Once we speak about the forecasts where the respected Celente deals with the current global economic disaster, I thought – who knows why – that maybe I should treat them with a bit more respect. Try to read and interpret them decently, not to say cooperatively, even deadly seriously. Maybe the knowledge and skills of this man could be useful for me, especially to me and to us who feel quite inferior in globalist issues, and hereditary scared of the economic Scillas and Haribdas, aware that we understand them only as much as it is necessary for bare survival. Or, to say it simply, to plan the simplest home budget, that should keep us from the first to the first in the month. Those of us who really feel fiscally and formally and legally insecure, not to say helpless, are told by our sane mind that we – nevertheless! – need to unavoidably rely on some proven international authorities, able to advise us how to deal with the hardship that we encounter in these unstable constellations that we live in at the moment. To survive, eventually, with a saving dose of laughter and forgetfulness.
There, I admit that I read the famous Celente with such serious intentions. And with full confidence. I almost said: with idolatry. I read and I deeply contemplated his Ten Commandments for the Common Man¸ which I understand as some metonymic ten commandments. If I firmly grab their steering wheel, I might manage to outsmart the disaster that rolls down our streets threatening.
What is hidden in Celente’s saving Decalogue?
Reading him, I noticed that as many as half of his firm maxims ultimatively prescribe strict and full saving: don’t spend, don’t go for summer and winter holidays, don’t shop, don’t generate debt… OK, I said, I know this. I learnt it when I was a child from my practical and rational mother who (however) never studied economy. If I am not mistaken, I used to live like this – saving and disciplined. As much as I could see, all of my close friends lived in the same rational way, but it still did not help them completely prevent the disaster that we are all facing now.
What is then the secret? Most probably in the second five maxims. They must be the key. I should fully concentrate on them.
This is what Celente wisely says and advises there:
I should move as close as possible to a drinking water source because – very soon, maybe tomorrow… – our postmodern world will stop waging wars because of oil and gas and start to wage a war for water.
That I should have my own piece of land and urgently turn it into a garden where I will produce organic food, because – very soon, maybe tomorrow… – the world will remain without any healthy food.
That I should direct my children (OK, my grandchildren) solely to medicine studies or to those studies that educate in alternative energy sources, because only medicine and alternative energy can save the humanity.
That always and in all situations, but really in all, I should think positively, because it has been confirmed and proven that every great depression is followed by a time of general boom, for certain.
That, in the meantime – until this general boom starts – I must invest all of my money (what money?) into buying gold bars, because, due to the speculation policies of the incompetent world governments, all the paper money will soon become less valuable even from the paper that they are printed on. Thus, the whole world economy will have to redirect to gold. Solely and exclusively.
Yes, I almost forgot the most important.
Celente is certain that the current crisis will not only stop, but that it will escalate. It will then culminate in year 2012, which he calls The Year of Bottom. Or, more precisely, the year of the end of the world as we know it. This year can not be anything else, but fatal, because it is on its end – 12 December – that the Maya calendar cycle ends, and the whole galaxy should be balanced and reordered. The New Age followers say that it is at that moment – 12 December 2012 – that new and still unknown/unresearched channels of awareness will be open, and the humanity, whether it wants or not, will have to undergo an unprecedented transformation. More or less it means that already in two short years we will all experience some real and absolutely radical renaissance, which should find us digging our garden, drinking the water from the clear mountain springs, and – most importantly – buying gold bars.
I don’t know about you, but this smells like an ordinary media manipulation to me. Is it because – informed and well read by profession but (precisely because of this) suspicious/sceptical by birth – I have a slight feeling that Celente and his learned colleagues-prophets collectively pull our leg? It is not only the most awful, but also the most insulting that they shamelessly underestimate our collective intelligence when doing this. Or, let me be more objective, the intelligence of at least some of us.
*
That similar manipulations have already happened in this world of ours – in far more innovative and creative forms – can be confirmed, I think, by piles of respected works of art from the past. Not only literary works of art.
I will remind of one of them, ingenious in its idea, manipulative in its result, but also absolutely artificial/aesthetised in its being.
Some seventy years ago, on 30 October 1938, the young actor, director and script writer Orson Welles (1915-1985) upset the Americans (millions of Americans!), still naïve with respect to the media at that moment. They, the naïve ones, swallowed his strange dramatization of the legendary science fiction novel The War of the Worlds on their radios. And they were petrified.
Written as early as 1898, as an authentic product of the imagination of Herbert George Wells (1866-1946), this ingenious novel in which the Martians attack the planet Earth has been adapted and screened many times. If I am not mistaken, the latest one was signed by Steven Spielberg some five years ago (2005). Of course, none of these later media transpositions managed to produce the scary (and spying) real-effect that will be a permanent feature only of the first one, Orson Welles’s.