Sunday, December 19, 2004

Blog and be merry

Ok, enough with the essays. I'll start blogging current events.

And, barring disasters, rapture(s) or a run on the peso, I'm on hiatus until the silly season is complete.

I wonder when foreigners wil stop buying t-bills?
Maybe on George Bush's inauguration day? I'm laying in the bets now!

4 Comments:

At 6:50 PM, December 19, 2004, Blogger DarkSyde said...

I thought your essays were excellent BTW. And you so impressed me with your dark prose I'm writing a similar long dark ramble and I'll be referencing your relevent posts to assign proper credit for some phrases I lifted from your effort. Prolly be about Weds this week.

Darksydothemoon@REMOVEaol.com

 
At 2:45 AM, December 20, 2004, Blogger monkeygrinder said...

Thanks for your kind words. Unless you directly quote me, you needn't attribute me; much of what I wrote in those essays is stuff I learned from reading widely on the topic of Peak Oil, starting with my sidebar sources.

I'll be sure to check it out!

On the topic of dark prose - you know, I'm not trying to be dark. The topic constrains me, though. It isn't a sunny day in America in 1982, with me playing whiffle ball in my corderoys; it's a sunny day in Ethopia in 1982, and flies are drinking a child's tears.

Damn it, there I go again. That was even maudlin!

Point is, peak oil looks to be a world of suck. I wish I could blow it all off. Instead, I sold my IRA.

If something changes, and mitigates the problem, I'll be the first one worshipping down at the local supermarket.

 
At 5:07 AM, December 20, 2004, Blogger DarkSyde said...

My essay is long and I do lift some phrases form you because, well, they were damn well written phrases.
I wrote this as an intro:
Some nights when cold wind whistles through dead thistles on it's lonely quest, warmed in deep December's darkness in the belly of my nest,
I awaken, startled stifled heaving silent screams,
wrested hastily from the clutches of dissolving winter dreams,
Unreturning despite my yearning for the sweet embrace of sleep,
down to my office quietly creeping I read of something deep;
but all too often, surf'n and blog'n,
only despair invades my keep ...
The vision that m'live'n is not one I'd choose to face;
For the more I see, the more I crave
the bed'n grave
of sleeping's sweet embrace...
I'm also not sure what to do with my qualified assets. Take them out and they get taxed. It's hard to say how far this will go. There are some scenarios you just can't plan for. Leave them in and they might dissappear in a puff of petrodollar smoke. BTW I don't have an e-mail for you. It should be in a day or two and we'll link you.

 
At 8:04 AM, December 22, 2004, Blogger DarkSyde said...

I listed you as "Inspired by contributions from Jon Springer" with a link to your blog. http://www.brentrasmussen.com/ . "A Midwinter Night's Mare".

 

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