0653/1956 76/86 Blue Skies NE10/20 75%H.
DOGS 12810 114.20 1556 48.59. Libor 14. Vix 16.
Greetings from the Hill.
Another beautiful day in paradise,
quiet streets without illegals working,
homeowners saving in the drought,
water rationing...
the oldman hosed daily
and irrigated sunday and wednesday.
"Just like in the old days!"
Adjusting to life without help.
"So all the indices are up what does that mean,"
not waiting for an answer as usual,
"Airline passengers and auto traffic
up twenty per cent on the year,
rooms seventy five per cent
and two fifty a night...
'the highest in the state',
that is conflicting information."
"That is a lot of food and booze,"
laughed the painter barging in
smelling the printer's treat.
"I'm selling the 'Green Parrot'
for two thousand dollars,"
bragging again.
The painter and the printer disagreed.
"I've been checking out the scene
in Canada in particular Toronto...
something is peculiar in reportage,"
the fellow had a funny way
of talking.
"Well, it seems the party in power
pissed away the surplus and gave
the banks billions...american banks,
then loaned GM billions for the plants
and put Toronto in debt default,"
huffing and puffing the joint,
"What do you think of that...eh!"
He never played hockey.
Steve was a goalie, a Bruin fan.
The pageant of a Royal Wedding,
the future King of Debt Kingdom,
a product of a wasted generation,
when Grannie would rock him
in Buckingham Palace
and tell him frightful stories
of the Iron Lady.
His daddy taught him riding,
the hounds and polo...
Momma showed him to smile.
He partied with the sons
of Rothschild and Gadaffy,
studied derivative financing
and flew a fighter plane.
"Sell the Bankers the Crown Jewels,"
laughed the painter,
leaving for Faustos.
"Hey....do you know that guy...
Pritham Singh, who is he...
ask Bill.
He was a Facebook Freak,
stealing family pictures,
posting social shots...
assholes advertising their secrets
to the information network,
all slightly insane
for fame,
but mostly recognition
and a pat on the head
or holy horsefuck...
a hug!
Time passes and nothing happens,
events drag on and on and on...
"Perhaps there is a plan to this delay."
postured the one still there,
"If the Federal Reserve holds MBS
of Fanny and Freddy bought by Libya
and other sovereign central banks...
then they could redeem them at face
and save the Treasury...indeed, indeed!"
A student of 'The Dollar'.
One might think that the 'dollar minders'
of the education system might acquire
some sense of the cents and dollars
before spending money not theirs,
but 'they' are the same assholes
with underwater mortgages
and notes being called,
the arrangers of the 'deal'
who know how to steal,
"Eighty Million in the Pot
to drive and feed and educate
' these thrice blessed children of
the Isles of the Eternal Sun'...
yes, yes, yes, the future hope
to live the dream of a better life,"
agreed the parents considering
new sod for the soccer field.
"Close the Fed and tear down HOB,"
leaving to oil some old lady's hinge.
The Federal Reserve Apparatus
was an interesting beast to dissect
before considering destuction,
Money at Zero Percent Interest
would seem a beneficial thing
for refinancing something old,
enabling the debtor to reduce
the monthly payments
and 'grow the savings'
allowing banks to expand
with increased leverage.
"Fractional Banking is the greatest thing,
and nothing ever collapses...
'don't mortgage the house for stock'
said granny in the Thirties,
'its not what you own...
but how much you owe',
boasted the Merchants of Debt
during the Seventies,
'and how 'it' was insured
in the Nineties
when those pesky financial products,
credit default swaps,
derivatives of exotic order
in a Shadow Banking System
run by Bernie Madoff at The Nasdaq...
who would have imagined then,"
wondered the oldman
thirsty in the afternoon.
Asshole's little war seems in trouble,
the pathetic boob can't say 'no'
to the Pentagon Bullies
or the Wall Street Bankers,
Gas, Oil, Water and Gold
to be given to
'the Popular Empowerment'
led by the CIA 'fallalful man'...
funnier than fuck
and Leon is getting Gates' job.
Bill Gross is going to Europe
with an ETF in equities,
perhaps a bank
with a dark basement.
Allianze owns his ass!
"Hey...I just sold another painting,"
laughing and opening a coldone,
"And monday pay the rent,"
always the songwriter
and master of drama.
Another summer on the block,
maybe able to walk around
and photograph the buildings,
the old friends with their past,
taking imagination into memory,
"A funny cartoon TV household comedy,"
suggested the voice in the hallway
watching silently...
back from war.
"I brought you a present and more,"
flipping a five ounce Lybian gold dinar
on the bed beside his cane
and opening the painting.
Beyond the Reef.
Above the Horn.
Inside of Humour.
The painter and the printer disagreed.
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