The English Gent made me repeat it several times to make sure I'd remember...
I can almost remember the town in England -- Guildford, I think it was -- somewhere in the suburbs of London. Almost remember, but not quite. I should have kept a diary, but that's the problem with traveling light, at least in those days. Maybe now, I could just leave it in the blogosphere as I go.
So one evening, I remember an elderly English gentleman stopped to talk with me about what he called the three B's. He kept insisting that I remember the method the government (in England) controlled the masses with was the three "B's", bingo, ball and booze. I mean, you never know. I might have been talking with someone who simply enjoyed bantering conspiracy theories about, or he might have been the equivalent of a retired James Bond or something. He asked me to repeat it a few times.
But have you ever noticed how seriously those guys take it? It's a kid's game, for crying out loud. Why bingo? What about slinky, or silly putty or old maids or snakes and ladders? Maybe even a more grown up game like checkers. No. It had to be bingo. That was the winner. And man, did it catch on. Whether the man with the three "b's" was spot on or not, it sure looked like there was something more going on than meets the eye. But even if not, "bingo" could go it alone. It could take over the world all by itself.
But something really powerful is going on to prevent the section of the population that isn't neutralized by the other two b's (and those guys -- they're hopeless; if once they walk down the dark side of the farce, the twisted paths of ball or booze, just write them off as goners! -- easy shots, piece of cake). I'm not talking about the poor closet drinkers here, at least they have an excuse. Something else wiped their slate.
But what about those who really pose a problem to the sort of institution that would prefer the remnant, the most serious segment that could really do something if left to their devices, under the proverbial thumb of state control? Then you've gotta have the ultimate weapon to get the other statue-quo-threatening one tenth of the population who escaped unscathed. Who ever thought it? A gambling device from a kid's game. But it worked, and that's all she wrote. Curtains. It must be the end of the world for sure. There was an old man who had an old dog and bingo was his name.
In the real world, it's the good guys who cause even more problems than the villains. Something just happened in the human condition to make us that way. But the bad guy thing is compounded by willful ignorance. So what is the greatest cause of global poverty, wars, political unrest, even catastrophic plagues and all sorts of other extreme failings in society? The disinterest of the common person. The everyday person in pursuit of disconnecting amusements such as gambling, social drinking, and the worst of all, professional sports.
So somebody can throw a ball, you want to make him a millionaire? No wonder so much money is tied up and going nowhere. Just so those guys can sit around and feel rich. It's the cheapest mind control there is and you're the stooge. So go ahead, waste a life. Just so you know. It's irresponsible. And not just that, it's the cause of the problem. Yet nobody dares look at it, no one dares bring the cancer into the light. You know why? They're scared to. They're scared of you. Does that make you feel good? Yeah, I'll bet it does.