Click on the image above to view the three logos over time.
America, while you’ve been digging out of the 15 snowstorms that blasted our nation this winter, I was keeping watch over your money by researching recent history of our banking industry. And what I will share with you next will show you just what bad shape it’s in. Readers, I know you’ve been as worried as I am about the slippery slope of socialism we’ve been riding since the 2008 elections, but this latest finding of mine will have you redoubling your efforts to fight back against those who would take away our ability to defend our homes and families. If you think your hard earned money is safe in the bank, think again. I’ve done my research, folks, and what I’ve discovered will shock you to your red-blooded American core. Read on.
Since I moved to New York City a dozen years ago, my bank has slowly turned from community to communist. That’s right. Through multiple, gradual takeovers and buyouts, which these reds are expert at, I might add, my money has moved along the spectrum from blue to red and from revolution through reification to the red-loving state-run anonymity of a global brand. Just look at the evidence in name only:
- Independence Community Bank
- Sovereign Bank
- Santander Bank (subsidiary of the Spanish Santander Group)
As one example, let me tell you how even my physical interaction with money, perhaps the most famous and common symbol we use every day, changed beyond recognition when the first takeover took effect. Like anyone else, I give myself an allowance of fun money, and one Friday night after the Sovereign name change in 2006, I went to the ATM to get out my Friday forty. Out of the ATM came these silver-dollar size gold coins, that tumbled to floor of the vestibule! What was I supposed to do with these? Sail the Caribbean looking for more of them? I couldn’t even read the Roman numerals on one side of the coins, let alone the phrasing wrapped around the horse’s head stamped on the other. So every Friday my ATM jaunts turned into a two-hour trip to JFK to exchange my guineas for US dollars at the international booth. Not to mention cutting down on my spending because some Fridays I was too tired from the prior week to head out to the airport, I also had to invest in a military rip stop nylon case just to carry the coins around until I had a chance to change them, as their combined weight tore the straps off of every regular bag in my closet. Plus, waiting in line gave me time to think, and you know, folks, I had a lot of ideas.
How fair was it for me to waste my own time waiting to change my money? I was actually losing money by spending gas driving out there, and taking hours of my precious time to boot? I just adapt, we Americans, we adjust. Wasn’t this country founded on fighting for independence against a sovereign who was unfairly taxing our own products and labor? This was when my true awakening began. Do you want your money stored in a place promising a bridge to the other side, a connection to more community? Or do you want to look at your money from afar as a distant source of benign, clear light, given off from behind glass? Or worse yet, some soft-sounding corporate entity, with no connection to any real name, symbolized by red, snakelike S’s on fire with greed? The choice is yours.