Good night ladies good night sweet ladies good night

It was crime at the time but the laws, we changed iem
though the hero
for hire is forever the same one.

I hate money. I've always disliked money. Join this to my loa, Don Quixote - the man who went crazy through reading - and before long, the Knight of the Woeful Countenance is thrashing about in the business pages, forever lost to literature and love.

Well, fuck that. Watching the massive erosion of democracy and the emplacement of what appears to be a fraudulent auction system designed to shift Wall Street's old gambling debts onto the shoulders of the government for the temporary relief of the kleptocrats (and it will be temporary, for remember, like a shark, a plutocrat has to keep moving in order to breath - and in the world of burndown, there's no place to move), I am getting Iraq flashbacks. The more evident it becomes that protest doesn't fucking matter, the more one channels frustration into analysis. But what is the fucking point?

I would rather be a bird in a tree, piping away, than going after this headless beast. Apparently, the program of American capitalism has become a self-destroying machine, and who wants to be caught between its mechanical paws as it tears its own operating system apart?

All of which means, I need to get back to concentrating on Limited Inc. for a while.

ANDROMAQUE. – La guerre de Troie n’aura pas lieu, Cassandre !

CASSANDRE. – Je te tiens un pari, Andromaque.

ANDROMAQUE. – Cet envoyé des Grecs a raison. On va bien le recevoir. On va bien lui envelopper sa petite Hélène, et on la lui rendra.

CASSANDRE. – On va le recevoir grossièrement. On ne lui rendra pas Hélène. Et la guerre de Troie aura lieu.