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margarita
NP High Priestess

Total Posts: 322
Joined: Oct 2004
 
Posted: 2004-12-13 11:23

No claim of ownership of the below whatsoever...

 

The outlook was not brilliant for the economy that day

The forecast three point four, with no more tax cuts left to play

And when the Dow lost momentum and the Nasdaq did the same

A pall like silence fell upon the investors in the game

 

A straggling few got up to go and leave the market to the rest

Others held to hopes that spring eternal in the human breast

If only Greenspan would get a chance to aim his arsenal at that

We'd put in much more money, with Greenspan at the bat

 

But Iraq looked a'threatening, and the dollar was a'tumbling

And inflationary thunder was from far off places rumbling

So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat

For there seemed little chance that mighty Greenspan could fix that

 

But December retailing wasn't overheated to the wonderment of all

And core inflation didn't escalate from the levels in the fall

And when the dust had lifted and markets saw what had occurred

There was good old Alan, with all hanging on his word

 

There was ease in Greenspan's manner as he sat down at his place

There was a pride in Greenspan's bearing and some wrinkles on his face

And when he looked at Congress with his glasses on his nose

It was clear big Al had answers for the questions they might pose

 

He signalled to the markets, that no more would rate hikes fly

And that income-starved consumers could just keep their debt loads high

From the traders in the bond pits there went up a joyous cheer

That echoed into housing starts and sent stocks up that year

 

But as the year just marched along they saw his muscles strain

And they knew that mighty Greenspan wouldn't be around again

For his turn at bat was over and so now he had to go

Leaving some Bush-league appointee to try to run the show

 

Oh somewhere in this favoured world the sun is shining bright

The currency is rising and investors' hearts are light

And somewhere charts are leaping, and buyers give a shout

But there is no joy in America - Mighty Greenspan's term is out.


Prada issues high-heeled bonds.

FDAXHunter
Founding Member

Total Posts: 8349
Joined: Mar 2004
 
Posted: 2004-12-13 11:33
Applause

The Figs Protocol.

granchio


Total Posts: 1530
Joined: Apr 2004
 
Posted: 2014-08-20 17:15
when you start feeling old - I miss Kubrik
...
Left right left right left right left -
left right left right left right left
I don't want no teenage queen - I don't want no teenage queen
I just want my M 14 - I just want my M 14
If I die in the combat zone - if I die in the combat zone
Box me up and ship me home - box me up and ship me home
Pin my medals upon my chest - pin my medals upon my chest
Tell my Mom I done my best - tell my Mom I done my best
Bury my body to six foot down - bury my body to six foot down
'Til you hear it hit the ground
'til you hear it hit the ground
When it hits the bottom you'll hear me say -
When it hits the bottom you'll hear me say.
I wanna be your drill instructor -
I wanna be your drill instructor
I wanna cut off all of my hair -
I wanna cut off all of my hair
I wonna be your drill instructor -
I wanna be your drill instructor

"Deserve got nothing to do with it" - Clint

jslade


Total Posts: 1089
Joined: Feb 2007
 
Posted: 2017-09-08 07:18
Whenever I read the funny papers I read Robinson Jeffers "be angry at the sun" to avoid blowing a gasket:

That public men publish falsehoods
Is nothing new. That America must accept
Like the historical republics corruption and empire
Has been known for years.

Be angry at the sun for setting
If these things anger you. Watch the wheel slope and turn,
They are all bound on the wheel, these people, those warriors.
This republic, Europe, Asia.

Observe them gesticulating,
Observe them going down. The gang serves lies, the passionate
Man plays his part; the cold passion for truth
Hunts in no pack.

You are not Catullus, you know,
To lampoon these crude sketches of Caesar. You are far
From Dante's feet, but even farther from his dirty
Political hatreds.

Let boys want pleasure, and men
Struggle for power, and women perhaps for fame,
And the servile to serve a Leader and the dupes to be duped.
Yours is not theirs.



"Learning, n. The kind of ignorance distinguishing the studious."

lmog


Total Posts: 124
Joined: Mar 2010
 
Posted: 2017-09-10 19:46
I need to think of this poem more often.

chiral3
Founding Member

Total Posts: 5002
Joined: Mar 2004
 
Posted: 2017-09-10 21:13
I like Kipling's "If". Similar stoic underpinnings. I obtained a nice print of it and made a frame from a cherry tree I felled in my back yard and gave it to my son.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Nonius is Satoshi Nakamoto. 物の哀れ
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