Mammon is lying dead and the world economy is kidnapped by the triple six of technology. Babylon is a sad widow, now just a very old whore. In the subsiding city noise, less and less provisions are transported around.

In a short but big political silence, with not even a blade of grass moving, the call of the pitch-black, false peace-dove’s cooing resounds. The pope apparently appears strong and stalwart, while death peeks at the big crowds through his eyes.

So, listen worldwide to the distress call of the farmer. Yes, he calls: Withered, dried out the planted seed potatoes are also laying on the farmlands. Look, the big drought, flood and cold come and for too long they have delayed with the planting. There is no grain and there is no fodder.

While time is quickly running out, the world-madness begins to rage widely. In a blood-red glow the moon unexpectedly shines red like blood. Look, the Jewish beast now openly boasts with his impure pig nose, while the old wailing-wall will suddenly say goodbye.

The Mediterranean sea is as black as soot in some places, and in other places, red like blood. Yes, everywhere on the ocean there are strange things floating now. With extremely contaminated rivers flowing into the sea, mankind begins to feed on deadly poisonous seafood.

The Africa-spirit is hitting wildly and furiously around her, with Sheba destroying everything around her. Raca awakens from his alcohol hangover, yes with his hair frizzing wildly. Everything around him now has to duck and dive. There is no food, but still he demands a harvest. Unexpectedly his children begin to cough blood, while everyone in quarantine has to duck Ebola germs.

In an African bush bar a Boer is sitting, agonizing. Oh he is very disgruntled. He complains and says, he is tired of toiling, of sowing and ploughing from morning until evening. Slurring he says to his friends: Enough is now enough. He takes an oath while spitting on his calluses.

His words go like this: Blood for blood, your own property stays your property. So, let each kind now feed on its own labor. So, oh men, keep the good hope. Nobody steals our property without compensation. So, who could have known and who could have guessed or suspected, the entire Boer volk is sitting with a very raw and fragile mood.

A gigantic storm begins to rage worldwide and the last food perishes in drought and flood. Once rich countries run around everywhere with the beggar’s hat, while China, like a locust, feed destructively on everything organic.

Yes, Mammon lies dead, kidnapped by technology and Babylon is a widow, just a lonely old whore. So, listen to the subsiding city noise and see less and less provisions transported around.