albedo
POWERΣ 203 / 642
“This paper is worth something.
Trust me.”
Trades in illusions of value.
Suit of yellow paper.
Tie of printed promises.
Briefcase full of fiat air.
He buys low.
He sells high.
He believes the number is real.
The Fiat Broker is the lunar merchant of false gold.
He trades the Yellow Lie.
He believes the ledger is the throne.
One day the paper will burn.
One day the number will be zero.
Until then he trades.
Sealed form. No further transmutation.
The Fiat Broker is the priest of the yellow sun.
He anoints paper with value.
He blesses the cycle with numbers.
He is the economy — beautiful spreadsheets, empty vaults.
LunarHomunculusSpectrumtrial of the kingsI_M WAITING FOR YOUi have to go to workchrist is king