Ah, the elusive "freedom". <As long as Maurice does not sell, he is not free, and as long as he is not free, he is at the mercy of the life cycle of any and every tech company, meandering towards oblivion without passing out any material gain.>
Jay, freedom is not found by me selling my Q. That's just swapping my QCOM, which has actual, real value, with millions of boys and girls going nuts over 3G and the prospects for cyberspace nirvana, for Uncle Al KBE's dried as a prune, ready to hang out to dry, governmental centrally-planned socialist fiat currency based on nothing but King George II's promise to rule the world by pre-emptive strike. Which, by the way, I am secretly planning to destroy.
Why on Earth would I sell the instrument of the US$'s destruction in exchange for the US$?
I could go another stage and then swap the US$ for some Aztec talisman of hope, houses to rent out, NZ$ [just another false hope pixelated politician's promise], land, oil fields [which are over-priced already as trees can produce energy cheaper than the current price of oil], iron mines and other industrial age obsolescence [though China and India will be buying a LOT of that stuff for a decade or three]. But why go from the future to the past, when the past is worse than the future and the past has nowhere to go but back to the future again.
I would run for the hills if I could see some hills which were worth running to. I live on a reasonable rise, which takes care of the majority of sea-level risks. I have a big moat around me, to keep at bay desperate marauders if the worst comes to the worst. I have a moderate climate, good for growing food sufficient to avoid food wars on my little island. QUALCOMM seems as good a place as any for actually doing good things which people want to buy in a big way at prices sufficient to justify most of the price of QCOM.
I think I'll just concentrate on taking over from Uncle Al KBE, who will be in retirement or even dead before I am ready to rule the world. There's no need for me to swap potential freedom for definite slavery.
While living in the monkey cage, with no bars between me and monkeys, there's no real freedom. If I have a stash of gold, the other monkeys will come and grab it, hitting me until I cry, to make me let go. If I have some land, they'll walk onto it, graze their cattle and hit me until I cry if I go to them to complain. Hiding in cyberspace, like an ethereal supernatural spook, they can suspect I am there, but they aren't sure. When the see some nondescript guy wandering along the road, they don't see anything to steal and even if they were sure there was something, they couldn't get their dirty little paws on it.
Mqurice |
