0657/2008 82/88 Cloudy E5/10 75%H.
DOGS 10603,8119,1209,1851.LIBOR 24/41.
Greetings from the Hill.
A sad day in paradise...
Muggsy dying of old age,
not moving from the balcony,
enjoying her last breeze
in the Florida Keys.
Born under the bathtub,
she preferred the second floor.
She was a laptop that purred
with golden eyes of love.
Human eyes are mostly empty
or darting, scheming and lying.
The oldman loved his cats.
"All you can do is comfort her,"
sighs Tony, petting his pal,
encouraging her to drink.
Death sucked, the end of dreams
and memories of the past.
"And life, such a wasted pursuit
following others' schemes,
'The Great American Dream'
such a pathetic joke...
$13,301637817150.95 Big Total!
Follow the Joker on the Hill!"
A bad week for sleep,
watching and sometimes listening
to the monster in the corner
spewing lies with white teeth
and absurd flirting eyes,
not a male with balls...
the oldman thought of discovering
the creators and producers
of engineered idiocy,
the propaganda to keep
"The Weather Channel with Al,
another Disney jerkoff with
that nasal snot Abrams...
CNN moving to National Enquirer,
Ziggy,s glamour queen daughter with Joe,
then CNBC, pure fucking insanity,
asshole limeys interpreting economics,
experts on 'The City of London' swills,
the perpetrators of derivatives
to mass destruct America...
this engineered chaos through arguement,
domestic bickering on the sillyscreen,
personified confusion and never,
never ever, sensible discourse,
all to create a shitstorm of fear,
the great grey cloud of doubt,"
rages the oldman finishing his juice,
ready for coffee and whole wheat toast,
the winds were fucking with the classics,
it was not a good day to die.
"The mud seems to have filled the hole
and all the oil has disappeared,
Thad has taken command of the crisis
and the President is behind him,
Turdball is banished to Siberia
and that fool from Amoco is in charge
of the global giant...WePeeonYou,"
laughs the madone tending chores
and looking over his favorite cat.
Another beautiful day in paradise,
billowing clouds from Havana
in a cobalt blue sky,
palm leaves swaying,
quiet streets without tradesmen,
repairs and renovations delayed
for another year or two,
gentrification for flippers
"Million dollar mortgages on
five hundred thousand dollar houses,"
laughed Tony bringing up tomatoes
from the backyard garden,
lettuce and peppers grew on the balcony,
strawberries hung from the gable ends,
the idea was self sufficiency.
"What can he do anyway but talk,
he's the inspirational leader
for the people, all the people,
the oppressed, the depressed,
the unemployed and homeless
as well as billionaires,
and commander in chief...
that hat sucks because he ain't
what he pretends to be,"
snorted the gardener on his way,
riding about town at high noon
looking for treasures while
picking up beer for the blogist.
The oldman wondered if something good
might come from this financial crisis,
perhaps a lesson from 'The Way We Were',
but he knew different, been there before...
The Invisible Hands of Corporations,
a conspiracy book for the curious
about the olden days of 'The Company'
when an owner with bosses and thugs
allowed no snotnosed union...
the Depression and Communism bred unions
helped by leftist academics and politicians
then engulfed by war and isolationism,
Victory Bonds and women welding,
until the crippled returned...
Peace and the UN with VHA loans,
a picture window and new car
with a kid who becomes a jerk.
Everyone liked Ike then loved Camelot,
LBJ passed Civil Rights and went to war
and the seeds of government corruption
grew to deadly nightshades
in Tricky Dicky's Rose Garden.
Veterans mocked and disdained
as warriors in 'The Longest War'.
Forty years ago, before a SUV,
a cellphone or Plasma TV.
And really where are we...
still too blind to see.
Too deaf from DEBT.
"And the American Public refinanced
at record levels this week."
gushes a talking tits on CNBC."
Love those bank fees.
"Do you think those assholes
will keep up their payments,"
wondered a gambler in financing
the world of the 'little lady'
who loved her white goods,
never suspecting who controlled
the budget priorities of the household,
while Alan Greenspan was finger fucking
Ayn Rand and playing in a band.
"Who the fuck could have imagined,"
laughed Robert Rubin after suckering
the biggest asshole on the Hill,
"Gee, gosh...Just plain Bill."
That fellow who transferred social security
excess funds into general slush,
then lying about the intergovernment loan,
bullshitting all these years
believing his own lies,
a legend for fundraisers,
one wonders what happened to
Georgie Boy's Rangers,
another hustler on the book tour
and sure to be a commentator
on Rupert's Republican Channel.
"One big fucking sideshow with
senators as dancing fools for bucks,
congressmen drooling for fucks,
and the executive branch broken,
the biggest horse's asses,
making corporations human...
about as stupid as a market
that has a life,"
growled the oldman
popping a Miller's pint.
"Hey, maybe companies are hoarding
to avoid banks of all kinds,
circumvent the thieves
and let them eat their own shit."
How ironic that states might do the same.
"Not very likely when the FRBNY
is the holder of all things FIAT."
Such a mess beyond the understanding
of a curious oldman.
Taking the breeze
in the Florida Keys.
Praying for Muggsy.