Nelly:
You know what always bothered me, Joe? Money that just… sits there. Like a dragon on a pile of gold. It doesn’t sing. It doesn’t move. It just watches people starve.
Joe:
That’s because modern money is afraid of time. It pretends it can live forever. But anything that refuses to circulate turns toxic. Blood. Water. Power. Money.
Nelly:
So you give it a clock.
Joe:
Exactly. A gentle one. Five percent. Not a punishment—more like gravity.
We call it demurrage… but Canadians need poetry.
Nelly (smiling):
Magna Canada.
Joe:
Like the Magna Carta, but for people who don’t own castles.
A negative interest miracle. Five percent a year, quietly erasing the weight on the poor.
Nelly:
So if you’re drowning in debt, time becomes your ally instead of your enemy.
Joe:
Yes. The poor finally get what the rich have always had: patience.
Their debts slowly dissolve, like snow in April.
Nelly:
And the rich?
Joe:
They discover something terrifying.
Money that refuses to be hoarded.
Nelly:
So they have to do something with it.
Joe:
Spend it. Build with it. Share it. Invest in people instead of locking it in vaults and offshore ghosts.
Nelly:
No more winning by doing nothing.
Joe:
That’s the real revolution.
Under Magna Canada, laziness isn’t profitable—creativity is.
Nelly:
It’s kind of biblical, isn’t it?
No usury. No endless compounding sin. Just… circulation.
Joe:
The Jubilee, rewritten in decimals.
Every year the system whispers: Use me, or lose me.
Nelly:
And nobody’s screaming “tax the rich.”
Joe:
Because it’s not a guillotine. It’s a clock.
Five percent saying: Money is a tool, not a throne.
Nelly:
I like that.
The miracle isn’t that the poor get richer.
Joe:
It’s that the rich finally remember money is supposed to move.
Nelly (softly):
Magna Canada.
A country where time heals debt instead of sharpening it.
Joe:
Where wealth circulates like a song—
and no one’s punished for being born without a chorus.