Pray, observe the modern Commercialist! Having amassed fortunes that would make Midas blush, these gentlemen of the Bourse have developed a most peculiar phobia: the fear that someone, somewhere, might actually dare to take their gold. Thus, we behold a new and comical fashion sweeping through the upper strata of society—the art of the subterranean retreat.

It appears that the Swiss Alps, those majestic peaks usually reserved for the romantic wanderings of poets, have been eyed by the super-rich as the ideal site for their secret larders. A certain Monsieur Thomas Gasser, a gentleman of entrepreneurial spirit and head of the 'Brünig Mega Safe AG', has seen fit to carve out a series of vaults beneath the Brünig Pass, near the quaint hamlet of Lungern.

Imagine the scene! These speculators are prepared to part with a million Swiss francs—a princely sum indeed!—merely for the privilege of owning a hole in the rock for ninety-nine years. One can almost see the eager shareholders, clutching their bills of exchange, jostling for a spot in these twenty projected bunkers by the year 1828—ah, pardon me, 2028.

At a depth of one hundred metres, beneath a thickness of stone that would discourage even the most persistent burglar, the Magnates intend to secrete their gold, their vast hoards of coin, vintage wines, and perhaps a few gilded carriages. The promoter assures them of a security so absolute that it rivals the Swiss National Bank itself. Truly, the greed of a man is only surpassed by his desire to keep that greed safely tucked away from the sunlight!

But the madness does not stop in Europe. Word has reached us of certain IT-merchants—those peculiar wizards of the new age—who are constructing a sanctuary in Argentina, at the foot of the Andes. At the 'Huamaní' ranch, they have erected geodesic domes and landing strips, as if expecting a sudden visitation from Mars or a global catastrophe of nuclear proportions.

Most absurdly, they intend to power their calculating engines with the sun, ensuring that their 'Language Models' continue to chatter even if the rest of civilization has ceased to exist. One must admire the optimism of the Modern Swindler: he is perfectly prepared to survive the end of the world, provided he has a comfortable chair and his ledger remains intact.