These Ponzi schemes, eh? Will there ever be an end to them?
'The SEC alleges that Garfield M. Taylor lured primarily middle-class residents in his community with little to no investing experience to invest in promissory notes issued by his two companies that engaged in purportedly low-risk options trading. Taylor urged investors to refinance their homes and use any available means to invest, including their personal savings and retirement funds. He promised returns as high as 20 percent per year and falsely assured investors that their investments would be protected by a "reserve account" or that he would employ a "covered call" trading strategy that would not touch the principal amount of their investment.' More, than is healthy.
Returns as high as 20 per cent? Some of these people must have been living in a dream world. 20 per cent! In their dreams 20 per cent! But that’s the American dream - no, it's a worldwide dream, an international dream: easy money! / Dear reader(s), there isn't any easy money, not anywhere. I should know, I've looked for it. In the desert, rolling in those mystic sands. Up, up, high in the sky, floating. In the depths of hell, really suffering. And, oh, in my heart, aching. In my subconscious, too, wandering, even! (The first place anyone should look, frankly.) I still haven't got two pennies to rub together. But I live in hope, just like all those lovely middle-class souls who were allegedly ripped off by Mr Taylor.
The dream. Do you know that Colonel Sanders didn't get started on his dream until his was sixty-five years old? It's true. He spent two years travelling around America trying to get restaurants interested in his chicken recipe, and he was turned down 1,009 times before someone accepted the deal he was offering. Now, that's hard!
[So, pretend you're dead to get ahead. Imagine you have nothing left to lose. You're a machine. Yes, you are a monster, a killer. Oh, what can stop you? Nothing can stop you! You are Scarface. / Those smug little commie pricks with very comfortable lives? No problem. They can't touch you. They don't know what a dream is! Everything has been handed to them on a plate by their rich parents. So fuck them - in their ears. You're the fortunate one. You are the one who has to struggle. You are the one who has to go from nothing to something. One day it will all make sense. You must not be afraid. You must not give in. Your unfair advantage is your spirit. Think of Joan of Arc! If a teenage peasant girl can lead her country's army to victory in battle, anyone with a dream, a vision, can do anything!]
'The SEC alleges that Garfield M. Taylor lured primarily middle-class residents in his community with little to no investing experience to invest in promissory notes issued by his two companies that engaged in purportedly low-risk options trading. Taylor urged investors to refinance their homes and use any available means to invest, including their personal savings and retirement funds. He promised returns as high as 20 percent per year and falsely assured investors that their investments would be protected by a "reserve account" or that he would employ a "covered call" trading strategy that would not touch the principal amount of their investment.' More, than is healthy.
Returns as high as 20 per cent? Some of these people must have been living in a dream world. 20 per cent! In their dreams 20 per cent! But that’s the American dream - no, it's a worldwide dream, an international dream: easy money! / Dear reader(s), there isn't any easy money, not anywhere. I should know, I've looked for it. In the desert, rolling in those mystic sands. Up, up, high in the sky, floating. In the depths of hell, really suffering. And, oh, in my heart, aching. In my subconscious, too, wandering, even! (The first place anyone should look, frankly.) I still haven't got two pennies to rub together. But I live in hope, just like all those lovely middle-class souls who were allegedly ripped off by Mr Taylor.
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The dream. Do you know that Colonel Sanders didn't get started on his dream until his was sixty-five years old? It's true. He spent two years travelling around America trying to get restaurants interested in his chicken recipe, and he was turned down 1,009 times before someone accepted the deal he was offering. Now, that's hard!
[So, pretend you're dead to get ahead. Imagine you have nothing left to lose. You're a machine. Yes, you are a monster, a killer. Oh, what can stop you? Nothing can stop you! You are Scarface. / Those smug little commie pricks with very comfortable lives? No problem. They can't touch you. They don't know what a dream is! Everything has been handed to them on a plate by their rich parents. So fuck them - in their ears. You're the fortunate one. You are the one who has to struggle. You are the one who has to go from nothing to something. One day it will all make sense. You must not be afraid. You must not give in. Your unfair advantage is your spirit. Think of Joan of Arc! If a teenage peasant girl can lead her country's army to victory in battle, anyone with a dream, a vision, can do anything!]
