I am a tapeworm. This is the name by which I am commonly designated. I belong to the class of cestodes (internally parasitic flatworms), and scientists call me in Latin taenia solium.
My vital cycle is quite complex. I was not born in a temple where I could enjoy an easy life as an adult. I go through many metamorphoses, but I am fully blossomed only once I am in the intestines of a vertebrate, especially man. I enter in disguise, but once installed, I refuse to leave. All of my energy is used to maintain my position. And it is worth it, believe me. See for yourself:
Am I not the king of parasites, kept by the king of creation? I receive from man, my host, food and lodging for free — I don’t even have to chew.
Don’t believe that I content myself with crumbs or leftovers. Mine is the best of all the food swallowed, digested, ready to be assimilated. My host thinks that when he eats, this is to support his life, but this is with the leftovers, since I was the first served. I don’t have to beg for my share, mind you, I take it.
So how prosperous I am! I, who was but a tiny, imperfect being encysted in a piece of pork, now grow longer, and my body, made of rings, can reach up to twenty, thirty feet, or even more. It multiplies its segments at the expense of the person who hosts and supports me.
It is true though that dint of taking the best out of my host, I impoverish his organism, and my health becomes affected. If my host has less, so do I, but I still take the best. Oh! I certainly do not wish the death of my host; on the contrary, I need him. Neither do I wish him to be sick, since the state of his health is reflected on me. The only thing that guides me is my own vested interest. If my host suffers from my presence, I sacrifice a few rings, sometimes many, but I never sacrifice my head.
When I have lost part of my annulate body, my host, now less exhausted by his shrunk parasite, gets better, and eats more. I am the first to take advantage of it, since I always take the best of what he eats. My body is rebuilt, the cycle starts again.
Because of me, my host goes through a succession of depressions and convalescences. My state fluctuates along with his: I prosper with him, but always a little more than him, and I get weaker with him, but always a little less than him.
Most of the time, my host is not aware of my presence, since I work in silence, and hidden in his bosom. He attributes his feelings of sickness to other causes, blames other agents. His ignorance is my safety. If sometimes someone denounces my presence, I am on my guard. If someone works to evict me, I choose the right time, the psychological moment, to influence my host favorably, by the generous abandonment of several feet of my segments.
The result is inevitable: the assaults against me are stopped, my host is delighted to get better, and I am even more delighted than him. As long as he has not touched my head.
Oh! This head... few people know about it. Thank God, for they would attack it fiercely. It is a special head called by scientists scolex. There is no mouth – I don’t need it, since I immediately assimilate the food that I take through my own method. There are four suckers, and three pairs of hooks: this is my greatest wealth, and I will never accept to abandon them. Whatever may happen, I must remain hooked at any cost, firmly stuck to the intestine of my host. Woe to me if I let go!
What shall I add? Does my empire strengthen or come to an end? One thing, however, worries me: a doctor – oh, the charlatan! – took it into his head to find a weapon for my destruction, in a common vegetable. He produced the etheral extract of fern. This is my death sentence. Let’s not talk about it, for it would make a disastrous publicity for me.
* * *
I am a tapeworm and – supreme honor – I am the perfect representation of the banking system implanted in the bosom of human civilization.
This system too works in silence and darkness, exploits the ignorance of its host, and appropriates the first fruits of human production. It leads nations to eras of depressions, and then makes concessions, lower interest rates, makes it easier to borrow, and have those whom it deprived compliment it, because they are now a little bit less deprived. The present banking system, just like a tapeworm, will accept to make a few temporary sacrifices, choosing the psychological moment to ensure effects that will satisfy its host while strengthening its own position.
The banking system, just like me, wants above all to remain attached to its victim. Equipped with suckers and hooks, it won’t budge an inch. It will sacrifice many things, if necessary, but never the monopoly of credit, the monopoly over the creation of money as a debt. This is its head. And just like me, it enjoys the fact that not many people know about the actual nature of its head.
But the most amazing similarity is that the banking system too fears the charlatanism of a researcher who took it in his head to find a modest opponent, but terribly efficient, to ensure the disappearance of this head that rules the roost. So, how closely the banking system watches the news media it controls so that the very name of this remedy be never mentioned, this simplistic Social Credit system that threatens its empire.
Talk about capitalism or socialism, communism or fascism, dictatorship or democracy, religion or materialism, social or political reform – all that leaves the banking system quite indifferent. But dare not talk about Social Credit; this is the most dangerous thing!
I am but a tapeworm. My family is probably heading towards the kingdom of disappeared fauna. If I have a last wish to express, it is to make sure that our name is mentioned in a prominent place in the archives and story books of the human beings we gorged ourselves on. Would it not be opportune, for example, that the Bankers Association, at its next meeting, vote for the adoption of a representative logo in which would be clearly displayed the king of parasites, the tapeworm with its head equipped with suckers and hooks?
(certified true copy: Louis Even)