2008
Posted on August 16, 2019
by Alex V. Weir
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Is there really any reason for it?
Are there any less raw resources?
Any less technique with which to harness them?
Any serious collapse in enforceable contracts?
Why then does it collapse?
Its corpse choking the destitute and enriching the powerful.
What bizzare miseries ignorance and sloth visits upon mankind.
Twin urchins ever drawing down Dickensian mazes of convoluted preverications.
There is but one false science.
One powder laced, smoke and mirror show, whose name is economics.
Nom like nom de plume.
A false flight of fancy to add riches where none exist.
Is there any folly greater than credit?
The promise of goods made more valuable then goods that already abound?
Life then becomes a series of notes.
Exchanged by gamblers for the sheer joy of sudden fortune.
Before whom kingdoms crumble.
All for a childish game.
Oh, how the crops perish before the harvest while the locusts lounge.
The ant too became a locust for the sake of fashion.
Hopping on a will-o-the-wisp and sailing into oblivion.
Oblivious now, unprecedented amnesia, where every good is fed to promise.
Promise that no feast can make less empty.
Promise, the sacrament of economy, a rite towards Sheol.
This is why I drink.
Call Me An Idiot Here
http://www.minds.com/Weirmellow
Or Here
mellow.mission.productions@gmail.com
Support This Here
http://www.subscribestar.com/TFJ
Or With PayPal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
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Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
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Category: Alex Weir, Current Events, Humor, Philosophy, Politics, Social Commentary, The Fractal Journal, UncategorizedTags: 2008, Blogs, Crash, Economy, Markets, Opinion
2008
Posted on August 16, 2019 by Alex V. Weir
Leave a Comment
Is there really any reason for it?
Are there any less raw resources?
Any less technique with which to harness them?
Any serious collapse in enforceable contracts?
Why then does it collapse?
Its corpse choking the destitute and enriching the powerful.
What bizzare miseries ignorance and sloth visits upon mankind.
Twin urchins ever drawing down Dickensian mazes of convoluted preverications.
There is but one false science.
One powder laced, smoke and mirror show, whose name is economics.
Nom like nom de plume.
A false flight of fancy to add riches where none exist.
Is there any folly greater than credit?
The promise of goods made more valuable then goods that already abound?
Life then becomes a series of notes.
Exchanged by gamblers for the sheer joy of sudden fortune.
Before whom kingdoms crumble.
All for a childish game.
Oh, how the crops perish before the harvest while the locusts lounge.
The ant too became a locust for the sake of fashion.
Hopping on a will-o-the-wisp and sailing into oblivion.
Oblivious now, unprecedented amnesia, where every good is fed to promise.
Promise that no feast can make less empty.
Promise, the sacrament of economy, a rite towards Sheol.
This is why I drink.
Call Me An Idiot Here
http://www.minds.com/Weirmellow
Or Here
mellow.mission.productions@gmail.com
Support This Here
http://www.subscribestar.com/TFJ
Or With PayPal
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz? Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
$5.00
Share this:
Like this:
Related
Category: Alex Weir, Current Events, Humor, Philosophy, Politics, Social Commentary, The Fractal Journal, UncategorizedTags: 2008, Blogs, Crash, Economy, Markets, Opinion
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