“Not so gloomy,” I said to the depressed daughter of a good friend. She no longer watches television or on her phone. She can no longer cope with the recent images from the almost eighty-year war between Israel and the Palestinians. In any case, she was already tired by all the pictures from Ukraine and those of the dismal retreat of the Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh.
I thought I would make her happy by telling her that there are also things that are going very well. Especially financially. For example, tobacco farmers are looking forward to golden years because they have encouraged young people to vape. And the great thing about vaping is that many children eventually start smoking a nice cigarette again. And then just get addicted the old-fashioned way.
Two weeks ago I drove past the large cubes of Philip Morris near Bergen op Zoom. That beautiful deep black, immense lung cancer monument. Some time ago, those colossi were in danger of being demolished because people smoked less and less. But the industry has found a solution. Kudos. Cheers. Deep bow for this wonderful success. Children made addicted. Fantastic, right? And I can also gently congratulate the pulmonologists. Because there remains a lot of work to be done for them too.
And what about the glyphosate lobby, which recently arranged for the Netherlands not to vote in Brussels for a ban on this carcinogenic weed killer? Delicious chemical junk that also causes a huge increase in Parkinson’s disease. Especially among farmers. We have too much of that, so spraying hundreds of thousands of liters of poison is indirectly good for the nitrogen problem. The neurologists also have a lot of work to do. Just like the wheelchair and stair lift industry.
A left-wing friend of mine said: “But if that stuff is so dangerous, aren’t you going to ban it first and then really find out whether it is indeed harmful? And if that turns out to be a false alarm, you give the green light. But you’re not going to keep spraying it over God’s fields for ten years, are you? With the risk that you poison the soil and the animals living in it and that it also ends up in the water?”
I asked if he knew a little about how real business life works and that the weed killers are the sponsors of major sporting events. So we just have fun with that mess.
My friend’s daughter was not made any happier by my story. After which I told her that I became filthy rich by investing my money earned through pranks in the arms industry. I started doing that in the 1990s. On the advice of an investment expert from a major bank. Because of all the wars and misery, those shares are rising insanely. Especially now. And the great thing is that every now and then I sing a timeless song about the unattainable peace, after which I put the money earned from it back into this lucrative stock portfolio. When I see an Israeli attack on Gaza I hear the cash register ringing. And not gently. That’s why I’m on my phone all day.
My friend called yesterday to say that my cynical humor is not the best medicine for her daughter. According to the girl, it’s not humor either. That’s just how it is. And you all know that very well.
Thursday night I lay awake in a Rotterdam hotel room. Awoken by one of the nightly explosions in that city. Sleep couldn’t get to me anymore. Reading and writing didn’t help. I heard the war news on the radio. Plus the evil plans of both parties and their supporters. I kept grinding. Crying was closer to me than napping. I thought: how on earth are we supposed to move on with the world?
Yesterday morning the bank called. My accurate investment advisor. He had a tip. The pharmaceutical companies are doing well. Especially those found in sleeping tablets and antidepressants. You have to get in now. Otherwise you are a thief of your own wallet.
A version of this article also appeared in the October 14, 2023 newspaper.