Jubilant Banking

In the Old Testament, in the Book of Leviticus, it spoke of a time every 50 years of great rejoicing. Slaves were freed, prisoners released and all debts were forgiven. A merciful God was celebrated. It was to be announced by the blowing of a Ram's horn, during that year's Yom Kippur. Amazingly, Jubilee is still practiced to this day. Those that control our economy, the very ones that piloted us into this morass, are celebrating their Jubilee at this very moment. Here's how it happened.

Once upon a time, in the City on the hill, all of the people, called regular citizens, elected some of their friends to watch over their kingdom and the river of money that flowed through the kingdom from their labor. The elected citizens appointed others they knew to become their minions. The elected and their minions over many years became the special citizens. As time passed, and their power grew, the special citizens forgot about their friends back home.

Slowly, a little at a time, the special citizens felt that they were no longer answerable to those that had elected them. Their possession of power made them feel invincible, much unlike their old friends, the regular citizens. The minions, with their unique position, were able to take all of the money from the river and repackage it in their workshops. Those who lived and worked in the house of laws were no longer looking. They were busy creating special funds for their personal gain and making sure they would retain their power.

Unwatched, the minions created imaginary creatures, called debt swaps, collateralized debt obligations, collateralized loan obligations, and with complete impunity built an idol of paper. Now, the minions knew that this paper idol was a mirage, but the money flowed mightily in the river and the idol produced extra shares of the river for the minions, who then hired the elected special citizens when they retired. They would then share in the extra shares. Now, no minion would reveal the truth, as who would be silly enough to announce that "the King has no clothes"?

Then one day, a storm came. The wind blew and the river, penned up in the paper idol's grip, escaped and washed away businesses, homes, lives. The imaginary paper idol came tumbling down. No one could be found to stop the torrent. The minions all scrambled for cover, waiting for the blizzard of worthless paper to cease. Oh, how they bemoaned the aftermath of the disaster. Fingers were pointed in every direction, heads bobbing in wonder, they had endless theories about how the whole thing was a fool's paradise of someone else's making. "What shall we do", they nervously queried to stop the panic out there? "I know", said one! "Let's create stories for the media fairies, then implore our brothers in the house of laws to turn their river of money back into our other storehouses." "Huzzah" they all shouted.

With the media fairies buzzing around them, hanging on their every word, the special citizens worked their magic, some of the minions were even appointed to operate the floodgates, diverting the river of money back into their storehouses. A lone soldier that worked for the special citizens, a regular citizen himself, stirred from the corner of the workshop and asked, "What of the regular citizens. What happens to them?" The special citizens all roared with laughter. "You silly fool", they snorted, "What's good for us is good for all". And they turned and began twisting and turning the levers to divert the regular citizens' river of money into their coffers.

As the river of money flowed back into their storehouses, the media fairies joining in the chorus of "we must save the minions", all sins were forgiven for the special citizens and the seas and skies began to calm. The minions known as "bankers" collected the fresh money, counting each dollar and loaning out none. They watched silently from their glass cubes as their neighbors, the regular citizens, packed up and left their homes, while cars were towed away on trucks with hooks and factory doors were padlocked for good. They turned their heads back to their counting machines, watching their mistakes get washed away.

The lone soldier, not to be dissuaded, spoke again. "Why not turn the river of money back to the regular citizens. They could live in their homes, drive your cars, buy your goods and gasoline?" One special citizen, turned red-faced to the soldier, "You idiot, they don't know what's good for them." The soldier then added, "But what if the regular citizens come to the castle walls and demand their money back?" The angry special citizen then sneeringly replied, "We'll just go to our brothers in the house of laws and they will make new laws. It's really for their own good." And the Ram's horn stayed silent.