Gameover

Somehow, all the turmoil with the investment banks, and those that lent recklessly with no heed to caution reminds me of my childhood, and the hours I spent in front of my Pentium.

..but let not the backlash kill you.

..and no more space for any more bricks. The Wall is done (for).



..the faery fairy tale has come to an end.

..the battle is lost and there is blood all over.

Kaboom!

Ghostown

Decent movie. More amusingly the entire movie was shot on 4 blocks on the Upper East Side. Central Park, The Met and 5th Ave.

SoCapitalism

Its the All-American style of capitalism. Its the 21st going on 25th century style of capitalism. Bonuses are taken by the CEO while loses are eaten by the taxpayer. You and me, me and you, we subsidize the big bonus.

Oops

Actually Oops, Oops, Ooopss and Shit!!
A.k.a Freddie, Fannie, Lehman and AIG.

Fable of the Bees

Mandeville in his satirical poem 'Fable of the Bees' sums up the attitude of Keynes towards employment, growth and economic policy. The poem came out in the late 17th/early 18th century when any suggestion of violating the Christian virtues of temperance and frugality was frowned upon. Thus, he was not the most popular guy around and did not get any invites to the King's parties. However, he was right. People hate the truth, especially if it is something unsavory about them.

A tiny extract:

The Root of evil, Avarice,
That damn'd ill-natur'd baneful Vice,
Was Slave to Prodigality,
That Noble Sin; whilst Luxury
Employ'd a Million of the Poor,
And odious Pride a Million more."
Envy it self, and Vanity
Were Ministers of Industry

Translating, the pride and ego of those with money motivates them to construct pyramids, churches, yachts and university research labs, hence providing jobs for a good many people. Private vice to the public benefit. If they were to keep those pieces of paper in a safe deposit box, people would starve, and they would end up with a good many pieces of paper, which aren't known to be edible.

Search for Bernard Mandeville / Fable of the Bees on the internet. Very enlightening.

Obama against outsourcing?

It must be campaign rhetoric. If he really means it, chances are he is going to get booed out of his Hyde Park neighbourhood.

Less outsourcing would mean that American firms would face increased costs and decreased competitiveness, at a time when the economy isn't exactly going great guns. It would certainly lead to a backlash in India, with the result that US firms are going to miss out on the Indian growth story. Also, for every dollar that the US gives to an Indian software engineer salary it probably gets a good fraction of it back in the money that he/she eventually spends on Levis jeans and Coke and Dominos Pizza and iPhones. Why anyone would want to mess with that is beyond me, but you gotta do what you gotta do to get voted in.

Buffet on sovereign wealth funds

There’s been much talk recently of sovereign wealth funds and how they are buying large pieces of American businesses. This is our doing, not some nefarious plot by foreign governments. Our trade equation guarantees massive foreign investment in the U.S. When we force-feed $2 billion daily to the rest of the world, they must invest in something here. Why should we complain when they choose stocks over bonds?

Rubaiyat

Life is short.

The worldly hope men set their hearts upon,
Turns ashes - or it prospers; and anon
Like snow upon the desert's dusty face,
Lighting a little hour or two - is gone.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into dust descend;
Dust into dust, and under dust to lie,
Sane wine, sans song, sans singer, and - sans end.

Tis all a chequerboard of nights and days,
Where destiny with men for pieces plays,
Hither and thither moves, and mates and slays,
And one by one back in the closet lays.

Life goes the way it goes.

The moving finger writes and having writ,
Moves on, nor all thy piety or wit,
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.

Life is sweet.

Ah, fill the cup, whats boots it to repeat,
How time is slipping underneath our feet,
Unborn to-morrow, and dead yesterday,
Why fret about them if today be sweet.

Drink to it.

How long, how long, in definite pursuit,
Of this and that endeavor and dispute,
Better be merry with the fruitful grape,
Than sadder after none, or bitter, fruit.

The grape that can with logic absolute,
The two and seventy jarring sects confute,
The subtle alchemist that in a trice,
Life's leaden metal to gold transmute.

Live for today,

Some for the glories of this world, and some,
Sign for the prophet's paradise to come,
Ah, take the cash and let the promise go,
Nor heed the music of a distant drum.

Ah, my beloved fill the cup that clears,
Today of past regret and future fears,
Tomorrow! Why tomorrow I may be,
Myself with yesterday's seven thousand years.

And don't let religion get in the way.

Why, all the saints and sages who discussed,
Of the two worlds so learnedly, are thrust,
Like foolish prophets forth, their words to scorn,
Are scattered, and their mouths are stopt with dust.

Oh threats of hell and hopes of paradise,
One thing at least is certain - this life flies,
One thing is certain and the rest is lies,
The flower that once is blown forever dies.

What out of senseless nothing to provoke,
A conscious something to resent the yoke,
Of unpermitted pleasure, under pain,
Of everlasting penalties, if broke!

And when death comes,

Ah, with the grape my fading life provide,
And wash my body whence the life has died,
And in a winding sheet of vine leaf wrapt,
So bury me by some sweet garden side.

I sometimes think that never blows so red,
The rose as where some buried Caeser bled,
The every Hyacinth the garden wears,
Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head.

(Aside - Deflation is bad :) )

What! From his helpless creature be repaid,
Pure gold for what he lent us dross allayed,
Sue for a debt we never did contract,
And cannot answer - oh the sorry trade!