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NSA sympathy card to the family if the fucker jumps: "Your thoughts are with us"
Interpol the band?
What a depressing thread. I'm not saying that in a derogatory way. I'm not sure what alphabet soup was trying to say. We are the lost children no matter our age but we always come back to fight. I gave up on saving the world a long time ago. William says not to give up and I tend to agree.
What else are we going to do? Bury our heads between our legs and hope it goes away? NO! It does not go away and only gets worse. Try fighting back(peacably) because if you try then there is at least a chance our word will get through. How can you needle the power structure just a little bit? Right now you have a semi-fractured Ron Paul movement just looking for something to do to fuck with them. The networks are already set up and intact.
Christie vs. Hillary in 2016? Is that what you want? I want none of that. A death of a thousand cuts is our strategy. All you have to do is show up and ask questions at the caucuses and primaries. Go to the conventions: You do not need to be a delegate. I already told you how to do it a hundred times. I did with my daughter. They are afraid of us. Do you really think my nine year old daughter and I were going to change anything that night? Of course not. You play these people like fiddles. Learn to speak publicly. Learn to run a meeting. You have more support out there than you think.
If nothing else, you will know who your enemy is when you are done.
here's an example of how the system can be brought down without firing a shot. if candidates could run on this platform, and win in a number of states the TBTF banks would disappear. if you're wondering why we hate Obama, consider he is going to open the way for BANKS to lend money to marijuana operations, such a policy allows the money involved to flow back to Washington DC and the tentacles of the vampire squid, which is not just Goldman but the entire fascist military government, of which Obama is the leader and representative. we can stop this thing, but people have to quit voting for the lesser of two evils and vote for real change.
I WANT YOU
Barack Obama, on NSA, drone assassination, and GITMO
Margaret Thatcher Quotehttp://izquotes.com/quote/183816
“No one would remember the Good Samaritan if he'd only had good intentions; he had money as well.” - Margaret Thatcher
“Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't.” - Margaret Thatcher
“Where there is discord, may we bring harmony. Where there is error, may we bring truth. Where there is doubt, may we bring faith. And where there is despair, may we bring hope.” - Margaret Thatcher
“If you just set out to be liked, you would be prepared to compromise on anything at any time, and you would achieve nothing.” - Margaret Thatcher
And we could not be rid of the evil, thieving bitch fast enough.
she presided over the declining empire by shoving it further down the rat hole. its a shame America seems to be in love with everything British these days. its like we forgot the revolution.
Banksy needs to paint a trampoline on the sidewalk.
Banksy will paint a trampoline for $100,000
I hear Blankfein is collecting Banksy. He'd be first in line to pay $100,000.
gentlemen, i tell you what, if'n there's any set of circumstances conducive to the janus-mileu, it's a snowy-day on the cape. new england draped in the frosty stuff is what picture-postcards were made for. verily, it is aesthetically sublime up here; and new englanders are good/hearty stock -- shame the bolsheviks have so fully succeeded in making them feel ashamed of themselves. but i'm going to see what i can't do about that...at least, in my own lil way.
anyway, i have something to say about the jump-fuckers-jump theme o' the day. it comes in the form of a story. it's a story so true that you'll want to hurt yourself for yielding to doubt or questions regarding any of its particulars. i can't even begin to tell you how factually accurate is what follows; so scrutinize its veracity at your peril!
it is with a heavy heart that i invite you to pity jamie dimon; for you see, janus has for many years pursued this poor lil will o' the wisp...four-cornered him within the grid of this fair orb spinnin through time and space, i have; and i haven't always been so gentle in my dealings with him...i haven't always shown him much in the way of mercy; and so now i -- as he ponders his fate at the perch of a dizzying precipice -- am urging a bit of compassion and pause before he strides that single step into the great and consuming abyss.
it goes like this:
shortly after i joined the rebel army, was made a jedi-knight by the High-Counsel (in the order of Melchizedek), anointed with the spermaceti, etc., etc., i was tasked with the torment and harrying of one jamie dimon. you see, it's not that i hate ole jamie; nor do i bear any particular grudge against him. it's just the way these things go: you don't get to pick your target, but you do get unlimited latitude with respect to your methods. i, being the creative sort, like to make an art of my endeavors; and, furthermore, i like to hit em' where it hurts...and sometimes i go for the nuts.
yup, you're reading me aright, jamie dimon is an eunuch. and janus is both to blame and deserving of all the credit.
this all went down about the time my partner and i were working as dog groomers in rhode island.
now, understand, rhode island is populated by three types of people: 1) morons. 2) gangsters. 3) super-duper wealthy and clandestine-types. sometimes they can be a combination of all 3; and such is the case with ole jamie.
come summer-time, the yachting/horsey/monied set seem to congregate in rhode island along its beautimous coast; as it's a good resting place between manhattan and maine. and it twern't long before the dimon clan came sailing in on their 'good-ship-lollipop'...no, really, that's the name of the dimon vessel.
here's a few excerpts from the dimon dossier (those that are pertinent to the means i devised for executing judgement on the man...at least he was sorta-something of a man; at least, till janus set to having his with him):
jamie dimon: a creature of exotic habits. every evening he evacuates the 'good ship lollipop' so that he may in solitude serenade himself while seated at his vanity. dressed only in a silken pink robe, he applies gaudy layers of make-up, a variety of jewelry, boas, coutour hats, saunters about in stilettos and adorns himself with all manner of feminine finery...often writes anonymous letters to soap opera stars, alternatively praising or admonishing their on-screen exploits...is obsessed with his shih tzu, "feathers" -- can often be seen publicly canoodling with the canine...will not leave the house without having had his two strawberry pop tarts...prays each night to a baphomet for protection against janus...he sits down to pee.
and so it came to pass on one wind-swept summer night, somewhere along rhode island coast, that janus waited for all the crew, family and various guests of the 'good ship lollipop' to leave and make room for the serenading and the prancin to begin.
it started with this song:
and it ended lookin something like this:
anywho...so's i have to sit and endure this vomit-inducing spectacle till he'd achieved an exulted state of detachment; so consumed by the trance of his own deluded and perverse fantasy that he's lost all contact with that which surrounds him; it is at that time he's most vulnerable -- and so is feathers.
there sits feathers, shaking and terror stricken atop his satin pillow, unacknowledged by his strange and hypnotically dazed master. janus dangles the bacon and beckons the fluffy lil thing hither. and hither it comes.
for the next two months, every lamppost and telephone pole, every available billboard and bulletin board, everywhere there was a visible space, jamie dimon was pleading and petitioning for the return of his dearest companion, feathers.
little could he suspect, but janus was all the while 'conditioning' this lil dog...training him in the ways of viciousness and pavlovian triggered terror. janus was transforming this worthless puff of fur and foie gras into an instrument of justice...janus-style.
shortly before i was to return feathers, and as a pretext for the same, i arranged for one of his favorite soap opera stars to come and make an appearance in the local community, espousing some bull-shit feel-gooder campaign to vilify this or that productive enterprise (i can't remember which one, as we use so very many); and, unfortunately, i can't reveal the name of the starlet involved...in that she's a company grade officer in the rebel army. i can tell you that i knew jamie would show...seeing how he'd recently written her a six page letter, streaked with the stains of his tears, over an on-air affair she'd had with another character he detested. rats cannot resist the scent of cheese.
jamie was as giddy as -- you guessed it -- a schoolgirl...clutching the signed head-shot of his idol, glossy 9X11 pressed firmly against his breast, he was full o' beans and just-plain burblin over with bliss.
"isn't she just wonderful?" sez janus.
"do go on! i like you already, mr. man!" putty in my hand, thought janus, as he processed this comment.
i then sought to make common ground a wide and ranging terrain, and did all i could to generalize the conversation about subjects of which we could both agree...'things we loved' was the theme of our discourse. the bait was swallowed; now twas time to set the hook.
"oh, sure, i adore double-rainbows and unicorns same as any man...but, wanna know what makes me happy-beyond-happy -- a happy so happy they haven't a word adequate to my affection -- a love so pure and wonderful and unalloyed; a good so great it's better than gold?"
he did look curious...and who could blame him.
"oh, do tell and don't drive me cwazy!" he then flopped his wrist about and batted his eyelashes.
"it's my shih tzu, cali"
jamie's eye moistened as he asked to see a picture. janus pulled out his phone and tapped his way to the image. i was at the same time preparing myself for a feast preliminary justice.
there before him was the image of feathers...the unmistakeable shock of mahogany hair, making an almost wig-like tuft of his brow; the kinked right ear; the droopy left eye...it was all there to see.
the color instantly drained from jamie's face; and his once ebullient and effervescent cheer were in a moment reduced to a tremulous and helpless despair.
"wh-wh-when did you g-g-get this d-d-dog?" jamie was blubbering with tears and had lost all composure.
"my word! you look overcome, ole chap. is there anything the matter?" janus is a master of empathy (feeling your pain since 93, bitchez!).
"p-p-please just t-t-tell me when you g-g-got your dog?"
"who, you mean cali...the love of my life and the heir to all that i own? he is no dog; he is an immortal." i paused and handed jamie a tissue...and then began again "there is nothing but majesty and magnificence in that divine creature, except for one small thing. and boy did i ever take care of that!"
here i made a scissor-gesture, and jamie, who'd up till then been sobbing spasmodically and all the while nodding along as i sang cali's praises, suddenly started with alarmed alacrity.
"w-w-what...h-h-who...b-b-b-b-b" jamie was all out of sorts, and so janus thought he'd snap him out of it with some jocularity and the filling in of blanks with bold and frank statements.
"yessiree, every time anything julie andrews came on television or the radio, that dog would lose it...start humping furniture, went bananas biting itself and kindly strangers. and so i fixed it; figured it was a sexual deviant, and did something about it. the way i reckoned, the problem wasn't with julie andrews, it was a matter of perversion...nip it in the bud; that's what i always say. by the way, you look ill."
jamie shook his head in both directions.
"anyway, i guess my precious cali came to me about two months ago...i was just strollin through the harbor on one blustery summer night, and there, almost as if destiny had driven us together, cali came bounding toward me, he leapt lovingly into may arms, and we've been positively devoted to one another since. it was all rather cinematic and heart-rending; if you want my opinion."
jamie at last pulled himself together and heaved out the following offer, "that dog is my everything; his name isn't cali, it's feathers (he said this almost indignantly...the nerve of this man, jamie dimon!), i can prove it, but i'll just offer you ten million dollars for his safe return. and i cannot believe you've neutered poor feathers (again with the sanctimonious indignance)...i just...i just don't know what to say...but i'll give you anything...anything."
"oh, you poor dear. how could i possibly have known? no, i won't take a cent from you; i only wish you to be happy...and, more importantly, to take perfect care of my darling cali."
later that morning, right about 11:11 AM, i drove cali back to the yacht that was his former and familiar home away from home.
i left the dog with his grateful master and praised myself for this demonstration of compassion and tenderness.
but right before i left, jamie asked, "hey, what's this little sterling silver medallion on his collar..."caligula"...you named feathers "caligula"?" he then thought it over, smirked and said, "oh, i get it."
"if you don't now, you soon will." janus winked and then sped away.
early the next morning, jamie awoke, sat down to pee, shuffled to the kitchen in puffy pink slippers and the silk robe mentioned earlier; gently placed the now ball-less cali on his satin pillow, right beside his chair at the breakfast nook, put two strawberry poptarts in the toaster...sat down and stared at the chrome-plated appliance anxiously awaiting his first-thing treat, and DING!"
the pop tarts pop, the bell rings, and pavlov's beast leaps from his pillow to utterly savage the manhood of his master.
there was simply no stopping cali...good dog, cali! VERY GOOD DOG!!!.
when it was all over and the paramedics had rolled poor jamie out in a stretcher, nothing remained but a crimson gap and the ripe odor of justice.
so you see, this despair in jamie has less to do with criminal malfeasance than one may reasonably think. it is instead the function of despoiled love and calculated conditioning; it is the story of man, man's best friend and what happens in the aftermath of castration.
it is also a story with a happy ending; which is but the beginning of another story with an even happier ending...it is the story of one who turns justice into High-Art.
heroes are as heroes do.
i'm thinking of maybe taking a job bartending on the vineyard this summer...happy sailing, masters of the universe, see you around cocktail hour.
Great story. Cali is a good dawg...Well trained.
Yeah. Very poignant works again here, in my humble and personal evaluation.
More what I want to say to you today is, it's inspiring as ever to hear your relentless and firm attitude to what you consider to be the root of our problems. I just came home from holidays in the UK, where I've been trying to avoid our degraded national television painting our apologist gov in the best light as possible.
Well... usually I find your work highly comical, (and you know I mean that in the best possible sense). This time, and on this topic, rarely I find a smile creeping in at the corners. Thanks for your inspiration, keeps me reading, learning, painting.. living!
"From Jim Willie, GoldenJackass.comThe banker hits are being done by the bad guys to keep men from singing after they flipped during prosecution investigation.All have been working with police teams and continental cops like Interpol. The STL Fed guy discovered some Bush giant multi-$B fraud and was ready to report it. The STL Fed economist was hit by the Bush gang, before he sang against them.The London bankers had begun to sing to Interpol on Mafia Vatican connections on massive FOREX fraud thefts.It is unclear which is bigger: Vatican links to narco money, or links to FOREX fraud theft, or their control room for Nazis.m
WE ARE NOT SEEING BAD BANKERS REMOVED
WE ARE SEEING BANKERS REMOVED WHO ARE ON THE VERGE OF REVEALING BIG DATA DETAILS
" The London bankers had begun to sing to Interpol"...
Among the many international agencies Tavistock serves, is David Rockefeller's private intelligence service, better known as INTERPOL.
DAMN! Good link...
I love Zero Hedge!
Greetings from Montana William. Keep up the fine work.
When I was licenced on Wall Street in 1974 the white shoe firms were based on honor and integrity.
Fast forward 40 years to 2014 , all these Banksters should be given Mandella Neclaces and their chared remains strung from lamp posts from NYC to DC
When I was a kid, my parents were very good friends with a floor trader who later became a broker. To this day I think he was one of the funniest people I ever met. He was also straight as an arrow when it came to managing OPM. He is no longer alive, but my Dad and I still talk about him. 'What would Jim say..." And my Dad still does business with his old firm which has managed to steer clear of all the bull shit we have witnessed.
Yes, there was a time when you could say there were just "a few bad apples." But that time has long passed. If there are only a few bad apples now, they must all be concentrated at the pinnacle. So Dimon should have said "just a few bad apples like me."
Yes, there was a time when you could say there were just "a few bad apples." But that time has long passed.
Yes, there was a time when you could say there were just "a few bad apples." But that time has long passed.
That orchard on Wall Street has a terminal case of the blight.
I started at the CBOT right out of HS when I was 16 and can tell you that 90% of the people there were pretty good people. I moved into the Securities world with Lehman in the 90's and can tell you this.. Still 90% of the people were ok people but they werent as bright. In the 2000's I embarked on my own when everything changed. Still more people were good people than bad but they were also retarded. I mean the dumbest group of people you could ever hope to NOT be around. If you were one of the smarter people you went off on your own and if you werent you took orders from the creepiest group of scumbags on the planet and the cock sucking that went on to get near the evil cretins was worse then a broke whore in the bowery.
The point of all this is that when you couple morons with evil, you have a potent combination of disease that rivals that of our completely moronic governmental officials. Again to coin a phrase from Animal House. "Fat, Drunk and Stupid is no way to go thru life son" though the powers in charge are doing their best to make that model work... Thankfully, in the long run it wont work though its clearly gone on longer than I thought it could
WB7's virtual Empire State building graffiti gave me a fun idea.
Near the end of their evening shift, skyscraper cleaning crews with some creativity could turn off most all lights in their building, but turn ON the lights to spell
"Que? Fffforkerrrs? No Habla."
We need Jamie Dimon's email and send him some encouraging words..
WmBanzai7 - Every time you post, on my monitor your work is partially covered by the blue column on the right showing Ransquawk and latest comments. Anything we cna do about that?
My Iphone has that problem. I usually just tap on the picture and it goes to WB's site and works fine.
Answer: you need a Widescreen Monitor and video driver capable of displaying 16:9 resolution ===> Examples: 1980 x 1020 ; 1600 x 900 or 1280 x 720.
Aspect Ratio: notice if you divide the smaller number into the larger in each case, you'll always get (16/9) = 1.7777778
If none of the above examples are listed on the slider bar where you change your screen resolution, your hardware just cannot display 16:9 ===> Time to UPGRADE.
Comments based on Firefox browser with default text-size settings and large ZH images under the dreaded blue sidebar banners --
Nope, you need to hit Ctrl and the minus key to "unzoom" the image size (in Firefox). But then the problem becomes one of the text being too small to read on smaller (laptop) monitors.
The website has a design glitch (or maybe it's intentional) -- the web designers are using big widescreen monitors to create the page and have (apparently) never tried it on a laptop or smartphone. They need to design the page so larger images are pushed down below the bottom of the blue sidebars.
The monitor resolution has nothing (directly) to do with it. Even on a 24" 1980x1020 desktop monitor with a whiz-bang video card, if Firefox shows the text at a readable size (for my eyes) the blue sidebar still overlaps the images. Only "unzooming" by Ctrl plus minus exposes the image. Now if I had a 30-inch monitor maybe I could unzoom and get readable sized text the full image too.
Hit the Ctrl and the plus key a few times (zoom) and even on a large widescreen monitor the images will partially disappear under the sidebars....
for ONE web page? I think not. I can just as easily avoid the bad formatting of zh columns by copying the segment I want top to bottom into an email.
Software is the best solution until it isn't but today it is.
buy a wide screen monitor
Control - as many times as you need to make the picture fit, aftwards Control + to make the text big enough to read (the older I get the more Control +'s I need). These aer just zoom/unzoom shortcut keys.
If you have filthy Billware, I don't know.
If you have a Mac, you simply press the command key along with the plus of minus sign to zoom the non-ad content in and out.
ZH does not seem to autosize the ads vs. the content, so I have to do this all the time.
Try a differnt browser.
If that doesn't work go on your desktop and change the display settings to higher resoulution settings.
You're good at stealin'
You're good at lying
Time to see how good
You are at flyin'!
Nice work WB. Keep it up.
There's a gang of those younger banksters that are in line to get whacked. They should mutiny and go after Captain Piss Gums Dimon.
Ho lee fuk, wee tu hai!
The "high jump" is an Olympic event. Maybe we should score them.
"Bankster Dive", judged by the surface area and artistic impression of the splattergram, plus pre-strawberry-sundae "style points" for the decuple somersault with a quintuple twist dive.
This could be the big break needed for the United Kingdom and United State_ to finally catch up in the race for Olympic medals!
Best and most hilarious post all year
Jezzz, what a bunch of sick fuckers to start the day out with.. Nah really, some of your greatest stuff. Can't figure why the MSM is not mentioning this stuff, oh yea, now I remember.. .
Alpha, good point, the people you are talking about should of learned how to raise their own food, get the fuck out before it blows, now those people will be just part of the food shortage problem, best to get stocked up, this looks like it could be the long hot summer of discontent that J H Kunstler has warned about!
Hope you city dwellers have a plan B.
Lets face it, the financial MSM gets all its money from the industry. That being the case, their behavior is not surprising.
What kind of a clueless media moron does not realise deep inside that there is something seriously wrong on The Street.
Matt Taibbi is not a financial journalist. Yet his reporting towers above the financial MSM.
And of course, this website, which they all read, is constantly disparaged as a haven for fringe lunatics.
"What kind of a clueless media moron does not realise deep inside that there is something seriously wrong on The Street."
I have thought about that a lot WB, and I think the answer is that they don't consider anything they believe in to be even worthy of thinking about. Maybe a shorter answer is that they don't think at all.They just follow the narrative.
Watch how the brainwashed people (so-called journos included) react to ANYTHING. The answer is they don't know how to react until their "thought leaders" be they politicians, idealogues, MSM, teachers, TELL them what to think. Once they are given their opinion, they cannot be swayed.
That's the sad, easy truth.
low brow, fringe lunatics that is
"I got friends in low places!"
Jump you fuckers indeed!
Put all their heads on pikes
That Jamie on a ledge is a true fantasy.
There is no way in hell that he's going to jump.
Even if pushed, he'd have a stack of air pillows to fall into.
IMO, these guys dying are not the perps, they are not the cause of the malaise.
They are not the ones with the ear of the Fed, the Treasury, the various security agencies.
They are minions.
"I was just following orders."
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