I was placed in this world by God. I was all alone around that place. It was a beautiful place. The best place ever. I felt hungry. I ate fruits. I figured out fire. I started cooking plant stuff. I figured I could kill animals and cook them too. Some of them were delicious.
One day I was wandering and I met a female of my species. She was the most beautiful woman. We started living together. We built a home. We divided tasks to enable our survival. I plucked fruits and veggies as I liked roaming and had a taller body. I sometimes managed to hunt rabbits too. She cooked. We both ate. It worked.
She got better at cooking. I got better at hunting-gathering. One day during my riverside nap - I call it my personal time - I had a dream of the old times, when I was plucking, killing, cooking and eating it all. It woke me up, shook me to the core. Why was I giving someone else the privilege of cooking for me the food I gathered? And look what it had done to me - I forgot how to cook!
I couldn't let the thought go. But I somehow convinced myself to live with it as I didn't quite enjoy cooking anyway.
Days passed. I came across many more people who were like me. They too had figured out the stuff I did, although with some variations. Like I ate bananas, potatoes and rabbits. They ate other fruits, veggies and animals. Some of them discovered rice. Some did wheat. Some did corn. And 'Sorghum'. They had to figure out the most edible forms of everything from the wild and mass-produce them. They let me taste some of their stuff. I let them have some of mine. Things got crazy one day. We did a potluck - everyone ate everyone's food, and it was amazing. The best potluck ever.
But there was one problem. Some food needed more work. Some did less. So we couldn't just give and take. We invented money to value them based on how difficult it was to produce. I figured if someone needed my stuff more desperately, I could ask for more money for it as the person would be willing to pay if he liked it a lot, or if I just sprinkled more sugar on my stuff. It worked.
Initially there were many types of money floating around in our community, and it got confusing to exchange one for another, or price things in various monies. The popularity of my bananas, potatoes and dead rabbits made me everyone's favorite, especially after a sprinkle of sugar, my secret ingredient. And I had leadership skills. I guess my riverside ponderings made my mind exceptionally talented. I made a compelling case for everyone to work with my money for transacting and that I'd free everyone else of bothering about how much to print, what color, what rate, etc. Everyone saw my good intentions. There indeed was the chaos which I wanted to fix. I was willing to offer my money for everyone to work with in exchange for theirs, and take the whole management of money on myself. I became an instant hero. Some called me a saint. I fixed up an exchange mechanism for monies, some rates, based on who had what stuff - fruits, veggies and animals. There was push to add skills into the pricing mechanism, and I felt it was justified, e.g., cooking made a lot of difference in making food tasty. And my female partner did it well. She learnt it from me, I must not forget to add. Once the exchange rates were agreed, from then on all buying and selling between people would be with my money.
Our little world was beautiful. My money made all buying and selling so fair and easy. I printed the money, everyone got what they wanted based on the exchange mechanism agreed. There were rich and poor. I was among the rich. I bought from everyone, coz I loved to eat, and eat a lot. It was perfect.
One day while drinking some mind-bending stuff someone sold me, I had a beautiful insight. 'Why don't I make some extra money for myself, like print it just like that? Why should I base it on fruits, vegetables and skills?' That way I didn't have to worry about bananas, potatoes, rabbits and cooking. But I did like bananas, potatoes and rabbits. And more than me, a lot of other people liked them, especially with the sugar. I had also enjoyed cooking once upon a time, but then my female partner did it for me without complaining, so I didn't bother any more.
Just then I had a brilliant idea. I'd pick some poor folks, train them on how to find bananas, potatoes, rabbits and cook them. I'd also give them some of my extra printed money - I have a lot of spare money lying idle anyway. I'd give them enough so that they were excited. Once I had the stuff from them, I'd sell it to other people for higher price. I used money to make more money. It worked. Like magic.
I started enjoying the game even more when I found that I could print money at will and buy whatever I wanted. Nobody complained as I was buying from them. But this poor guy whom I taught to produce the stuff that was originally my expertise - he became better at it than me. Now everyone started buying directly from him at much lower price than they did from me. Nobody wanted the pricier stuff I was offering them. I sometimes tried to get my own bananas, potatoes and rabbits, but I was told they were too old fashioned. I had lost my expertise. All this that stopped the flow of money back to me.
Me being me, I loved to eat stuff everyone made, so I bought from everyone. I just couldn't stop eating. 'What's the point of life otherwise?' I'd ask myself. So I went on printing more money to buy stuff, without bothering about bananas, potatoes, rabbits and cooking - which were my products once upon a time. I became a champion in money-games. I'd sell people virtual stuff for real money - stuff which people could sell me back and get more money than they bought it for. This was smart. Since I alone had rights over the money, I could make as much of it as I wanted.
Anyone moving to other monies must be dealt with through fear, and occasional punishment, I realized. Every evening I'd go to the river side and gather sharp sticks and stones. I even had a fish farm where I reared Piranhas. I made friends with people who looked like me. Those who weren't so pretty liked to please me. I felt like a king. I offered to protect my friends and occasionally threw stones and sticks on bad guys... and I charged money for it.
I grew old. Deep down I started feeling that something was not right. I longed for the times when I plucked my fruits and veggies, hunted for rabbits and cooked with my hands. Now everyone was selling me stuff, and not buying anything from me. It felt so wrong. I felt betrayed.
What if I didn't buy stuff from others? Oops, No, I thought. I couldn't go back to finding the best bananas, potatoes and rabbits... and learning to cook again. These guys spoiled me. I decided I'd punish them by making them pay me to sell things to me. I announced. They didn't like it at first. I persisted. I pushed hard. And imposed what I called tingtongtang tax on all products anyone sold to me.
This was pure genius. I had to design a new way of transacting with tingtongtang. Anyone wanting to sell stuff to me had to come to my doorstep with the stuff. I placed a box there. He would tell me the price. I would add tingtongtang tax to it, calculate the total price, put the money in front of him. The beauty of this transaction was that the guy would only get the money for the original price of the stuff. The tingtongtang tax part would have to be put into the box. My box. Gradually as I'd buy more stuff, and I love to buy, the box would be full in no time.
If some of these guys tried to become my partners, like the one who cooked for me, I'd have to forego some of the tingtongtang tax. I must make sure that didn't happen, I'd make it very difficult. Otherwise, I might have to pluck, gather and hunt again... well, not something I enjoy doing too much.
Soon I'd have boxes and boxes of new money. I'd be wealthy. It's the most beautiful plan.
