I'll show you politics in America. Here it is, right here. "I think the puppet on the right shares my beliefs.” “I think the puppet on the left is more to my liking." "Hey, wait a minute, there's one guy holding out both puppets!" - Bill Hicks
In every era of history, one constant prevails: the ruling classes have always sought to seize and hoard power, all the while cloaking their intentions in hollow promises of service to the public good. But let us dispense with illusions. This is not governance; this is theft—grand theft, orchestrated and executed over centuries by the same elite who claim to be the guardians of society. The tools have changed—from the sword to the dollar, from the scepter to the central bank—but the aim remains the same: to centralize control, to siphon wealth, and to bend the wills of individuals to the whims of the powerful.
Observe the story of William Paterson. He is no heroic figure, no titan of industry building on merit, but an opportunist—a pirate with the guile to grasp his moment in history. It was 1694. England lay prostrate, bled dry by the strain of endless war. Into this vacuum stepped Paterson, not as a savior but as a profiteer, prepared to exploit the desperation of a weakened nation. His offer was not aid, but a bargain: he would lend to the government on the condition that he, and he alone, be granted the power to establish a central bank. And thus, the Bank of England was born—not as a servant to the nation but as its master, a tool for controlling debt and currency, for regulating the flow of wealth, and, above all, for entrenching private power in the heart of public life.
This was the original blueprint for a heist, and Paterson’s genius was not merely in securing a lucrative arrangement but in creating a mechanism—a system, a machine—that would feed itself for centuries. Here was a new means of control: through debt, not decree; through financial servitude, not martial force. Wealth, no longer a reward for virtue and innovation, became instead a weapon, wielded by those who knew how to manipulate numbers and wield influence. From this foundation grew a vast empire, one in which the powerful ruled not by right or reason but by economic manipulation.
Fast forward to the crisis of 2008. The collapse was not an accident, nor an act of fate, but the inevitable result of a system rigged for exploitation. Subprime loans, complex derivatives, financial instruments created with the precision of an engineer but the ethics of a thief—these were the weapons of a new breed of piracy. This crisis was not a failure; it was a culmination, an explosion engineered by the same elites who had set the terms. And when it all came crashing down, the architects of this system did not pay the price. They were saved—not by ingenuity, but by the government, funded by the same taxpayers who bore the consequences of their actions. In this act of “bailout,” the ruling class had their victory: the heist was complete, and they emerged unscathed, wealthier and more entrenched than ever before.
2008 was not just a catastrophe; it was a revelation, an unmasking of a system built on lies. The financial elites revealed themselves, finally, as the predators they are. And yet, the heist was far from over. It continued to adapt, to exploit new crises. Take, for instance, the pandemic of 2020. As millions lost jobs and countless lives were disrupted, the wealth of the ruling elite swelled to levels unprecedented in human history. “Relief” intended for the suffering became another pipeline to the powerful, funneled into the coffers of corporations and financial institutions. The masses saw hardship; the elites saw opportunity. The ruling class had perfected its heist to such a degree that even in crisis, it found new ways to profit.
And so the cycle endures. The ruling classes now govern through the subtlest of methods, cloaked in the rhetoric of “public service” and “social responsibility.” The public is offered choices that mean nothing, served up candidates who represent different sides of the same interest. In the end, every policy, every law, every reform feeds into a system designed to keep the powerful in power, to enrich the elite at the expense of the individual. The pirate no longer wears a flag or wields a cutlass. He wears a suit, wields influence, and works quietly behind closed doors, manipulating markets and legislatures alike.
In the recent election, this same machinery was exposed once again, as elites deployed every tactic at their disposal to control the outcome. Through ballot harvesting, questionable polling, manipulated media, and even the specter of mass immigration aimed at altering the voter base, the ruling classes orchestrated an effort to rig the system in favor of their chosen candidates. They invested in media to distort narratives, controlled tech companies to filter information, and used bureaucratic maneuvering to prevent dissenting voices from breaking through.
But this time, the illusion failed. Against all odds, a powerful backlash swelled in response to this overt manipulation. Donald Trump, a man representing a discontented majority tired of being dismissed by the powerful, rose victorious. The win, more than a political event, marked a rebellion against a status quo that has stolen from the people their rightful voice in governance. And in reclaiming their voice, the public has begun to question the entire foundation of this system—a system that was never designed for them but was built to serve those at the top.
Yet, in this apparent victory, there is a deeper and more dangerous deception. Many who once claimed to oppose authority, who decried the state as an instrument of oppression, have merely shifted their allegiances, waiting for the “right” king to come along. They rejected centralized power only to embrace it the moment it wore the face of their favored leader. Trump is no anomaly, no salvation. He is simply another figure in the parade of power, another cog in the machinery of control that perpetuates this heist. The mechanisms of power are not undone by any single man; they are absorbed, adapted, used to consolidate the same agenda under a new dialectic. The same policies persist, repackaged in fresh language to sedate dissent. The people who might have resisted are lulled into complacency, told to “trust the plan,” while the heist goes on uninterrupted.
Those who believe “the deep state” is merely a partisan menace are blind to the bipartisan nature of this machine. This is no enemy to be defeated by one side; it is a nonpartisan mechanism of control that thrives on division, on manufactured opposition, on the illusion of choice. The deep state does not fear partisan victories; it feeds on them, tightening its grip with each cycle. Each election, each promise of reform, is a carefully crafted illusion to maintain the people’s faith in a system that serves only the powerful.
The story of Paterson is not a relic of history; it is the foundation of the modern world. His central bank was the cornerstone of a heist that has expanded over the centuries into the sprawling system we see today, a system that stands as an affront to every notion of individual freedom and achievement. Paterson’s creation is no monument to human ingenuity—it is a prison, a machine for ensuring that the wealth of the few will always outweigh the aspirations of the many.
But today, there is a stirring. The illusion has begun to crack. The people, weary and disillusioned, are beginning to see the system for what it is: a conspiracy against their lives and labor. They are realizing that no reform will end this theft, for the heist is too deeply embedded, its roots too intertwined with the mechanisms of governance itself. It cannot be reformed; it can only be overthrown. To reclaim their freedom, the people must demand the severing of the unholy alliance between wealth and state, the end of a system that sacrifices human potential on the altar of profit for the powerful.
This is not a call for revolution but for rebirth, for the creation of a new order where the individual is no longer a pawn in the game of elites. It is a call to tear down the walls of this fortress of exploitation and to build, in its place, a society where power and profit are once more linked to merit and achievement, where freedom is not a hollow word but the birthright of every individual.
The heist began centuries ago, and today it reaches its final crescendo. But with awareness comes resistance, and with resistance, the possibility of change. We stand on the precipice, with the chance to end this cycle of exploitation and create a new world—a world that values the individual not as a means but as an end in themselves. Let this be the era in which the age-old heist finally meets its end, in which the ruling class relinquishes its grip, and where freedom, ambition, and true merit are restored to their rightful place as the engines of society.
The ruling classes have written their narrative for centuries; now it is time for us to write ours. Let the final chapter of their heist be the beginning of our liberation.