Sunday, March 23, 2014

Wisdom Is

Wisom is
the booby prize
given when you've been
-Piet Hein

Friday, March 21, 2014

Name that Deity

Which when Beelzebub perceiv'd, then whom,
Satan except, none higher sat, with grave [ 300 ]
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd
A Pillar of State; deep on his Front engraven

Deliberation sat and public care;

And Princely counsel in his face yet shon,
Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood [ 305 ]

With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear

The weight of mightiest Monarchies; his look
Drew audience and attention still as Night
...these Titles now
Must we renounce, and changing stile be call'd
Princes of Hell?
or so the popular vote
Inclines, ...

A growing Empire;
doubtless; while we dream, [ 315 ]
And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd
This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat

...For he, be sure
In heighth or depth, still first and last will Reign
Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part [ 325 ]
By our revolt, but over Hell extend
His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule
Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav'n.


what peace will be giv'n
To us enslav'd, but custody severe,
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment
Inflicted? and what peace can we return, [ 335 ]
But to our power hostility and hate,
Untam'd reluctance, and revenge though slow,
Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least

May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce
In doing what we most in suffering feel? [ 340 ]

...What if we find
Some easier enterprize? There is a place [ 345 ]
Of some new Race call'd Man...
To be created like to us, though less
... but favour'd more [ 350 ]
Of him who rules above; ..

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn

And where thir weakness, how attempted best,
By force or suttlety: Though Heav'n be shut,
And Heav'ns high Arbitrator sit secure
In his own strength, this place may lye expos'd [ 360 ]
The utmost border of his Kingdom, left
To their defence who hold it: 

...and drive as we were driven,The punie habitants, 

or if not drive,
Seduce them to our Party, that thir God
May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand
Abolish his own works. This would surpass [ 370 ]
Common revenge, and interrupt his joy
In our Confusion, and our Joy upraise
In his disturbance; when his darling Sons
Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse
Thir frail Original, and faded bliss,
[ 375 ]
Faded so soon.
Advise if this be worth
Attempting, or to sit in darkness here
Hatching vain Empires.
Thus Beelzebub
Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis'd
By Satan, and in part propos'd: for whence, [ 380 ]
But from the Author of all ill could Spring
So deep a malice,

Sunday, March 16, 2014

These decades, we all say the same fucking things. Fucking niggers. Wash our mouths out with decades of soap.

A man on the mend from feeling somewhat sexy.  Somewhat dishevelled, rightly so by my thirieth year of physiologically exhausting, physically unstimulating living.  Bachelor without benefits. Hell, okay, maybe I am a little ragged, I feel unkempt. The place to be for the man I am.  Is honesty yet fashionable?  I can't remember.  It'll wait, I suppose.  The poverty of freedom must come second to the swastika. HO!

It holds a certain boldness, this sacrament.  An amiable ferocity that takes neither solace nor placation. I gaze with uncomfortable restless eyes, as always, but perhaps steadier, somewhat more predatory than normal.  Usual is the right word, but normal fits in tidier.

I suppose I will say little to thee, master, teacher.  Save perhaps indicate what presuppositions you hold. These supple minds, not unlike mine, so readily accept what told.

So here I am again.  Inhibited diluted Sober.  We can synthesize better.  But that is a project for another; production is ample to the task.  The market is always curiously cheap.  Wholesale always.  Neat.

The sellers are unusually likely to be cool.  But that would be of a kind with a chemical of such potency per microgram, and comparatively difficult to synthesize.

This is the sacrament of my fleeting religion - of which I've said enough. I, "economist".

Glory be to the Father and son and holy Spirit! As it was in the beginning, is now - and ever shall be. World without end. Amend.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

The Street Church of Calgary

I had seen "Calgary's Street Church" providing food to their lines of rough-looking characters. Hungry workers unemployed, ill fed drug users or the mentally deranged . I wondered where this church got the money to feed the clients, who could not promise anything in exchange, and whether the food was sanitary enough for me to eat.

This much, Mayor Nenshi, City Hall, the Police have seen.

Yet, by and by, I chanced to walk by and I listened to their preacher/crier. He was not much better dressed than the people being fed. I did not get the impression that the preacher was offering job training or protection or even respect. I had the impression that his were words of certainty. He seemed warning them, and urging them to consider their eternal souls foremost.

I heard "Calgary's Street Church" rebuke evil deeds which the poor can control. He lacked Occupy concern about reallocating domains of control.

A polite little hurry.

A friend's financial adviser, embarrassed when he encountered her in a Casino, stumbled out something about her mother's bingo. They soon parted ways, tense, in a polite little hurry.

Monday, January 20, 2014

On an old cathode ray Television, with bunny ears, only now a digital signal converting box to improve the bandwidth of the city's spectra of photon emissions, refractions, radio waves and laser beams.  But the content of the news has not much improved.

It's plastered all over the Calgary Sun (The local rag that many people end up reading while eating lunch), CTV and CBC, they report a case of the measles, not even a reported second infection, or establishment in a sub-population.

But those on the roads Cough, people waiting in check out lines, knowing they couldn't hold much longer, the particularly persistent irritation.  A slow mucus flow.

There seems to be gentle plauge that has swept flowing though Calgary.

 You cannot help but wonder if the sick person is more miserable than those in close contact to him.  No doubt a frail saint hold not a merry thing against you though your very breath could push her to the grave.  But such sensibilities of complacent compassion, implicit forgiveness are lost to those who get out on the wrong side of their bed. (Colloquial: Irritable in addition to whatother problem)

But of course that's just what someone needs.  To get on a crowded train where ill controlled airflows swirling tiny droplets with tiny pathogens.  Spittle flicks through fingers and lands on the buttonscreen of you cellphone is awful, but when they wash their hands then handle cash with *lick* quick flicks the moistened finger had pulled the bills from the wallet, and had already outfoxed him too.

I cannot be the only person to notice the frequency of people coughing in public.  For all I know attention was drawn to me of this phenomenon of the uncomfortable punctuation between which slow breaths after scarcely breathing during outbursts of droplets

Far more than the usual, though it would take some doing to figure out just where to whom spread.

Easily fifty coughs heard by others.   More, certainly by me.  I'm sure I go days without hearing someone cough, at least no more than the cuticles on my index finger.

Are you listening to the pulse? It doesn't have to be unusual or significant (Though I appreciate the discussion of rare and exotic creatures be a source of fascination.) but while your eyes fixed on cellphones, a dry cough, it's always cough cough cough cough particularly hard to stop, but coming in bursts with the slow seeping of mucus into the lungs.

And Where is "Canada's broadcasting Corporation" eh?  The weather's the best thing on the evening news.  From Fox News to the New York Times, these organizations are fun, well paid jobs.  Unprofitable, outmoded  long before the cash tap eases. in the information gathering and conveyance models of their streaming.

The way the news occurs is when people open their eyes.  Look around them.  And listen to the communication. Hacked more codes, a slightly moist but not burbling tone.  And as they breathed shallowly for decorum, but unexpectedly overtaken to the purposes of THAT media WHICH IS a mode of human news that the "News" business blithely, blindly, preoccupied, smiling walks blindly by.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

 From Zero Hedge dot com.
"Chalk this one up to US (f)austerity, and a $1.1 trillion omnibus spending bull that forgot to add Pentobarbital among the billions in pork spending.
Two months ago we reported that due to a shortage of Pentobarbital, Ohio would be unable to execute death row convicts. It appears that the shortage has persisted into the new year, and now some states are taking matters into their own hands. Or rather the hands of the firing squad."

I have lighted upon themes which I now recognize are the subject of history.  In addition to larceny, timely aid and genocide, the vast archives of resources are a part of the finite trajectory of human history.  It befits what remains of posterity to offer a modicum of historical digestion on the way down.  How else are we to provide for our descendants?

I have wondered whether I should be more prudent in the consideration of what I lay down.  In the end, I shall err on being truthful.  If you have found me, you probably are long in the future and a prodigiously fact processor information to condescend to trace so trivial a glimpse of significance.  Or you a fool, who has better uses of his time, as I have, than implicating myself of most terrible madness.

Zero hedge is really a fascinating source.  It is messy, eccentric as the market trajectories, anonymous.  It can easily evade attention, although I see it has a following.

I'm sympathetic to the topicality or ideology.  Visualized data, brief and varied discussions of kinds of data (mainly financial markets, and some aspects of Durden (Tyler) are goldbuggish.  But like a swarm of bugs,.