In the near future, property ownership will be the preserve (and the right) of the few. Millions will live in mega-cities and pay rent (or if not, become a member of the homeless-class, of which there will be hundreds of thousands per city), and their jobs will pay only enough buy necessities from State producers…The wage compression from mass-immigration will see to this.
That's the globalist/GOPe vision.
Destruction of the west is goal. Freedom, Christianity, individualism — all of it gone.
Replaced by a brutal and oppressive totalitarian socialism.
Every liberal is a violent totalitarian thug.
Most jobs are being automated. The real reason is much more sinister. I believe it’s population replacement.
The people really in power, the powers that be, are thinking 500 years into the future. This is what Brezinski said in the 1970s. For a world government to work they need a dumbed-down lower class. They’ve been working toward this goal since at least 1910. The Reece Commission confirmed this on 1953.
rest:
And what of the migrants and the native populations of their host countries? They will be moved into cities which will grow larger and larger. No one will be permitted to live in the countryside because this would entail property ownership by an entity who is not “The State” (just look at what’s happening to farmers all over America today). In 2008/2009, the largest transfer of private property in history took place (non-war related). Homeowners lost their homes to the Banks that were responsible for the crash in the first place (and were subsequently bailed out by the very taxpayers whose homes they were seizing). And what are the banks doing with all of these newly acquired properties and lands? Almost nothing. The majority of these properties are just sitting vacant, being used as assets on a balance sheet. And of course the lack of movement keeps areas economically stagnant.
In the near future, property ownership will be the preserve (and the right) of the few. Millions will live in mega-cities and pay rent (or if not, become a member of the homeless-class, of which there will be hundreds of thousands per city), and their jobs will pay only enough buy necessities from State producers…The wage compression from mass-immigration will see to this.
There will be one central governing body (styled after the European Union which is the prototype), and laws will be regulated and exactly the same in every city across the globe.
This is the real purpose of enforced mass-immigration; and as a byproduct, it is the reason that wars are constantly raging throughout these areas. It is for control structures and ultimately power over each aspect of life. If it seems like a Dystopian story, it is. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening right now.
the real reason they are forced on us is because the elites do not want a thriving middle class anywhere....
a thriving middle class thinks, reads, is moral and frugal...
nope, we must reduce everybody to serfdom....everybody the same by hook or crook....
no nice things for us...
and yes, the national parks and zoos and museums are really better off without the riff raft thinking they can participate.
A few politicians have accidentally let the secret out. They want to make their home countries less white. White genocide is all the range. Africa is already a backaward hell hole. Sinister globalists don’t need to get the population out of the way to exploit their natural resources.
The driving factor behind migration is continuous massive population increases in Africa, the Middle East, and South Asia. These areas were already poor and ill-governed. The masses who can escape want to go to “rich” places, where they can either find some sort of labor jobs (1 out a 1000?) or live off handouts in squalid ghettoes and feel aggrieved.
Sounds like Agenda 21 and One World Government at its finest.
Of course. But why does the illustration show families when there are armies of young men migrating?
The goal is to erase not only all borders but all boundaries of any kind, so that we can no longer speak, write, or think.
Ode to Terminus
W.H. Auden
The High Priests of telescopes and cyclotrons
keep making pronouncements about happenings
on scales too gigantic or dwarfish
to be noticed by our native senses,
discoveries which, couched in the elegant
euphemisms of algebra, look innocent,
harmless enough, but, when translated
into the vulgar anthropomorphic
tongue, will not be received with hilarity
by gardeners or house-wives: if galaxies
bolt like panicking mobs, if mesons
riot like fish in a feeding-frenzy,
it sounds too like Political History
to boost civil morale, too symbolic of
the crimes and strikes and demonstrations
we are supposed to gloat on at breakfast.
How trite, though, our fears beside the miracle
that we’re here to shiver, that a Thingummy
so addicted to lethal violence
should have somehow secreted a placid
tump with exactly the right ingredients
to start and to cocker Life, that heavenly
freak for whose manage we shall have to
give account at the Judgement, our Middle-
-Earth, where Sun-Father, to all appearances,
moves by day from orient to occident
and his light is felt as a friendly
presence, not a photonic bombardment,
where all visibles do have a definite
outline they stick to and are undoubtedly
at rest or on motion, where lovers
recognize each other by their surface,
where to all species except the talkative
have been allotted the niche and diet that
become them. This, whatever micro-
biology may think, is the world we
really live in and that saves our sanity,
who know all too well how the most erudite
mind behaves in the dark without a
surround it is called on to interpret,
how, discarding rhythm, punctuation, metaphor,
it sinks into a drivelling monologue,
too literal to see a joke or
distinguish a penis from a pencil.
Venus and Mars are powers too natural
to temper our outlandish extravagance:
You alone, Terminus the Mentor,
can teach us how to alter our gestures.
God of walls, doors and reticence, nemesis
overtakes the sacrilegious technocrat,
but blessed is the City which thanks You
for giving us games and grammar and metres,
by whose grace also every gathering
or two or three in confident amity
repeats the pentecostal marvel,
as each in each finds his right translator.
In this world our colossal immodesty
has plundered and poisoned it is possible
You still might save us, who by now have
learned this: that scientists, to be lucky,
must remind us to take all they say as a
tall story, that abhorred in the Heavens are
self-proclaimed poets who, to wow an
audience, utter some resonant lie.