Larry BurkettCritiques
Auteur de Debt-Free Living
Critiques
The year was 1992. I was nine years old, and two months into fifth grade. My parents had just moved us to a new house, which meant a new school, and the kids in my class were about to spend three days taking a standardized test-- the same standardized test I had taken a couple of weeks before at my old school. The new school obviously thought it would be dandy if I would consent just to take the test again, but I refused. So for three days, I sat in the principal's office and read while my classmates clutched No. 2 pencils and stared at row after row of scantron bubbles.
Don't ask why I wasn't allowed to stay home instead of sitting in the principal's office, because I have no idea. But in those days, I didn't really care where I was sitting as long as I was allowed to read. Yes, I say "allowed" to read, because I read so much that my mother would occasionally tear the book out of my hands in exasperation, hoping to jolt me into participating in conversation at the dinner table. The woman who cut my hair when I was growing up told me later that she was always terrified that my hair would come out noticeably crooked, because I insisted on having my head bent down toward my book during my haircuts.
Back to the story. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, hanging out in the school administrative offices at age 9 with a book approximately the size of my head. But this book blew me away. I was riveted. Fascinated. It was, now that I think about it, probably my very first step into a dystopian future. I remember astonishing levels of detail, twenty years later, down to the year, make, and model of the car that figures into one of the escape scenes. (A 1993 Chevy Caprice, if you care, which you don't, because it is the epitome of trivial detail. Still, as a kid I loved the idea of a capricious car, which is probably why I remember it.)
This is the book that first taught me the word "tsunami," a word that no one else around me learned until 2004. This is the book that first caused me to think about how credit cards and debit cards could be used to track someone's movements. This is the book that first sent me fumbling in my pocket for a dollar bill, to examine for myself the weird eyeball on top of a pyramid that was pictured there. Finally, this is the book that is probably at the root of my tendency to develop mild crushes on computer nerds.
So twenty years later, I tip my hat to Larry Burkett. Thanks for writing a book that captivated me completely.
Not very believable.
Moderately entertaining.
No need for a second read.
Ce site utilise des cookies pour fournir nos services, optimiser les performances, pour les analyses, et (si vous n'êtes pas connecté) pour les publicités. En utilisant Librarything, vous reconnaissez avoir lu et compris nos conditions générales d'utilisation et de services. Votre utilisation du site et de ses services vaut acceptation de ces conditions et termes.
I read this book twice over a period of several years. I kept coming back to it because of it's accessible narrative. The author demystifies complex economic concepts for the average reader (likely honed from years of experience in radio broadcasting). The book is part history lesson and part novel, as the author weaves fictional (cautionary?) tales between his more explanatory chapters.
The book's first half provides a historical backdrop of the U.S. economy, tracing pivotal moments from the establishment of the Federal Reserve through the Great Depression, WWII, and various economic crises. It does a good job of explaining history and setting the stage for understanding today's economic challenges. Later in the book he identifies a series of signals (predictions) which portend a coming collapse. His description of risky banking practices and loans to notably unscrupulous characters like Donald Trump made me laugh...and then realize time has borne out his prediction.
Here are some of his key points:
Although some of Burkett's predictions may seem extreme (such as the collapse of the dollar being orchestrated by evildoers at the World Bank -- as described in his final cautionary tale), many of his signs of economic distress are now visible. His advice on individual financial preparedness, advocating for debt avoidance, living within one's means, prioritizing retirement planning, and engaging in the political process to encourage a stable economy, remains as relevant today as it was over three decades ago.
Overall, The Coming Economic Earthquake is a good read for those interested in economic theory, fiscal policy, and personal financial planning. There weren't too many Christian overtones, despite Burkett's background. I've added it to my permanent financial insights bookshelf along with other topics as The Bitcoin Standard and The Creature from Jekyll Island.
Whether or not you subscribe to Burkett's predictions, the work serves as a thought-provoking analysis of the potential consequences of unchecked economic policies in a world of fiat currency.
Review Post Script
I found the closing below in an earlier draft of my review, written back in February 2022 after my first reading of Burkett's work. I think it still has value.
As I worked my way through the second half of the book, the idea that this book was a "history of the future" was foremost in my mind. Mr. Burkett's writing is prescient. There are far, far too many parallels with what has happened in the 30 years since its publication: bank failures, government bailouts, quantitative easing to fund the debt, and even centrally-controlled digital currencies.
This work makes clear that the world we know today (the world of fiat currency and a debt-based economy) was destined to fail from the outset. We are only waking up to it today. Fortunately, today we have a way out -- pure peer-to-peer currency. Money out of the hands of the banks and governments. Sovereign currency that can't be debased. Bitcoin.
I am now more convinced than ever that adoption of a bitcoin standard is the only thing that can save the world.