Gregor MacGregor: The Most Successful Conman in History

Gregor MacGregor: The Most Successful Conman in History

Charles Ponzi. Bernie Madoff. Billy “Fyre Festival” McFarland. History is littered with the misdeeds of conmen
who pulled the wool over the public’s eyes and made a killing. Some, like Frank Abagnale – the model for
Leonardo Dicaprio’s character in Catch Me if You Can – pulled off cons so big they’ve
become legendary. But not even Abagnale could compete with our
subject today. Gregor MacGregor was many things: soldier,
pirate, pathological liar. He was also the man who pulled off the biggest
con in history. In 1821, MacGregor arrived in London with
tall tales of a new Latin American nation where fortunes could be made. Using his deadly charm, MacGregor managed
to not only swindle banks, investors, and ordinary people out of the 19th Century equivalent
of billions of pounds, he indulged in fabrications on such a colossal scale that even Europe’s
governments were fooled. But how did this Scottish nobody create a
con so big it swallowed an entire continent? Join us as we explore the life of Gregor MacGregor,
the most amoral adventurer to ever live. Birth of a Conman
When he came to tell the story of his birth many years later, Gregor MacGregor would never
let two details remain the same. He was born into high Scottish nobility. He was descended from the legendary outlaw
Rob Roy. His ancestors were adventurers who founded
Scotland’s doomed colony in the Darien Gap. The odd thing was, he needn’t have bothered. Gregor MacGregor’s background was interesting
enough even without his tall tales. Born on Christmas Eve, 1786, MacGregor came
from, well, the MacGregors, a Jacobite Clan that had only just been relegalized after
100 years as outlaws. While his dad wasn’t the chief, as MacGregor
would claim, his family were still notable. His grandpa had been an officer in what would
become the Black Watch. His father was a ship captain. In short, young MacGregor had action in his
blood. And in 1803, when MacGregor was only 16, that
blood would drive him to seek adventure in the British Army. As luck would have it, 1803 was the year the
Napoleonic Wars broke out, and MacGregor was hurriedly posted to the island of Guernsey
to defend against French invasion. But that invasion never came. Instead, MacGregor wound up living a deeply
unadventurous life of waiting around. Not that his time on Guernsey was all a waste. It was while on assignment that MacGregor
met his first wife. Maria Bowater was the sort of catch young
enlisted men used to dream about. Her father was an admiral, her family members
were MPs. Oh, and they were absolutely, stinking rich. In no time at all, MacGregor had charmed his
way into marrying her, much to the horror of her family. No sooner had they tied the knot then MacGregor
was using his wife’s money to buy himself the rank of captain and get transfered down
to Gibraltar. But while the weather may have been nicer
on Spain’s southern tip, life was still boring. For the next four years, MacGregor did nothing
but stand around, waiting for a French fleet that never came. Then, in 1809, just as MacGregor was planning
to give up and return to Scotland, excitement finally arrived. The year before, Napoleon had invaded Spain,
engulfing the whole of Iberia in the Peninsular War. Sensing a chance to give Napoleon a black
eye, the British decided to intervene. And that’s how Gregor MacGregor found himself
in Portugal fighting Napoleon’s forces. Yet even in the heat of combat, MacGregor
couldn’t settle. In October, he sold his rank of captain and
departed the British Army for the Portuguese one. But by May, 1810, he’d also got bored of
the Portuguese and resigned again. Come summer, 1810, MacGregor was back in Scotland,
feeling as unfulfilled as ever. But he was no longer merely “Gregor MacGregor.” On leaving the Portuguese Army, MacGregor
had started telling people he’d been knighted for his service, and was now “Sir MacGregor”. It was a stupid lie. A dumb, egotistical little lie that shouldn’t
have changed anything. Yet change things it did. When people didn’t question it, MacGregor
realized just how easy lying about even huge things really was. It was a revelation that would soon take the
young man to some very bizarre places. Life with the Liberator
In April, 1812, a ship pulled into port near Caracas, Venezuela, and disgorged a slender
Scot in his mid-twenties. It had been two years since MacGregor had
left Portugal disillusioned, and much had happened. In 1811, his wife had died, and his in-laws
had cut him off financially. So MacGregor had left Britain, in search of
something – anything – that would keep his mind occupied. Luckily, 1811 wasn’t short of opportunities
for a would-be adventurer. That year, Venezuela had declared independence
from Spain, kickstarting the South American Wars of Independence. So MacGregor had decided to get involved. No sooner had he landed than then-Republican
leader, Francisco de Miranda, had appointed him a cavalry officer. But it’d be an even bigger name in Caracas
society that MacGregor would soon get involved with, thanks to his 1812 marriage to Josefa
Antonia Andrea Aristiguieta y Llovera. Josefa, you see, was cousin to none other
than Simon Bolivar. Not that his newfound connection would immediately
work out well for MacGregor. Just months after his marriage, MacGregor
was in flight, running for safety as the First Venezuelan Republic fell to Spanish forces. Francisco de Miranda was captured, while both
MacGregor and Bolivar only escaped – heading in opposite directions – by the skin of their
teeth. And so began the period of Gregor MacGregor’s
life where he kept crossing paths with the greatest figure in Latin American history,
only for it all to keep going horribly pear-shaped. In 1813, for example, MacGregor volunteered
in the New Granada army, only to be assigned to a remote border town and miss Bolivar’s
Admirable Campaign and founding of the Second Venezuelan Republic. In 1814, the two both wound up in Cartagena
after the Second Republic fell, but Bolivar was forced into exile while MacGregor got
trapped in the siege of the city. Finally, MacGregor reconnected with Bolivar
in Haiti in early 1816 and joined his latest campaign. It was a campaign that would nearly cost MacGregor
his life. By now, most of Venezuela was back under Royalist
control. Bolivar’s plan was to land men at strategic
points along the coast, then coordinate a mass uprising. Put in charge of 600 troops, MacGregor was
quietly dropped at Ocumare. Unfortunately, the plan instantly fell apart,
Bolivar was forced into retreat, and MacGregor and his men were left standing on the shore,
their mouths dangling open as their ride disappeared. They were trapped in Royalist territory, over
300km from the nearest Republican stronghold. They had no boats, limited ammunition, even-more
limited provisions, and were surrounded by swampland. At that moment, it must’ve seemed to the
600 men like death was a certainty. They hadn’t counted on MacGregor’s talent
for self-preservation. In a remarkable feat of leadership, MacGregor
led his men on a march right through Royalist territory, executing innumerable brilliant
maneuvers to keep the enemy at bay. He tricked the Spanish troops into walking
into swamps. He had his men charge blockades on foot and
punch right through. It was like watching LeBron James lead Elmer
Fudd around a basketball court, with the dimwitted Royalists fumbling every play while MacGregor
ran circles around them, laughing. And yes, as far as we know, we are the only
YouTube channel delivering history via Space Jam 2 analogies. You’re welcome. After weeks of running battles, MacGregor
finally led his men into the safety of a Republican town. When news leaked of his 300km trek, the Republican
camps exploded. MacGregor became a hero overnight, his name
celebrated across the continent. Suddenly, everyone wanted to serve under him,
the guy who’d married into Bolivar’s family, and then out-Bolivared Bolivar. But, sadly, this isn’t a video about Gregor
MacGregor, revolutionary general. It’s a video about Gregor MacGregor, conman
extraordinaire. Those soldiers all clamouring to serve under
him didn’t know it yet, but MacGregor would soon lead countless of their number into early
graves. Third Time’s the Charm… In the wake of MacGregor’s daring escape
from Ocumare, Bolivar personally awarded him the Order of Libertadores – hopefully while
shuffling awkwardly and mumbling “sorry I abandoned you back there, bro.” But MacGregor was disappointed. He hadn’t gone through hell just to get
a shiny new medal. No, he wanted a promotion. A raise. Something to show the world he was a hero. If Ocumare wasn’t enough for his cousin-in-law,
MacGregor would just have to go one bigger. That fall, mercenaries up in Pittsburgh began
to whisper about a Scottish man doing the rounds, hiring people for a private invasion
of Spanish Florida. The Scot was a Portuguese knight, a Venezuelan
hero. More to the point, he was very generous. Anyone who joined him was being given titles
to huge estates in Florida. For the rough and tumble men of Pittsburgh’s
dive bars, it seemed like a no-brainer. Which is how in June, 1817, MacGregor was
able to sail for Amelia Island, Florida at the head of 200 mercenaries. There was just one minor catch. MacGregor didn’t actually own the land he’d
been dishing out to his private army. But, hey, while spoil a good invasion, right? Not when everything was going so well. And it really was. When the only Spanish garrison on the island
saw all these armed Americans, they assumed it was the head of a full-blown US force and
surrendered. Now all MacGregor needed to do was press his
advantage, take a few more forts, and he’d soon have another victory to rival Ocumare. But that didn’t happen. Instead, MacGregor declared Amelia Island
the Republic of East Florida, and then simply settled in to enjoy getting drunk and sunning
himself. For MacGregor’s men, this must’ve been
a “what the-?” moment. Then MacGregor started paying them in Republic
of East Florida dollars he’d made himself and it became a “Whaaa-?!” Finally, one morning in September, the mercenaries
awoke to find MacGregor had taken the ship and remaining money and simply sailed away,
leaving them to their fates. At that point, they probably couldn’t even
summon a squeak of surprise to show how they felt. Following the Florida failure, MacGregor badly
fell out of favor with Bolivar. So he tried again. In 1818, MacGregor sailed back to Britain,
hired 500 more men, and this time tried to conquer Panama. Landing a force of 200 at Porto Bello, he
took the city… …and then went straight back to lounging
around in the sun, drinking rum and failing to do anything that might stave off a potential
Spanish counterattack. This last bit proved important when the potential
counterattack became an actual counterattack and MacGregor was forced to flee, once again
leaving his mercenaries to their fates. By now, the Scot was starting to look less
like the capable general of Ocumare, and more like a shallow egotist who’d just happened
to get lucky. But his name still carried enough shine for
MacGregor’s surviving men to follow him on one last invasion. In October, 1819, MacGregor landed outside
a Royalist holdout on Venezuela’s coast. It was the exact same checklist as Amelia
Island and Porto Bello: MacGregor takes city? Check. MacGregor gets drunk rather than organize
defenses? Check. When things go south MacGregor sails away
and leaves his men to their fates? Double check. This time, those fates were particularly gruesome. After the Spanish retook the city, they lined
up all of MacGregor’s surviving mercenaries and had them shot. In the aftermath of MacGregor’s third colossal
screw up, Simon Bolivar didn’t so much throw the book at him as crush him beneath an entire
library of disapproval. Bolivar declared his cousin-in-law a traitor. He issued a decree that any Venezuelan who
saw MacGregor should kill him on sight. But while this was the end of MacGregor’s
time as a revolutionary warrior, it wasn’t the end of the man himself. When he resurfaced, it was going to be with
a con that would go down in history. The Con is On Sprawling along the Caribbean coasts of modern-day
Nicaragua and Honduras, the Mosquito Shore is exactly as unappetizing as its name suggests. It’s a hot, wet, desolate place where life
is cheap, disease is rife, and mosquitoes omnipresent. In April, 1820, Gregor MacGregor hopped off
a boat and vanished into the mangrove forests of this tropical Hell, desperate to lose himself. By now, it wasn’t just Bolivar who wanted
him dead. The Spanish, the Americans, the British…
all, for varying reasons, had MacGregor’s name on a hit list. In the movie of MacGregor’s life, this would
be the low-point, the part where all seems lost. But you know what always comes after the low
point in any movie script? The part where the hero triumphs. While hiding on the Mosquito Shore, MacGregor
came into contact with one of the local tribal leaders, a guy who styled himself King George
Frederick Augustus. Being a natural charmer, MacGregor got the
guy drunk and spent a few days partying with him. By the time he emerged from the king’s hut,
weary and hungover, MacGregor was clutching a title deed to 8 million acres of tribal
land. This piece of paper would become the basis
for his audacious next move. Back in MacGregor’s native Britain, the
nation was gearing up for the coronation of George IV. There were street parties. Dignitaries from all over the world. In fact, there were so many dignitaries no-one
noticed when one arrived from a country that didn’t exist. His Serene Highness Gregor MacGregor the First,
Sovereign Prince of the State of Poyais and its Dependencies, and Cacique of the Poyer
Nation arrived in London in summer, 1821. Just like with MacGregor’s fake knighthood
in 1810, no-one questioned his absurd new title. To understand why, you have to remember when
this story is set. In 1821, a whole bunch of new nations had
just exploded into existence: Mexico, Gran Colombia, Argentina, Chile, Paraguay, Peru. For Londoners, it wasn’t much of a stretch
to believe Poyais might be among them. Especially when the Poyais envoy was related
by marriage to Simon-freaking Bolivar. But MacGregor did more than just trade on
his connections to fool people. Under the pseudonym Thomas Strangeways, he
published a guidebook to Poyais, detailing the nation’s government, its geography,
its climate, its architecture. This was serious imagination, something Tolkein
would’ve been proud to write, and it was shot through with glimpses of a utopia. There was the soil, so fertile it could support
three harvests a year. There were the riverbeds, where lumps of gold
lay along the banks. And there was the fact that, uniquely for
Central America, Poyais had no tropical diseases. Trust us, that last one will soon seem bitterly
ironic. But why did MacGregor go to all this trouble
to invent a fake country? For an answer to that, you need to look to
London’s Scottish communities. That same summer, the Poyais envoy began visiting
them. He was offering them an opportunity, he said. An opportunity not just to better their own
lives by moving to Poyais, but an opportunity to establish Scotland’s first viable colony. A chance to make their country into a global
player. All they had to do, Gregor MacGregor told
his fellow Scots, was to buy one of these plots of Poyais land he was selling. Fertile land that would set them for life. Faced with such an offer, who could refuse? The Bubble
By the fall of 1822, interest in Poyais was running rampant. The first boatload of Scottish settlers had
just departed for the country, and a general bubble in Latin American securities was expanding. So when MacGregor asked a bank to underwrite
Poyais bonds, they simply nodded and handed him £200,000. Using that money, MacGregor opened Poyais
consulates across Britain, adding to the scheme’s veneer of legitimacy. For MacGregor, these were the salad days;
a phrase which means the heyday of something, which is an odd choice when you consider how
boring salad is. By winter, investment in Poyais bonds had
generated over a billion pounds in today’s money. And MacGregor was still selling land to gullible
Scots! The second boat of settlers departed in January,
1823. But there’s one problem with dispatching
boatloads of settlers to a non-existent country. What do you do when they finally arrive? Well, let’s find out. In November, 1822, the first ship reached
the Mosquito Shore. As the boat approached land, the Scottish
settlers all donned their fanciest outfits, and fired the gun so a Poyais boat would come
out and guide them to the capital. Instead, the gunshot echoed across the empty
waters and mangrove swamps, answered only by deafening silence. At first, the settlers assumed they must’ve
made a navigation error. So they all had their stuff unloaded onto
a deserted stretch of coast, and sent the captain off to find Poyais. It’s worth noting that these were not young,
hardy types desperate for adventure. Most of those caught up in the Poyais scheme
were older folks looking for an easy retirement, or families with young children. Surviving on a deserted stretch of tropical
shore was definitely not within their skillset. In March, 1823, the second ship joined the
stranded settlers. Incredibly, everyone still assumed their navigation
was off. Even when the captain of the first ship returned
and said “so, I’ve sailed all up and down this coast and there’s no Poyais,” they
told him, “err, obviously there is. Duh. Try again.” So off the captain went again. And the now hundreds-strong crowd of settlers
settled down to wait again. That same month, a hurricane battered the
Mosquito Shore, destroying supplies, and wrecking the remaining ship. Then the rains came. Thick, heavy, endless rains that left the
settlers soaked. Finally, in the wake of the rains, came the
mosquitoes. If you’ve ever been to the tropics in rainy
season, you’ll have seen just how thick the air can get with mosquitoes carrying yellow
fever and malaria. On the deserted shore, the insects mobbed
the unprepared settlers, biting them, infecting them. One by one, the abandoned Scots began to die. Babies passed away in their mothers’ arms. Elderly women died, wracked with malaria. Of the 200 or so Poyais settlers who reached
the Mosquito Shore, it’s estimated over two thirds were killed by tropical diseases. It was a massacre by neglect. A death sentence as sure as a firing squad. The only reason anyone survived is because
a ship from British Honduras just happened to pass and alert the colonial authorities. For the rest of 1823, the Royal Navy was overwhelmed
evacuating the survivors and intercepting ships headed for Poyais. By the year’s end, they’d stopped five
more settler ships, each carrying hundreds of people. Had they reached the Mosquito Shore, it’s
likely the death toll of the Poyais scheme would’ve topped a thousand. Back in London, news of the disaster first
broke in October, 1823. Immediately, lots of very angry people began
looking for Poyais’ charming envoy. But they were too late. MacGregor had fled England just before the
story arrived, taking as much of his ill-gotten cash as he could carry. It was a horrific denouement to the wildest
con ever pulled. Unbelievably, it still wasn’t over. Gregor MacGregor wouldn’t be done with the
Poyais scheme for another fifteen years. No Bad Deed Goes Unrewarded
From 1823 to 1838, MacGregor pulled his Poyais con again and again. Incredibly, he never faced any serious punishment
for it. Even after the harrowing tale of the survivors
got out, no-one in Europe could accept Poyais didn’t exist. MacGregor had simply lied too big. In the same way our brains wouldn’t be able
to process the revelation that, say, Hawaii wasn’t real, people in the 1820s just couldn’t
comprehend the idea that Poyais was fictional. When MacGregor settled in Paris, the French
government even made him an advisor on Latin American affairs! This despite MacGregor restarting his fake
bonds scheme in France. Although the scheme itself was busted in 1825,
MacGregor successfully blamed his French partners, and again got away Scot free. He even returned to London and got more bonds
underwritten for £800,000. While no investors bit this time, it wasn’t
because of the tragedy on the Mosquito Shore. It was because the Latin American securities
bubble had just burst, and no-one wanted to risk another. For the next few years, MacGregor hawked his
scheme up and down Britain. While he never again hit the big time, he
always had just enough money coming in to keep the fiction going, to keep people believing
in Poyais. Finally, in 1838, MacGregor’s wife Josefa
died. Suddenly alone in gloomy Britain, the conman
seems to have at last given up on his con. That October, MacGregor got on a boat and
sailed back to Caracas. He never mentioned Poyais again. So… this is the moment, right? The moment when MacGregor finally gets his
comeuppance. I mean, he’s headed back to Venezuela, the
very place Simon Bolivar left orders that he be killed on sight. If you’re hoping for a moral end to this
story, best switch off now and construct one in your own head. See, Bolivar had died all the way back in
1830, by which time he incredibly unpopular. With Bolivar’s name now mud, everyone was
like “I mean, do we really need to kill this random Scottish dude?” So they let MacGregor land. They even let him request an audience with
the government. At which point, Lady Luck dropped an utterly
undeserved gold nugget right into MacGregor’s lap. Remember Ocumare, the one time that MacGregor
actually acted like a hero? Well, General Carlos Soublette did. He’d been under MacGregor’s command during
that mission, and seen the conman at his best. Since he’d never followed MacGregor to Florida,
or Porto Bello, or even heard of Poyais, he had no idea of MacGregor’s true character. And now Soublette was a member of Venezuela’s
government. When he saw MacGregor, he basically let out
a cry and threw his arms around him. That was how, in 1838, Venezuela came to reinstate
Gregor MacGregor’s rank in its army, hand over twenty five years’ back pay, and give
him a generous pension. For the next seven years, MacGregor lived
in Caracas, wealthy, happy, and respected by all. He finally died a peaceful death on December
4, 1845, without having ever repented of his cons. Sometimes, life really is unfair. Today, it’s estimated that, between the
Poyais scheme and all those times he abandoned his men, Gregor MacGregor was responsible
for the deaths of 500 people. Yet even though he never got his comeuppance,
his story offers us all an excellent moral lessons. It’s easy to fall into the trap of assuming
that the world is fair. That maybe bad things sometimes happen, but
– in the end – everything will always balance out. The tale of Gregor MacGregor laughs in the
face of this. Here was a man who treated other people as
disposable trash, only there to fuel his own fantasies. A man who sacrificed literally hundreds of
lives to the God of his ego. And he never tasted justice for even a single
second. Unique among figures we’ve covered, MacGregor
offers us a bleak but necessary warning. Sometimes, good doesn’t triumph. Sometimes, the happy, wealthy, respected people
are the ones who have caused untold suffering. Gregor MacGregor may be long dead, but there
will always be others out there like him, charming and amoral. If his life shows us anything, it’s that
we should always be on the lookout for these people. Even when they seem to be the most respectable
types you could ever hope to meet.

100 thoughts on “Gregor MacGregor: The Most Successful Conman in History”

  1. It is truly admirable the amount of research you put into these videos. Always entertaining and informative, though just one question for today; this Gregor MacGregor, he wouldn't happen to have a modern age great-grandson with the first name Connor would he?

  2. I play to people's fantasies, people may not always think big themselves, but they still get very excited by those who do, that's why a little hyperbole never hurts. People want to believe that  something is the biggest and the greatest and the most spectacular. Truthful hyperbole I call it. “ Donald Trump

  3. Can you do Jho Low. He is currently on the run for stealing US$4.5 billion from the retirement savings of Malaysians. The Prime Minister of Malaysia at that time is currently on trial for corruption for his part in the scheme. Several murders are linked to the case including that of the deputy public prosecutor Kevin Morais who was encased alive in a barrel of cement, as well as the chairman of one of the banks (Hussain Ahmad Najadi) who was gunned down allegedly for asking questions regarding the transactions. Sounds like the stuff of pulp fiction.

  4. If the Scots had made a deal with Spain their colonial might not have failed. Imagine if they had made a deal, Spain would never have attacked them and they could have made an alliance with Catholic Spain and Ireland to form an alliance against the British (England). Spanish ships and troops in Scotland maybe, but then the UK would never have formed and history would have been different. If you love that idea and want to explore it in historical fiction or a movie please do so. Consider it a gift.

  5. Maya Hiort Petersen

    That was fantastic!! Thank you! The amount of research and Simon is great, just great. (I have to say though, that the lights in the background are a bit of a pity. It's distracting.)

  6. 24:10 Except now we know the truth and he will forever be remembered as a piece of human garbage.
    If he has any descendents they will deny being related to him.
    I don't think you should discount Karma just yet.

  7. Trump is real close to beating this man out , withholding 400 million dollars of military aid to the Ukraine, Russia could have laid them to waste.

  8. It's called destiny. It can not be made and it cannot be changed. It doesn't matter what you do or what you don't do. Where ever your moral compass takes you, it is destiny that commands your ship. Notions of good or evil are just decorative.

  9. The Gregorich or the children of the mist as the MacGregors were known were a slippery Clan, not unlike the pikeys of today society.

  10. Natwarlal was a noted Indian con man known for having repeatedly "sold" the Taj Mahal, the Red Fort, and the Rashtrapati Bhavan(President's House) and also the Parliament House of India along with its sitting members

  11. Continental Breakfast

    Hello Simon, could you and the team maybe make a video on Margaret Thatcher?
    Thanks beforhand and keep up the amazing work!! Love this Chanel!

  12. How many people paused the video to research about Space Jam 2? I didnt know there was one coming in 2021. Thanks, Biographics!

  13. 21:31 Maybe this is the origin of the term 'Scot Free", as in someone getting away with something bad 'Scot Free' referring to immoral Scotsman like McGregor.

  14. 23:09 this is how God really works. The idea if you have faith or do good then good things will come your way? Apparently, not, McGregor's life demonstrates that even if you do foul, maybe just maybe, things will go good for you. Maybe the Gnostics were spot on correct and the Pope knows it, and his clothes don't show it, the Archbishop of Canterbury surly knows it and that is why England is run how England is run.

  15. In my 40's (long time ago), I worked for a securities firm, we sold shares of private placements in private hedgefunds (with high commissions), always dissappointed we couldn't get into Maddoff funds… well, no surprise, sooner or later, we got what we were looking for… damn. I still feel bad about how much money I made from selling those shares that year….

    but, good old Gregor, has taken a load off. Thanks, GMG!!! And goddamn it Simon, what is that weird glowing disc behind you? Did the lizard aliens put that in your library… is that how they operate your cerebellum? Do they have you "by the brain stem" buddy? Anyway, as always, really enjoy these vinettes, after a cup, a puff, & a snort. Thanks much.

  16. 500 estimated to have died as a result of this conman's activity, that's nothing compared to the conmen who run governments!

  17. Yeah to me it's still a toss up between him and Victor Lustig. One sold a nonexistent country, the other sold the Eiffel tower…. Twice

  18. So basically he is the very model of a successful modern politician. Tony B liar being my first thought, the Clinton's or Trump or DICK Cheney! Only in their case it was not hundreds who died but hundreds of thousands, whole nations were (Iraq, Libya, Syria, Afghanistan, Yemen, Lebanon, Ukraine. Brazil. Bolivia etc etc. destroyed and the evil got richer and the general population poorer while voting for more of the same 'austerity' or 'trickle down theory'. It seems evil does very well if you ask me!

  19. Life may not be inherently fair, and yeah, the good can suffer and the evil can get away with everything, but that's why it's all the more important that we do whatever we can to make life as fair as possible, to make sure the liars and cheats do not have time to enjoy their ill-gotte gains.

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