have your half a billion dollar boat.
In fact, have a look at where Salvator Mundi hung:
It hung in Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s yacht Serene until late 2020, when it was removed to a secret Saudi location while the yacht was in a Dutch shipyard for maintenance.
These dudes have their boats full of old paintings and other valuables, so that when shit hits the fan they can just set sail for a tropical island and don’t have to become Agile scrum developers or start picking up the phone as a customer service representative somewhere.
Oh, just to throw the low status white males another bone. Have a look at this…
It belongs to the heir to the 4th baron Rothschild, who moved to Switzerland. It comes in at place 178 for length, (hey, the water is cold here compared to the Arab gulf).
It has a nice helicopter landing pad, for when you’re being chased by angry low status white males (probably in mobility scooters, if you low IQ morons keep following the keto diet). Which might just happen, because Mr. Rothschild made his fortune by…
In July 2010, Vallar Plc, a Jersey-incorporated investment vehicle Rothschild founded, raised £707.2 million in an Initial public offering on the London Stock Exchange. Vallar is led by Rothschild and James Campbell, a former Anglo American PLC coal and base metals chief.
In November 2010, Vallar announced it was buying stakes for $3bn in two listed Indonesia thermal coal (used for power stations) producers for a combination of cash and new Vallar shares, with a view to combining them to create the largest exporter of thermal coal to China, India, and the other emerging economies of Asia
Ah yes. The eternal coal exporter. By 2030 Joe Sixpack will have figured out it’s not an elitist communist socialist hysterical hoax after all. He will chase down Mr. Rothschild to his helicopter, where Mr. Rothschild will safely explain to Mr. Sixpack from behind bullet-proof glass that CO2 is plant food, it used to be much higher back when dinosaurs walked the Earth and China and India are the real problem. And as Joe angrily clings onto his helicopter, now starting to sound like an autistic Swedish teenager, the baron will land on his yacht, crushing him in half along his patriotic freedom-loving beer belly.
Too late Joe.
In West Virginia, Cleetus and Billy-Bob will start hunting deer, until they come to the realization there are 350 million freedom-loving patriots in the US of A and just 35 million deer, so this will last them a few weeks at most, until they become carrion for the crows themselves. That will be the end of the Sixpack dynasty, House Sixpack, or whatever you want to call them.
Sic transit gloria mundi.