While comatose and imprisoned, the machines feed our minds with a simulation designed to keep us oblivious, distracted, and obedient to the system dr… - M.J. DeMarco

I hear people having a great time, a celebration,” she said. I asked further, “Why?” “Why what? It’s Friday!” she declared. I probed further. “What’s so special about Friday? If we came here on Monday, this place would be empty, and the sound of celebration would be absent. What makes Friday so special as opposed to Monday or Wednesday?” Knowing that she was trapped in one of my paradoxical interrogations, she humored me. “Uhm, people get paid on Friday?” I levied the verdict: Friday evening is celebrated because people are rejoicing the dividends of their trade: five days of work-bondage exchanged for two days of unadulterated freedom. Saturday and Sunday are the payment for Monday through Friday. Friday evening symbolizes the emergence of that payment, freedom for two days. The prostitution of Monday through Friday is why “Thank God it’s Friday” exists. On Friday, people are paid FREEDOM in the currency of Saturday and Sunday.

People care about what your business can do for them. How will it help them? What’s in it for them? Will it solve their problem? Make their life easier? Provide them with shelter? Save them money? Educate them? Make them feel something? Tell me, why on God’s green Earth should I give your business money? What value are you adding to my life?

Soon after the American left, things changed. The government, desperate for tax dollars, levied a series of boating, gaming, and license fees: To continue fishing, the Mexican must pay $400 for a fishing license, a $200 environmental fee, a $350 game endorsement, and $1,800 in mooring fees. If he doesn’t pay ASAP, the Mexican will be barred from fishing.
Unfortunately, after paying all the fees, the Mexican has little money left to insure and license his boat. Unable to legally operate at his favorite coastal town, the Mexican fisherman drives three hours south to another town, where the quality of the fish is poor. The long drive takes its toll on the Mexican’s car, where it ultimately breaks down. In order to fix his car, he needs $200 for a water pump and $400 for a radiator. This is after he pays $600 to get his car towed back to his village.
But this story is about to get worse. When the Mexican fails to pay the mooring fees to the harbor master, he loses his boat. The Mexican fisherman who spent most of his days in a state of unpreparedness and merriment — strumming around with his friends, sipping wine — is now unable to support his family. His wife divorces him. The Mexican now sings a different tune with his amigos … something along the lines of “Money can buy happiness.