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THIS IS NOT A GAME...
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IT'S A DEBT TOGA PARTY!
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THE SULTAN OF BULLSHIT
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Visual Combat Fine Art Prints
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We can only hope.
This is Hope we can believe in. ;-)
Thank you very much for that.
Coincidently, my Mom loved walking around Hampstead and the Heath.
Just as fine as Moon Pie and RC Cola at the end of the row.
This is no game. You might think this is a game, but, trust me, this is no game.
This is not something where rock beats scissors or paper covers rock or rock wraps itself up in paper and gives itself as a present to scissors. This isn’t anything like that. Or where paper types something on itself and sues scissors.
This isn’t something where you yell “Bingo!” and then it turns out you don’t have bingo after all, and what are the rules again? This isn’t that, my friend.
This isn’t something where you roll the dice and move your battleship around a board and land on a hotel and act like your battleship is having sex with the hotel.
This isn’t tiddlywinks, where you flip your tiddly over another player’s tiddly and an old man winks at you because he thought it was a good move. This isn’t that at all.
This isn’t something where you sink a birdie or hit a badminton birdie or do anything at all with birdies. Look, just forget birdies, O.K.?
Maybe you think this is all one big joke, like the farmer with the beautiful but promiscuous daughter. But what they don’t tell you is the farmer became so depressed that he eventually took his own life.
This is not some brightly colored, sugarcoated piece of candy that you can brush the ants off of and pop in your mouth.
This is not playtime or make-believe. This is real. It’s as real as a beggar squatting by the side of the road, begging, and then you realize, Uh-oh, he’s not begging.
This is as real as a baby deer calling out for his mother. But his mother won’t be coming home anytime soon, because she is drunk in a bar somewhere.
It’s as real as a mummy who still thinks he’s inside a pyramid, but he’s actually in a museum in Ohio.
This is not something where you can dress your kid up like a hobo and send him out trick-or-treating, because, first of all, your kid’s twenty-three, and, secondly, he really is a hobo.
All of this probably sounds oldfashioned and “square” to you. But if loving your wife, your country, your cats, your girlfriend, your girlfriend’s sister, and your girlfriend’s sister’s cat is “square,” then so be it.
You go skipping and prancing through life, skipping through a field of dandelions. But what you don’t see is that on each dandelion is a bee, and on each bee is an ant, and the ant is biting the bee and the bee is biting the flower, and if that shocks you then I’m sorry.
You have never had to struggle to put food on the table, let alone put food on a plate and try to balance it on a spoon until it gets to your mouth.
You will never know what it’s like to work on a farm until your hands are raw, just so people can have fresh marijuana. Or what it’s like to go to a factory and put in eight long hours and then go home and realize that you went to the wrong factory.
I don’t hate you; I pity you. You will never appreciate the magnificent beauty of a double rainbow, or the plainness of a regular rainbow.
You will never grasp the quiet joy of holding your own baby, or the quiet comedy of handing him back to his “father.”
I used to be like you. I would put my napkin in my lap, instead of folding it into a little tent over my plate, like I do now, with a door for the fork to go in.
I would go to parties and laugh—and laugh and laugh—every time somebody said something, in case it was supposed to be funny. I would walk in someplace and slap down a five-dollar bill and say, “Give me all you got,” and not even know what they had there. And whenever I found two of anything I would hold them up to my head like antlers, and then pretend that one “antler” fell off.
I went waltzing along, not caring where I stepped or if the other person even wanted to waltz.
Food seemed to taste better back then. Potatoes were more potatoey, and turnips less turnippy.
But then something happened, something that would make me understand that this is no game. I was walking past a building and I saw a man standing high up on a ledge. “Jump! Jump!” I started yelling. What happened next would haunt me for the rest of my days: the man came down from the building and beat the living daylights out of me. Ever since then, I’ve realized that this is no game.
Maybe one day it will be a game again. Maybe you’ll be able to run up and kick a pumpkin without people asking why you did that and if you’re going to pay for it.
Perhaps one day the Indian will put down his tomahawk and the white man will put down his gun, and the white man will pick up his gun again because, Ha-ha, sucker.
One day we’ll just sit by the fire, chew some tobacky, toast some marshmackies, and maybe strum a tune on the ole guitacky.
And maybe one day we’ll tip our hats to the mockingbird, not out of fear but out of friendliness.
If there’s one single idea I’d like you to take away from this, it is: This is no game. The other thing I’d like you to think about is, could I borrow five hundred dollars?
(Author’s Note: Since finishing this article, I have been informed that this is, in fact, a game. I would like to apologize for everything I said above. But please think about the five hundred dollars.)
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2006/01/09/060109sh_shouts?printable=true¤tPage=all
CF,
Can't believe this came from the Neeew Yawkker; but it is an excellent piece. Actually made me laugh, and grin.
Love this album by Tull, William as I spit out pieces of my broken lung. Locomotive breath was my favorite song, thus generating this comment;
"Where can I get off??????" as it is all downhill from here in.
It was a coldfire morning when the aspens popped. It was deer hunting season in Wisconsin but it was very cold that year. Normally, the trees do not pop but it hit -20F. The walls of the hunting shack even creaked on the encroachment of the cold.
We awoke at 4:30 AM. Coffee was made and awoke even the late risers by smell alone. Ahh, yes, coffee, it just has a wonderful aroma that wanders about and arouses the senses. Eggs were cracked into the hot pan. Bacon sizzled in another skillet. All the while we were mindful of the temperature outside. We threw more logs into the fire as we considered the weather. Crackle. There always needs to be fire. Handwarmers were lit. Candy bars were packed.
We dispersed, flashlights and all, into the freezing darkness.
I will be honest here, that story actually did happen.
Do you want to know what happened next?
Coldfire, I have been there and done that. I mean no disrespect.
All that "..acky" stuff has me guessing.....
If you of my loved ones ever becomes stranded or lost, I hope you come along.
P.S. I feel like a million dollars right now, I just need to borrow one. In case you find a benefactor.
"The hare has lost his spectacles"
Mr. Banzai, it is amazing how many years have passed, seems like yesterday.
Thank-you,
I'll head to the cellar tomorrow and dust of the Thorens.
Passion Play was not as popular some of their other works, but along with Thick As a Brick, it was one of my favorities. And speaking of a Brick...
"Summoned by name I am the overseer over you."
My favorite Tull record.
From the same era and milieu:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AcyScNtYiA
King Henry by Steeleye Span
don't mean to date myself.... but first concerts-
fourth grade- deep puple- think ruffled white shirts and shhhh. small club tacoma wash.
4th grade pt.II- monkey's ( missed hendrix by three weeks)
7th grade- alice cooper- billion dollar babies. (flo and eddie warm up)
7th grade- tull. passion play all. thick all . all of the rest
8th- santana/john mclaughflin ...... it was all over after that.
You captured some Reality with the Model of the Expnding Universe as an analog to a Model of the Expanding Debt. There is a branch of Physics called Econophysics and the Models that describe the Physical Univese actually describe Economics.
But the Big Bang Theory as currently understood is flawed through a confusion of concepts. For instance Astrophysicists confuse the concepts of Image and substance. Because one sees an image does not mean that there is substance. It may be a reflection or projection on the Space Time Continnum. Have you ever heard of the phrase, Gravitational Lensing?
In layman's terms an image of oneself in the mirro does not create a duplicate person. There may be a singular phenomena behind two separate image manifestations.
Likewise in the Economy there are images that are lacking any substance. Most Markets operate on images while denying the fundamentals of foundation, a lack of substance to base valuations.
Thanks for helping me to keep my mind working and active, William. That is INVALUABLE.
I quit smoking weed on August 26 Tall Tom. Perhaps I should start up again? Try a right click and then "check spelling".(easy and free) I'm sorry but I noticed that the WSJ even used Capital instead of Capitol the other day... on a headline. Things like that bother me and I am not a grammaticist.
I know you ripped me up a bit on a previous post but that is OK. I just can't see where this post is going. Space or the economy?
I can only say the following: I am not working for corporate America anymore. All I really want to do is grow a very large garden where I can grow plants and then trade the produce for my efforts. It's not complicated.
Edit: I have 30 years of experience in the field and a Bachelor of Science in Horticulture. Is that enough? People who study plants and how they grow are patient types. In growing much of anything you must look to the future and that requires some vision. All I see is a bunch of Brawndo mandates.
You long rambling post, mostly about yourself, have not improved since you stop smoking pot, better go back and try some better stuff than that ditch weed you have be doing.
I hope the 30 years of ecperience than you claim is more than a backyard garden.
I am in the process of harvesting corn, got over 450 acres, then it started raining, but thats ok, got to teardown the rotary of a 20 year old combine and repair it.
Do you have any mechancal experience in rotary repair??? I didn;t think so, most of your type go to the big red or green machine store, listen to that sales crap, buy the $300 K monster, and wonder why your going broke!
The corn I harvest goes through the cattle I raise, then sold for premium $ because the people that buy them know they are not some animal grown on "chemicals" and the individual raises them would cook and seve the same to his three young grandsons.
Good luck with that line on BS in Horticulture, and 30 years experience, it is obvious you are not agrarian!
I'm a farmer...-Max Yasgur
Goo ole Max, what a guy!
I made a 3 day "concert" in Denver, got tear and CS gassed, (2nd time tha year), saw Hendrix, Iron Butterfly, ect, actually Jimmy did an encore on the 3rd night, with Johnny Winter and Tim Buckley jammin to All Along the Watchtower, awesome time. Got my draft notice a week or two after and did not make Woodstock. I thought NY State was a little too far to go to get tear and CS gassed and possibly jailed.
What a year 1969 was.
Gardening forces me to reflect on the Universe and my relationship(s) within it...
If, as you say, you are not a grammaticist, but "things like that still bother (you)" then you should go back to smoking weed until you successfully address your larger issues.
Perhaps. Weed has never solved my problems in the past. I like it; that's true. I wonder where my MLA wandered off to? Well look, there is always Hemingway's novel, "Blast to the Skull with a 12 gauge at point blank when the Sun was somewhere between rising and setting with some fucking bell incessantly ringing in our ears."
That was a great novel for that time.
I have stood at the foot of graves of many great writers. What the fuck good did that do? I doubt the deceased famous writers learned anything from me. All I ever asked of myself was "Who paid for that shit?"
Keloid, odd name that it is, I must ask a question: Who will carry on? Or are we going to become OMG, JFC, LMFAO et cetera. Who will write anything legible for posterity?
I have been accused of being a writer. That's bullshit. I can scribble is all at best. The same, twisting words just as WB7 twists his pictographs is something I can do.
My Pleasure Sir.
Bringing tears to my ears ...
Deep Purple fuck california Jam, what I 1974? So much orange-barrel acid, so much pussy, I mean honestly, I have been to most burning-man, but the cali-jam's, had much more pussy than
than burning man,
Led Zeppelin rocks, my only pity is that where I live they think its only noise, but I still play my acoustic, ... I have an amp, and someday, maybe like shawshank rememptio9n I'll let my guitar rip on the amp :)
I haven't smoked it in years, but that does not mean I have quit. ;-)
Analogy is the basic building block of thought. ;-)
Modelling the US economic system doesn't require science, or any intelligence.
Just think about a bunch of monkeys on an Island, a 'cargo cult', and every once in awhile a ship of 'cargo' washes ashore and the monkeys all kill each other fighting over the spoils.
They never think to make anything, or produce, or learn, they just sit an wait for new cargo to wash ashore.
No intelligence required,... move along, ... everything is just MSM projection, all of the 'players' running the USA are just like the movie Planet of the Apes, ... with Gorillas as cops, and Orangutans, as the political elite ( Banzais images ), and the chimpanzee's are the vast majority of world citizenry, ... but all are just stupid fucking monkeys fighting over 'cargo', ... aka loot.
Help me know the difference.
Love the Tull pic ;-)
No WB7, it's not a game.
Does anyone here remember playing tag when they were kids? Sure you do because we all did it. I will get to that in minute. Well, my daughter really wanted to go back to school already so we took her this morning. I thought I should be a father and sit down with her and talk with her after her Russia trip and all she has seen and heard in the last six weeks. This was her third trip to Russia in her eight year old life and she is better able to comprehend things now. I just wanted to make sure she was comfortable with going to school so soon after returning from such a journey.
Children are very adaptable compared to the curmudgeonly old bastards that are us. Mrs M became concerned when our daughter was a half an hour late home from school and called the school asking WTF? I doubt that she will lose track of our children now.
I asked my if she had any problems and no she did not other than the two "emergency" fire drills they had today. I saw one of the firetrucks go blaring by here with sirens ablaze. I asked my daughter if anything was actually on fire. No. I told her that the building is made mostly of brick and steel and that it would not burn. My responded that the gymnasium floor was made out of wood and it could burn. Fair observation. I suppose that it could. I asked her if they had to go stand outside in the cold and rain twice today. My daughter responded that they all sat on the gymnasium floor.
I had to ask daughter, "So they put all of you kids in the one place that could possibly catch fire. Don't you think that is a very stupid idea?"
Daughter responded, "Well, yes."
I responded, "Did you ask any teacher why that was a logical place to put you kids if there really was a fire?"
Daughter, "No."
Me, "Why not?"
Daughter, "Because I don't want to get in trouble."
Me, "Get trouble with whom?"
Daughter, "The teachers."
Me, "Well, I know that you are not a trouble maker by nature but you have to ask questions sometimes. You will not get into any trouble because I will back you up. I pay your teachers salaries and they will listen to me. Do you remember last year when I went to your school and talked to your teacher about that girl who was bullying you?"
(I actually talked to the little girl out in the hallway where Mrs. M and daughter could not see. I was not mean but firm)
Daughter, "Oh yeah, she is really nice to me now."
Me, "OK, then. You have my graces to question authority when something is out of place."
Daughter then went on to explain what they did in Gym class today. I guess they played a game of tag where everyone was "it". I had to ask what the rules of this game were. Daughter was unclear as was I.
Everyone with any sense knows that "playing tag" is child's game where they run around and burn up some of their boundless energies. I do not recall anyone ever winning at tag. How do you win a game of playing tag?
I had to ask daughter, "So what do you do? If everyone is "it" then what the goal?
Daughter, "Well, I'm not sure. You just run and tag someone else."
Me, "Then what?"
Daughter, "They have to sit down."
Me, "You are doing this for gym class?"
Daughter, "Yes."
Me, " So pretty much everyone ends up sitting down in gym class?"
Daughter, "Yeah, it's really kind of stupid."
Daughter said it not me. And my daughter is a motormouth freely ripping through two languages at will and should have a great career in radio. I condensed the conversation for you. Daughter did not realize all she told me because she is eight years old. I believe that what she had to say on her first day back to school should speak volumes to all of us. I would be remiss if I let this sort of thing go unnoticed.
I decided to dig a little further. I thought I recalled a Joe Soucheray AM radio show where this was discussed years ago but never thought too much of it. Sure enough, many forms of tag have been banned in the US and England.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tag_%28game%29
My questions to all of you are the following: Who the fuck do these people think they are and why should we pay for them?
I have one form of "tag" left to play. I dump this real estate I have and then max out my credit cards on bullion PMs. I then never pay.
Tag, you're it.
Schooling was the mechanism used by Rockefeller / Carnegie types to counterfeit education. The former trains you to submit to authority and tells you what to think, the latter trains you how to learn and think and the methodology required to discern that which is real and exists from the BS vested self interests will try and sell you.
Squashing inquisitiveness and questioning, especially of authority, are two of the primary objectives of the system.
Research John Taylor Gatto's work (books, podcasts and youtube) and Gene Odening's work on the Trivium (podcasts).'
The system will school and condition your daughter to work within the confines of the Rockefeller/Rothschild financial plantation.
If you want to education your daughter and give her the gift of a liberating education, you will have to do that yourself.
We want one class of persons to have a liberal education, and we want another class of persons, a very much larger class, of necessity, in every society, to forego the privileges of a liberal education and fit themselves to perform specific difficult manual tasks.
~ “The Meaning of a Liberal Education”, Address to the New York City High School Teachers Association (9 January 1909).
Seldom do you find the teacher who is overjoyed by such inquisitiveness. My student stumped me!
Jewels indeed.
Manipuflation
Well there you have it. Who the fuck indeed are these people and why the fuck should we pay for them?
Well it's coercion. Coercion is bad. Freedom good.
I believe that the "collapse" of the Soviets was engineered and the so is the Sovietization of the US. It's all about control and force.
It's getting worse here.
Force is a euphemism for violence, which as we have now seen thanks to OWS, lurks scarcely below the surface.
WB7 - I am looking forward to the visual combat on the Occupy Central movement in Hong Kong.
As a guest here, I steer clear of local controversy. I think this is a wise path to follow.
I agree Sir. There is no place to run. Sometimes I think we all want to believe that we are going to get away to somewhere else. I have come to the conclusion that there is no somewhere else and I came to that conclusion some time ago.
You know what else? I actually got silver out of Russia on Wednesday. That has never happened before. Not just bullion but some Cook Island proofs with a mintage of 5000. We had all better aswk ourselves just how that happened.
Russians are far wealthier than most Westerners think. They WANT you to think of breadlines and such but that is not what is going on there at all.
Hmm, they control all of the gas to Western Europe. China needs resources. Aside from Moscow, the second most expensive city in the world, no one really listens to the govt there. Anything goes. The Soviet "market economy" trained them well it seems.
I think of my children. They can go right back to Russia as far as I am concerned. They both speak Russian fluently, even the two year old.
Me? I have too many heavy metals of one sort or another and I am too old to learn Russian anyway. I am staying here.
"I have one form of "tag" left to play. I dump this real estate I have and then max out my credit cards on bullion PMs. I then never pay.
Tag, you're it."
Now I know that the system is corrupted and dishonest. Of that I have no doubt.
But is your solution honest?
I really do not care about other's honesty too much. I do not have to live with them. I do not enter into any contracts with those. I keep the ones whom demonstrate that trait at arm's length.
But I do have to look at myself in the mirror every morning. I cannot choose not to live with myself unless I completely opt out and put the proverbial bullet through my skull.
I just do not think that I can live with myself doing what you suggested. I do not believe that dishonesty is justifiable...at all.
That is just me. You are free to do as you please, of course.
"I have one form of "tag" left to play. I dump this real estate I have and then max out my credit cards on bullion PMs. I then never pay.
Tag, you're it."
So that is all you saw in what I wrote? You care about the banks then I assume? You did not read what I wrote did you? Do you know what a caveat is?
Y'all, missed the fucking point. Why? I do not know. I suspect that it has to do with the fact that you were all too lazy to actually read what I wrote and see that there are issues.
Do not lecture me about looking the mirror Sir. Do you think for one fucking second that I would give a shit if I ripped off JP Morgan Chase Capital? How much have those fuckers ripped off from me in the silver markets over the last decade plus? Huh? How much do you think? Do you think I am twenty years old?
If I can fuck JP Morgan back I will look in the mirror and smile.
I have done my part Sir. I have not only been a part of both Ron Paul campaigns but have been elected to GOP office twice at my own expense. I did so for your asses and it cost me dearly. What have you done? What have any of you done for that matter? (excepting WB7)
Go ahead, downvote the shit out me. I do not need your fucking votes to know who I am and what I believe in. I will give you some respect though Tall Tom. At least you had the guts to say something when others didn't. I sure hope you keep doing so.
The Fractional Reserve Universe Chart is an instant WB7 classic
Good work !!! I was just listening to this album during a ride the other day... now I will always associate it with the upcoming debt/momentary policy crisis and TPTB and of course your visual representation of The Bernake....
i didnt see the snott running down his nose....
Hello WB7,
Read stasiland after you recommended it.
Thanks for that
Any other books you would recommend ?
Thanks and keep the art coming !!!
That is an excellent book.
I have loads of other book book recommendations. Which direction do you want to go? History, current affairs, entertainment etc...
But before you get back to me, I will tell you hands down that The Great Game by Peter Hopkirk is one of the best page turners I have ever read. I started a whole book collection based on that one book and the bibliography.
Thank WB,
Will start with that one.
I really like history books with focus on ordinary people and the difficult choices they face.
Muchos Gracios
WB7,
Mr Hopkirk struck gold in that mouldering archive of the Raj full of officers journals and reports"foreign devils on the roof of the world", "Setting the east ablaze" among others.
Andrew Roe's "waging war in Waziristan" covers the Raj and how they tried to manage the Pashtun tribes from 1849-1947, should have been a standard issue for I.S.A.F.
Antonio Gustozzi is definitely worth reading as well "Koran. Kalashnikov, and Laptop","Empires of mud" "Decoding the new Taliban" funny how Afghanistan has dropped off the screen lately huh?
Not off my screen ;-)
I see someone bombed the Peshwar market. My Mom and Dad visited that locale twice before 9/11. I have a picture of them standing at the entrance to the Khyber Pass. Too dangerous now. But she loved to haggle in Eastern markets.
Will now add to my wishlist.
Some here seem to think the word 'game' means childish, or child-like, ...
The fact is most of science is a 'game', and most of mathematics is a 'game', and we play by man-made rules.
Today we have game-theory, which is largely chaos, and is known now to have superseded past scientific knowledge, so 'all is game', well at least to those who are educated in science.
Man is just a a biological happenstance of thermodynamics, and nothing more.
I had to reply as a lot of folks here seem to be taking offense to your word 'game',
p.s. loved the astrophysics image,
Of course, The Great Game recorded in Hopkirk's book was an entirely different sort of game. You may like that book as well.
Dude the great passes of Tibet, and high mountain opium and marijuana, I'm there,
Still visit DALI frequently and smoke, where the old 80 year old women on the street off their best bud so cheap, ...
Just remember for all this talk about Econ here that for all all of history a LB of OPIUM has been worth MORE than a LB of gold.
So it be called 'black gold'
That is one of those books you just can't put down. And the rest of his books are the same.
Ain't No Sunshine 'Til They're Gone