What’s the world made up of? There’s something that makes the world one. There’s naïveté in the people. People like to be comfortable. They work hard to be comfortable. To create a sense of frivolous safety. Their comfort zone. In order to do that you have to leave your comfort zone, to create another one. Laughable. Markets are made up of these people who are out to buy, goods and services. Then there are the people who make the stuff. Who are they? The people who do not have comfort zones. They are uncomfortable always. They eat risk for supper. One hell of social engineers who make people believe and it is that belief that turns into a reality. They might not have believed it themselves, but everyone else did. That’s enough to create a new market. That’s from personal experience! About the world. There actually are a couple of worlds. First world. Third world. The first world people suffer from superiority complex. Those are ducks. One doesn’t need a sniper to take the duck out. A well hurled stone does the job. Speaking in terms of cracking sales, not killing anyone. They tend to have a well established mindset. What is well established, is easy to exploit. As they say, fat cats have soft bellies. Tactics: Scan. Recon. Map. Unleash. Clear the trails. Wham bam thank you mam. It works like bingo, bingo, bingo, bingo!!
The third world, has an abundance of shit. Wastage. Youth who are not very young, getting wasted away. For crimes they don’t know they’ve committed. The crime remains being born in third world countries. Post a job. And even those who pronounce job for a “jaab” will apply with enthusiasm of visionaries. They make you puke. Deploy bots to talk to them. Bots get the best of everyone, make them puke. The good fellas will not puke, hire them. What’s one hour wages in the first world is one month salary in the third world. You bastard! Which world do you think you belong to? Allah’s world. He didn’t make countries or nation states, He didn’t make timelines or currencies. I’m a bastard and bastards don’t respect bullshit. Then the third world got a hell of trojans, maybe the Greeks took Troy in a blitz and let the trojan horses breed in Kashmir. They try to play very docile, with the sole intention to doing what you’re doing, on their own. Not a good idea if you have a bastard on the other end. The easiest thing to do, make them masturbate with goals and dreams, until their hair turns grey.