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    We are but puppets of interests, hoping for the same profit or gain! The only moral voice of the soul that lurks silently in the secret tunnels of our personality, the voice that says: "Remain a man of human conscience", is quickly and immediately forgotten, like a sudden, apparent flush of shark's fins!

    - As if we were the only well-planned chess pieces of Damocles' decrees, doomed to mortality and numbered chess pieces of existence: pawns and sinning and weak scarlet criminals of this age that tests man and turns everything and everyone against him! - When we, with our positions of hoped-for career and rank, walk into all the donkey-ladder buildings of the big corporations that eat up all the money, and trample them underfoot with our involuntary and blameworthy conviction: those who have really tried to be useful to the labour market by producing profit! Today, our intellect still dreams deep in its Procrustean bed, because it can hardly do otherwise: Moral Humanity! 

    - To reckon what is covetous interest, disguised and bribed treachery, ruthlessly trampling over the heads of others in exchange for greater achievement, and everything that is susceptibly efficient that can only stand and be worth something on the account of a secure livelihood and an aspiring breadwinner! - See, with the glare of our wide-open souls, we are: all interest, all struggle for existence, all struggle, all determined trampling, if self-satisfaction demands revenge!

    Our allies: money, bribability, influenceability, and salability! We trample others underfoot without blinking, for the sake of the greasy bankers and moneyed masses led by vested interests! Because we are only puppets to be sold and bought, our life is a life and death struggle, a struggle for a living: the perfect trap, the shackle-force: obeying the orders of the corruptible!

    Have we killed off the humanity of the well-meaning man, in order to fit perfectly into the money-machine of the great giant, whose milling wheel of profit, more than a million in number, wishes to crush the emotions of human goodness? We are babies! Enemies of those who have not yet sold their own inestimable personality to a single superior power!

    And because we are babies and mere servants of society, has the protection of the heritage of the mother tongue become superfluous? Have we forgotten forever: our understanding acceptance of the Good Man, the etiquette of chivalry, and the wishes of our fragile heartstrings, prone to romanticism? - Perhaps, because we simply trample on those who say otherwise with a clear conscience!

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