money - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
What is a butterfly worth? Or a thousand butterflies dancing in the summertime? What is the worth of one tree, or a forest, or the life that dwells within? What is the worth of a child's laughter? What do we owe another for unconditional love? Do we comprehend the difference between priceless and worthless? Or do we place this concept of trading possessions on the same plane as the value of all creation? Can we pull them apart in our brains and see that one is a negotiation of goods and the other is the good?
Money is a manifestation of power; power is a manifestation of fear; so we cannot be free of fear while we have money. In our fear, we are destroying our planet. What are we afraid of? Mostly, we fear destroying our planet. This is our insanity. I believe that a slow demonetization of the globe, while keeping our vital industries strong, ethical and environmentally conscious, is the way to a sane and peaceful Earth.
"Captain Kirk never checked his bank balance or moaned about 'over time,' he lived for the mission. Know what your mission is, Cassandra, and you will always have purpose. Money doesn't matter and it never did."
The money in that wasteland was ice. The desert heat stole into every dwelling and left no sanctuary. Every tree had been sold, every piece of flora coveted and claimed. The ice cost an arm and a leg, a heart if there was one to be found, yet it melted, evaporated, leaving the hoarder with empty pockets and a mouth more dry than the wind blown sand.
So why so much talk about Kitty? Why all this? Well, anyone not awakened is a "sleeper" a "modern zombie" and they all choose money over life, every day. When money is worth more than life we build factories that pollute the planet so that a few people can be billionaires. We buy factory farmed meat instead of eating mostly plants and having ethical meat less often. As nations we hoard food while other nations starve - just because they can't pay for it we'll let it rot. It leads to the factory farming animals as sacred as our beloved pets. It leads to big pharma demanding hundreds of dollars for a vaccine that cost them two dollars to make, holding us all to ransom so that they can line the pockets of their share holders. It leads banks to gather billions of dollars and use their influences to get richer at the expense of both developing countries and the average citizen struggling to make ends meet. And if you think you don’t have what it takes to save Kitty, I’m going to introduce you to someone who knows you better than that. But you'll have to be quiet, they're quite shy.
Now we aren’t talking about Kitty. Now it’s you. I know where you are right now, you know I do and I’ve been paid a dollar to kill you with some cheese wire. A dollar? How silly, not enough money, right? That’s what I said too. I said I wouldn’t consider it for less than ten million. Then I’ll get my cat suit on, pick up a pistol and climb in your window tonight. Just kidding! I could be offered any amount of power or money and you (and Kitty) would be perfectly safe, so stop fading away already, I already told you I don’t like it when you go so transparent. Have some backbone! Plus I said I like you, will you try to remember what I said?
Anyway, in the words of Bob Marley, “Life is worth much more than gold, neither can be bought or sold.” I accept that life is sacred and worth more than money, which means that I can’t be paid or bribed to kill either of you. Money isn’t even real, not bank account digits anyway, why would you be worth less than fictitious digits? Crazy, right?! Now we’re back to our last conclusion - if life is worth more than money then it always is. If your life is worth more than a cent, it’s worth more than all the money man can invent. There can never be another you, that's how special you are.
On the counter over there is a large gold coin, heavy, worth a thousand dollars. If you can have it, if you kill Kitty. What are you going to do now? If you have enough food to eat and secure shelter and you've already mentally picked up that knife, taken the coin, you have chosen that life is worth less than money. Don’t feel bad about that, our culture trains you that greed is good, but it does make you a sleeper, a zombie. Almost everyone has a price. If you chose to save Kitty, well done, but I suspect you are better fed than most of the planet. If you're poor and hungry and you chose to save Kitty, then hats off to you. If you feel that anyone who chose to kill Kitty is immoral, try the next one.
If you kill Kitty you get ten coins of gold, a hundred coins, a million coins. Kitty gets it right? You’ve killed the Kitty now, I know you have. Lucky for Kitty she’s really here, in my reality, and you aren’t, so she gets is a saucer of milk. I know all the justifications. With that gold "I could pay for an operation my mother needs," "food for a month for my whole family or I’d never have to work again!" The principle again, that you’ve accepted, is that this kitten is worth less than money. If I’m honest, if my kids needed something vital, life or death type situation, I’d kill her too. But at that point it’s a life vs life choice, not really life vs money any more. When we use our money to support factory farming it isn't like any of the scenarios above, it's worse. You aren't being paid to torture and kill an animal, you are paying someone else to do it so you can eat it. Pigs and cows are both smart with emotions, feelings, just like Kitty. So whether it's lentils or meat from ethical sources, change is overdue. All life is sacred, does our system honour or defile them? And in the process, does it honour or defile us?
The porter let the coin lie in the middle of his palm, as if it were a live beetle, and darted to the light of the carriage to examine the beast, exclaiming volubly.
Oh my gosh! You’re here! I thought up the best “get rich quick” scheme ever and it’s so simple, so easy. No work really, do you have a printer at home? If not, we can use mine. We’re gonna be richer than Warren Buffet before he got all charitable. Anyway, sit down, make yourself comfortable, I’ve got to be quick. Apparently we’re meeting Dakota soon. So here it is, we’re going to make a new currency called the Squid. Only we can print it, in fact, if anyone else prints any we’re gonna have then in jail for counterfeit, it’s only real when you and I make it.
Now here’s the cool part, when people don’t have enough Squids they come to us for a loan (with interest!) **exciting!** All we do is enter the number of Squids we lend them on a computer screen, no need to even print anything. Then they work their arses off for their whole lives to pay us back in Squids. But that isn’t the best bit of the plan, once we’ve flooded the market with cheap loans we say, “Oh no! Too much inflation,” and raise interest rates, make loans harder. Unemployment will rise and they’ll all start to default on loans. That’s when the real fun starts. We seize their property, houses, land, cars etc. Keep that going a few generations and our families will rule the world! Crazy, right? Oh, hang on, God’s telling me something.
He says that scheme was implemented a long time ago, in fact, that is how the global money system really works. He says there is plenty for everyone on Earth but I should tell you more about that another day. Shit. That mean’s we’re the slaves. Ah, well, I guess I’ll just go back to being God’s messenger angel then. At least saving the world means saving something real, right? I guess that means yesterday we were discussing if we should kill Kitty for digits on a computer screen. Is the whole world nuts? Sometimes I think it is.
The money lay cold in her hand. It wasn't until that moment she realized what she had done. She had traded life for metal and paper. She had chased it with singular desire, with lust. She was a traitor. Now the corrupt powers had no opposition to building the new factory, the rebellion was dead and she had handed them over simply for financial gain. The industry would pollute the land for generations to come, spilling it's poison into the rivers. She closed her hand around the currency, she would need this to fight them, in the name of those she betrayed she would stop them. Even if it meant her life.
When he was young money meant food. Then later it was a house and a family. But after his business exploded, in a good way, and he became more wealthy than any lottery winner, it became just digits. Numbers with many zeros. In an epiphany one day while playing golf with his old friends, he began to see it differently again. These static, lifeless numerals could be water for a village, mosquito nets and vaccines. It could fight cancer, give a dying child their wish or help stop deforestation. And so he became a philanthropist, but one no-one ever heard of. As he descended the rich list he announced that he had lost it in bad investments. He was shy.
Inga could see the glint of silver in the drain. Money. Her arm was spindly, little more than bone and skin, and so she reached through with ease. As her fingers closed around it's cool surface she could almost taste the rice and vegetables. She withdrew her arm and slid the coin into her pocket. It was her secret. This wasn't enough to feed her eight brothers but for her it meant a stop to the gnawing hunger, if only for a night. She kept her face unsmiling to hide her fortune, only the rice seller would need to know.
Jesus said "You cannot serve both God and money." (Matthew 6:24 NIV)
Take away the world that deals in money and give me one that deals in love. We need assurance, not insurance. We need to save people, not money. We need to take interest in the well being of our fellow man, not interest on money loaned. The only real "account" is with our creator and he keeps no record of wrongs, only pours out love and asks that we do the same.
To the poor money is survival; to the rich it is one of two things - bondage or ransom. Keep it and the poor stay in bondage, be generous and ransom their freedom.
Money, turning the best of people corrupt. Desperate and greedy, temped by the circles of gold and pieces of paper.
It's all just a cycle, really.
We're born into this world, whether we want to or not, then we're sent to school.
Why? So we can get an education.
Why? So we can get a job.
Why? So we can earn money.
Why? So we can send our children, who we forced into this world just like our parents did to us, to school.
Why? So they can earn money.
And the cycle continues.
This money thing, yeah, its got us in the pound, as if were all bad dogs that need caging up; are they afraid for us to be free? Because I believe in a king them banks ain't banking on, and ain't no-one gonna ban my king, not the one I'm seeking; if's between God and money, we're busting out, doin' good for god.