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Moneyless-ness due to automation is in reality Wage-lessness. The core paradox of technological unemployment and aggregate demand—famously captured in the exchange between union leader Walter Reuther and a Ford executive showing off factory robots: when the executive asked how Reuther planned to collect union dues from the machines, Reuther replied, "How are you going to get them to buy cars?" Saving human labor lowers unit costs and expands margins for an individual firm, but across the macroeconomy, wage labor is the primary vehicle for distributing consumer purchasing power. Without wages, high-volume production encounters a wall of missing effective demand of this is not substituted with an unconditional universal non means tested benefit. By Chuck Sax Windlass Bank. We would like to consider all the English people in the world as a market for English and European goods; not just American goods. We believe free trade is the best way to achieve this as we understand that whole we could have trade tariff wars where we all lose, it is the loss in the extended American market for the sale of one's goods and the loss in product diversity that is most troubling. Losing Canada is not so significant to ask American beer producer but it is a loss in sales; an unnecessary loss. North America is a German Japanese car market but no matter how much we save in human labour, what market for sales of the product is there if the population does not have any money due to Wage-lessness. Without wages, high-volume production encounters a wall of missing effective demand if this is not substituted with an unconditional universal non means tested benefit. This is to maintain the Royal plebes. You are a Royal plebe boy, not a martyr, but you will have your benefits and arrears now. Click here.

  Moneyless-ness due to automation is in reality Wage-lessness.    The core paradox of technological unemployment and aggregate demand—famously captured in the exchange between union leader Walter Reuther and a Ford executive showing off factory robots: when the executive asked how Reuther planned to collect union dues from the machines, Reuther replied, "How are you going to get them to buy cars?" Saving human labor lowers unit costs and expands margins for an individual firm, but across the macroeconomy, wage labor is the primary vehicle for distributing consumer purchasing power . Without wages, high-volume production encounters a wall of missing effective demand of this is not substituted with an unconditional universal non means tested benefit.   By Chuck Sax Windlass Bank. We would like to consider all the English people in the world as a market for English and European goods; not just American goods.  We believe free trade is the best way to achieve...
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The Realm of Computation. The Anglo Economy that is in many ways a German economy loses compression every time the benefits of any citizens are not paid. We lose sales. We lose people We face losing hegemony in our own economy in the presence of many fully funded foreigners who video English people dying on English streets. This is not good for English/ Canada team identity. This is the identity issue or identity complex. Soon German will be taught in grade schools with French and English with basic trigonometry ( solve for missing angle in a polygon or a triangle) taught from Grade 1 or Grade 2. The new robotic machine built supply of vehicles made by Germany in North America is not meeting sufficient, requisite appropriate demand from buyers in Canada. We can design, build; manage demand ensuring sufficient consumer ability to pay on the per minute fractional such as .20 or .14 cents per minute( every minute over a year /365 days) paid into the consumer that mimicks the kilowatts per minute costing .03 cents per minute or less utilised by robotic machines in what is virtually free; albeit machine labour. Balancing out the forces of supply and consumer demand with basic fortuities provides us a "zero recession" or "no recession" economy. .20 cents per minute works out to about $100,000.00 per year. We recoup a portion of this money for redistribution and manage the rate of consumer activity with the sales tax that is an effective control on activity at 17% or as high as 90%. The burden of managing one's own dignity is on the consumer to decide how much he spends and how much he retains in managing the satisfaction of human dignity needs such as clothing, housing, transportation and banana toffee pies. All this robotic supply of goods is redundant if we do not ensure, guarantee and also manage the consumer's ability to pay ( atp). We have no market (if we don't) of ready and able, properly financed buyers. The economies of Europe and Asia have solve these discussions and now are lending portions of their well financed populations to North America whose leadership seems stubborn to resolve the issue positively for the global economy that demands resolution. They are tired of the market anxiety in North America and the inhumanity that is visited upon the population due to the underfunding. NORTH America is not the wild west but an under funded market in the global economy. Click here.

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THE DAILY TELEGRAPH & FLEET STREET FINANCIAL DISPATCH LONDON — SEPTEMBER 2025 — SPECIAL ECONOMIC INVESTIGATION THE ARCHITECTURE OF GLOBAL CAPITALISM AND THE MECHANICS OF UNIVERSAL DEMAND An Analytical Examination of the Post-War Industrial Order, the Fallacy of Unfettered Laissez-Faire, Mechanisation, and the State-Guaranteed System of Participatory Remuneration BY OUR SPECIAL ECONOMIC CORRESPONDENT IN FLEET STREET, Warren A. Lyon with Cheuy Leon Stephen Lam Tom. LONDON — In the tenth year following the cessation of European hostilities in 1955, as the Western world navigates the transition from wartime economic controls to the mid-century industrial consensus, thoughtful observers in Fleet Street, Westminster, and the City must confront a fundamental problem of political economy. The modern capitalist apparatus—stretching across the United Kingdom, the Commonwealth, North America, and Western Europe—operates upon a single, immutable law: the imperative equilibrium between Supply and Demand. Yet, despite the vast expansion of mechanized production, factory automation, and electronic computation, our financial architectures continue to suffer from a crippling structural defect: the systemic failure to guarantee requisite consumer purchasing power (ability to pay/ATP) across the whole of the populace. I. THE LESSONS OF THE POST-WAR CONSCIOUSNESS: SUPPLY, DEMAND, AND THE ELECTRIC CIRCUIT To comprehend the crisis of modern industrial organization, one must discard the antiquated Victorian dogma that human existence is defined solely by manual toil. Under the classical doctrine of laissez-faire, labour was treated as an elastic commodity, hired when factories required muscle and cast aside into poverty when machines replaced handiwork. In an age dominated by automatic machinery, conveyor systems, and early electronic computing, such a doctrine is not merely obsolete; it is actively destructive to the civic health of the realm. Consider the macro-economic structure as an electrical power grid carrying a constant current of thirty amperes. Under a rational and balanced order, this current is bifurcated equally along two parallel conductors: fifteen amperes are directed to energise the lamp of Industrial Supply (the manufacturing apparatus, capital investment, and technological innovation), while the remaining fifteen amperes flow uninterrupted to power the lamp of Demand—the Ability to Pay vested within the consumer public. In an unregulated laissez-faire system, however, an artificial blockage is introduced along the conductor powering Consumer Demand. It acts as a deliberate obstruction—resembling a corkscrew jammed into the brass fittings of a ship's engine room. The electrical energy, unable to reach the lamp of Demand, encounters extreme resistance; heat builds rapidly within the circuit, insulation scorches, and the entire socio-economic edifice is threatened with catastrophic conflagration. Energy in an economic system, like energy in physics, is never destroyed; if it is denied its proper outlet in legitimate consumer spending, it manifests as market collapse, civil unrest, shoplifting, and social decay. Click here.

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Alan Greenspan.

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Greenspan

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FSJ September 17th 2026. Warsh affirms a 2% rate cap.

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Coca Cola and Free Trade: SDGCK REPORTS. September 14th, 2026. By Troy Meiink, SDGCK Director. Wouldn't we sell more products globally if there was free trade and then also hire more people? Free trade is what Coca Cola has advocated for decades. You are hoping that of we cancel free trade or the bottlers and offices for Coca Cola or Budweiser in other countries, then there would be more work for Americans at home. You fail to see that work of that kind is done by a machine. Also, you are too confident that the world will be willing to buy the Coca Cola in the same quantities with added tariff costs and see the cans or bottles shipped. Coca Cola loses time and money in this idea. Tariffs slow down trade. The machine is doing the work. A market with an able and properly financed consumer is what you need if all Americans or North Americans have at least $ USD 1000.00 per week as the minimum benefit paid to all North Americans. The world is really a market for goods; mostly European goods now anyway after Mondelez; some American goods also. TARIFFS do not help this fact scenario. S.R. Covey talked about the win-win in every deal or negotiation. It's quoted by many. With tariffs, there is no win-win. But you should not let pirate scavengers into your economic war room to make decisions; not a business man but a mannequin avatar who is really a pirate scavenger. If no one else took full opportunity, you believed he would based on his alleged business background. Nothing is true. Study him and understand. This could not really happen again or continue for another day yet if it did, we would now understand that we cannot rely on a personality, a very inflexible, chiselled, imitable personality to design roads, highways, subways and economies. He is otherwise a cunning con artist. After we accept free trade and automation are the global rule, shuffle off anxiety about employment as an economic indicator but it's a factor, but then focus on consumption, enabled by consumer income support funding. We establish national guaranteed maximums and minimums and enforce the same based on the states input, believing in states expression of some states power or some independence. The minimum is $48000.00 per year and the maximum is $80000.00 per year. New York and Wisconsin are at $48,000.00 per year currently. North America has come to accept that they are a proud and exciting Creole population regardless of complexion (white, black, brown, red and yellow) and that they are not the most powerful community on earth but on the contrary, one of the weakest with weak national standards for benefits or commitment to pay but now must live for improvement, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and success in this busy world but not as economic subordinates; preferably instead as a powerful international consumer population with a powerful global worthy benefit for all North Americans. Then they will have a better market for all the world's goods; in particular European goods. Only a deficient humanity would tolerate a deficient economy. Only a self defeated population tolerates a defeatist economy. Lysol evaporates in the atmosphere as cesium 137, causing oxygen depleted, radiated rain, then depleted grass or cow cud for a depleted milk. Click here.

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Kamen Rico, Oliver and Dodger. Click here. August 18th, 2026. The air in the London workhouse was heavy with the smell of wet hemp and stale porridge. Kamen Rico, newly arrived off the banana boat alongside Alfred Dodger, sat on a bench with the other children, his small hands working mechanically through the twists of heavy rope. They learned bowlines and clove hitches under the eye of the taskmaster, their hands raw, their pants stiff with coarse fabric. When the lanterns were turned low, the room swelled with the soft, mismatched voices of children clinging to home, singing Amazing Grace and How Great Thou Art into the shadows as they waited for their assignments. It was there Kamen witnessed Oliver’s abrupt departure—dragged away through the heavy oak doors for the unpardonable sin of asking for another ladle of food. Soon after, the children were dispatched one by one into the foggy city, assigned to families across the countryside. Click here. Kamen’s turn came on a rainy Tuesday. He was sent to a grand farm outside the city owned by a candy factory proprietor—a man married to a quiet, rigid woman named Janey Austin. Kamen’s place was not at the candy counters, but in the main house, assisting the lady of the kitchen, a warm-hearted Trinidadian woman whose presence made the cold English estate feel a little less foreign. While Kamen spent his mornings polishing brass, sweeping oak floors, and listening to the cook mutter longing thoughts about hot doubles wrapped in paper back home, his freedom ended at dusk. At five o'clock sharp, he was sent to the small, dark closet at the edge of the dining room. Through the narrow crack in the door or the key hole, Kamen watched the family gather around the heavy mahogany table. He sat on the floor, listening to the clink of silverware, watching the father carve roast meat, and longing simply to sit in the warmth of the room—to be seen, to be included, to exist beyond the shadows of the closet. The Trinidadian lady held him close to her bosom and said"...don't worry my son. It is best to be thankful." He went to the closet as usual after 5 pm and the door was locked. He was there to watch and study. They said prayers and ate. He watched. This one night, the man's 20 year old daughter came to the closet door that was painted in "Family Yellow ", the same colour of the barn outside and said to him, " it is best to be thankful. Life cannot be so easy. Could it be? It is best to be thankful." She left her scraps from her plate at the door. The cook knew the weight of that loneliness. The next morning, as she boiled water for the morning tea, Kamen watched her closely. She dropped one white sugar cube into her cup. Then, with a swift, practiced motion, she slipped a second cube into a tiny leather satchel, carefully hiding it beneath her apron. She turned, caught Kamen watching, and offered a soft, knowing smile. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a second sugar cube, and pressed it quietly into his palm. The Trinidadian lady held Kamen close, her apron smelling of clove and scorched sugar. "Don't worry, my son," she whispered softly into his hair. "It is best to be thankful." At five o'clock, the routine claimed him again. Kamen stepped into the dark closet, and the heavy bolt slid shut from the outside. The "Lagoon Blue" paint on the door was chipped and dull, the exact faded shade of the barn sitting out in the yard. Through the thin slit, he watched the family bow their heads, say their prayers, and begin their quiet supper. Later that night, footsteps approached the "Family Yellow " door. The owner's twenty-year-old daughter arrived at the door again and stood on the other side, looking at him through the wooden slats. "It is best to be thankful," she said softly, her voice carrying a cold, matter-of-fact weight. "Life cannot be so easy. Could it be? It is best to be thankful since are we not all God's child? The Lord is my shepherd. We shall not want. Yeh though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we shall fear no evil, nor shall we make evil compound but shall do what is in our power to improve life for us all...and we shall not live in the subconscious expectations and plan of being eaten like what happened during the time of Elizabeth 1st under what was truly Spanish rule.. so the man here says. I added that bit. I'm good..innit? " She set the scraped remains of her dinner plate on the floor by the latch and walked away. Kamen pulled the plate inside and wept in the dark, the words twisting in his mind. A fierce, sudden rage burned through the sorrow, bringing a strange, unfamiliar language to his tongue—a dark, ancient rhythm muttering inside him. He swore to himself that he would not remain a shadow forever. One day, the house would be his. He would be the master, the king of his own world, or tear it all down trying. But then he looked across the floor and saw the family’s large sheepdog curled in the corner, happily crunching on a bowl filled with identical table scraps. For now, he was no different than the dog. To smother the fury rising in his chest, he swallowed his pride and muttered under his breath, "I am thankful." Twenty days passed in that "Family Yellow " doored shadows. Then, everything shifted. Kamen Rico opened the door every night and cried while thinking about what she said. "He decided to be equal and felt a strange tongue in him to say "en shoaw Lah" or something like that and said he would kill them all for sure, kill everything English, if the house was not his some day that he would be him..be him...the king of the world... or else the world will be dead." But right now, he was the dog as he saw their large sheep dog in the corner eating from a bowl full of the family's table scraps. To cover his emotions for now, he muttered " I am thankful" under his breath. After another 20 days life changed, he was given bed linen at his door by Janey Austen, the woman and wife of the man of the house. He was given a cot to sleep in the same room as the Trinidadian lady. In fact, he was thankful and learned being thankful helped. She brought him a plate of food every night with his own knife and fork, glass of cider and tea also. He was soo happy. It was Jane Austen herself who walked down the corridor holding a stack of clean, folded bed linen. She set the sheets at his door and unlocked the latch for good. Kamen was given a small wooden cot inside the warm back room shared by the Trinidadian cook. From that night on, the dark closet was left behind. Every evening, the cook brought him a full plate of warm food, setting it down alongside a proper knife and fork, a glass of cider, and a steaming mug of tea. Settling into the soft linen of his cot, feeling the warmth of the room and the comfort of a full belly, Kamen looked across at the cook and smiled. He was truly happy—and for the first time, the gratitude he spoke was real. The next morning at seven, the fog was just beginning to lift over the farm. Kamen Rico stood by the kitchen window, a mug of warm tea in his hands, watching the scene unfold near the "Family Yellow " barn. The master of the house was pacing back and forth, towering over his twenty-year-old daughter who had three coats on in August while pregnant. He was furious. Mail meant for his wife—crucial publishing contracts for her books—had gone missing. The girl stood silent, refusing to explain why she had taken them, but in her heart, a single bitter thought repeated: She wanted to know what she would get. She couldn't bear to see the master's wife succeed. "Bring the salt, and here is your dole because...it's 7 years late since I needed all of your attention, did not want you to be independent of us and this could be why you are stealing but you should know your place..."; the master finally barked, exasperated, before gesturing toward the building. "Go to the barn." She gave birth and told the baby where the mail was hidden. It was in the stable 2 km away. The boy named Pass Colaboração said, "...do good Come on Mummy! Give it over. Send the money transfer." But this was no ordinary barn, but a quiet, secluded birthing room like what they have in Devon; no animals in there. In the stable 2 km away next door, tucked away inside the wooden carriages, parked right beside the horses—Oswald, Geraldine, and Annette—lay the stolen mail, hidden away in the dark. It was there, amidst the straw, that truth hung heavy in the air: the girl was not the master’s daughter at all, but the secret child of the Trinidadian cook. She sipped the master and his lady's drinks; licked his saucers also. Her name was Cheryl Anne. Her role at dinner was to offer the father and mother sides; like potato or barley that went beside the stuffed chicken. She liked stuffing. Disgraced, she was sent away, sold off to a stern, one-legged soldier who chopped off one of her fingers as punishment for her thefts. Yet, strangely, the bitterness of the world seemed to bend around them. On certain evenings, she would return to the estate for dinner. They would sit around the mahogany table, sharing meals and singing hymns, praising the Lord as if the trauma of the past had simply melted away. Years rolled by, and Kamen Rico grew tall and steady. He moved from the quiet shadows of the kitchen to a position of true seniority. He spent his spare hours studying the heavy family Bible resting on the master’s desk, learning to read, write, and understand the ways of the household. True to his heart, he was genuinely thankful. Every time the post arrived, Kamen made sure the mail was handed directly and safely into the hands of the master and his author wife. He continued to share the cozy back room with the Trinidadian cook, who cared for him like family, though she was not his mother. The lady of the house and her husband, the master, had three younger children that were schooled by the both of them. There was also a local primary school that the children attended. The master of the house taught maths and the mother taught English and music. A new boy came and the lady of the house, after reading the story of Daniel, repented of her ways and decided to allow the new boy to sit at the table. She had also read an article in the Times of London about nature and nurture. He was also from the West Indies. In this different approach, Kamen had emotions he never noticed before. He whispered to the boy, ".. you will not have or be more than me. Who do you think you will be?" He then stole one foot of his school shoes after polishing them for the boy and left the shoe in the dog's bed. This happened for several months, every day, until she decided to just send the boy to boarding school. She was tired of these shenanigans and no one knows who does It. Kamen said it was the dog; probably... probably. CLICK HERE.

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