Comrades! Let us cast our gaze upon the glittering promises of the financial houses, those dens of the bourgeoisie who seek to ensnare the honest worker in a web of gold and paper. We are told by the likes of Madame Sorokina, a functionary of the consulting class, that there exists a distinction between the mere storage of gold within a bank's vault and the handing over of one's hard-earned capital to the money-lenders.

Consider the audacity of the system! Since the year 2022, these institutions have been granted a reprieve from the Value Added Tax upon the sale of precious metal ingots to the populace. Whether the worker clutches the gold in his own hand or entrusts it to the bank's iron chest, the tax is waived—a small crumb tossed to the masses to lure them into the maw of the monopoly.

This Sorokina asserts that gold placed in 'responsible storage' does not become the property of the bank. She invokes the rules of the banking houses and the Civil Code, claiming that the location of the ingot and the right of ownership are separate matters. Indeed, she proclaims:

> "If your individualised ingot lies within the bank's vault, the mere fact of its storage does not transform the bank into its owner."

But I ask you, workers: do you truly trust the word of the capitalist? They advise us to read the contracts with the utmost scrutiny. Why? Because the bourgeois lawyer is a master of the fine print! If the product is not a specific, individualised piece of metal, but some other 'financial instrument,' you are not an owner—you are a creditor to a machine designed for your exploitation!

When a man purchases a specific ingot and entrusts it solely for safekeeping, the law claims the ownership remains with the client. Yet, we must remember that the entire structure of the financial capital is built upon the misery of the proletariat.

While some, such as the financier Seleznev, preoccupy themselves with the 'key rates' of the Central Bank and the timing of their fluctuations, the fundamental truth remains: the gold of the few is forged from the sweat of the many. Beware the lures of the counting-house, for the yoke of the usurer is heavy, and his promises are as fleeting as the morning mist over the Thames.