“I still don’t…”

I assume he was denied nutrition at birth.

I popped in the recording;

“I want you to watch this. This is another country, the language you will not understand, but I think you can get the gist of what I’m discussing.”

The screen filled with an attractive woman cavorting on a platform, dressed in a particular color. The crowd was cheering, dressed in the same color, many twisting about in a kind of dance/epileptic fit.

The woman came near the microphone and shouted two words, the crowd shouted back. She did this three times, then the music stopped and she began to shrill into the mic. Her voice flew up and down, and the audience kept shouting back, totally engrossed.

“What is she saying?” the Senior Advisor asked.

I bit my tongue, quietly answered;

“It doesn’t matter what she is saying, the audience response is important.”

Spared from more useless questions, the recording switched to a gentleman, dressed in other colors, standing quietly waiting for a cheering audience to cease. He began to speak in measured tones, obviously discussing some issue in a logical fashion. The crowd was silent, listening, some nodding.

To avoid question I said;

“He is discussing various factors in the campaign. Now,” and I stopped the viewing; “who do you think won the election?”

I could almost see his brain banging from one side of his head to another, the effort of thought difficult. That is the first thing to go. The ability to extrapolate. (If A = 1 and B = 2 then A + B = ?)

“She won.” I supplied, before the effort of thinking on an overly full stomach would cause him to expel gas.

“She won because the audience is the result of poor nutrition, dumbed down schools. He lost because the majority of the electorate are brain damaged and can not follow logical arguments, understand issues.”

He nodded slowly; then, “But we can’t have a nation of idiots.”

“No, but you can have a population of idiots led by a smallelite. The elite, who can insure their children receive proper nutrition, who can build and fund private schools and tutors, or send their children overseas for education.”

“So what do you get out of it?” He now asks.

“We want a contract to exploit the natural resources for fifty years. We’ll give you thirty percent of all profits.”

“Why fifty years?” he asked.

I didn’t tell him the truth, I never do.

“It’s a reasonable number. We don’t expect to clear much in the first few years, and towards the last few we expect that we would have pretty much depleted whatever we have found.”

He nodded, and I could see the wheels turning, see him spending that thirty percent on a retirement home in another country.

In fifty years he would be dead, the country a zoo. In fifty years the people would be going for a “revolution” but too stupid to blame their leaders, would have their anger easily directed against “foreigners”.

In less than twenty years we would have made our profit and sold the contract to another company; local or foreign.

In the 1800’s, local populations were naturally stupid. They had never seen, never known, living in their villages with their traditions, they were easily conquered, colonised, exploited.

In the 1900’s, exposure to European culture created a local educated class. There were members of this class who were concerned about their people, their country, realising that companies as mine were raping his country.

This outrage didn’t last long, for by the 2000’s, the local leaders forgot about freedom and were concerned about getting their cut of the pie.  By returning the population to that level of ignorance enjoyed in the 1800s  the local tyrant wouldn’t need massacres or brutality. A population of sheep is easily controled, easily exploited.

We left the Presidential Palace, marking another success.