That pure Cane Spirit since 1848.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Daphne reminds us how much easier it is to rise than fall. For many, the very prospect of modified cloth cutting is too much and they hang themselves (quite ingeniously) in the front hall stairwell.
A young neighbour of mine did that. I discussed it with my closest friend.*

“Why d’ya think he did it? There must have been an alternative.”
“He was tired. He couldn’t face starting ag
ain. There was no alternative.”

I love when laymen give an opinion on economics. Small business men are the best. They come out with the funniest remarks. What they never consider is that they are testing predictions against an intelligent syste
m. They haven’t a hope.

*My closest friend lies buried in the ash pits of Lanarkshire, put there by his lazy doltish family.


Ms Scarlet said...

Are you okay Dr Maroon? Would you like a hug?
Scarlet x

Eryl Shields said...

Are you sure they're testing predictions Doc, and not just hoping to get through another day without being discovered for being the fools they secretly fear they are, poor lambs?

Mrs Pouncer said...

WTF does any or all of this mean? You should immerse yourself in some thoroughgoing domestic activity for a change. I have just peeled a hundredweight of potatoes, and shelled some chestnuts. I have no domestic help on a Sunday, and imagining you just schelpping around in squalor makes it worse.
Pull yourself together; it's later than you think.

Ms Scarlet said...

Well it all makes sense now that you've put the diagrams up.
I am a humble tart Dr Maroon, and have nothing to offer other than warm flesh . . . and bits of tart . . . (?)

Pat said...

Be angry if it helps you not to feel too sad.
Come and read my Willian Saroyan quote- it's easier to understand than your demmed graphs and it makes sense:)

xerxes said...

Dr, reassure us that "buried in the ashpits of Lanarkshire" is metaphor, not fact.

Those axes could use a bit more labelling, with units and such.

Mrs P, if you need peeled potatoes, caterers will supply them by the cwt. But why must they be peeled? Deborah Kerr never peeled a potato in her life.

Mrs Pouncer said...

Inky, contract caterers all have foul fingernails, low standards of personal hygiene and no regard for correct storage procedures for ambient product. And anyway it pleases me (occasionally) to be seen to be doing the whole Gemutlichkeit thing. My dopesick anaemic children all cheered me to the echo, as did their Trustafarian chums who had stayed the night. The only fly-in-the-ointment was Mutti, the lovely old harridan herself, who said the gravy was vulcanised.

Daphne Wayne-Bough said...

Didn't I also say it was better to travel hopefully than to arrive? Oh hang on a minute, that wasn't me ...

Try this personality test to take your mind off it. I'm apparently a choleric phlegmatic, which has nailed my indecisiveness.

Dr Maroon said...

Scarlet, as always, I am quite jocco. Chust sublime in fact. Thank you for asking. I'll always take a hug, I am quite American that way. What'll you have? MM? Coming right up!


Eryl, alas I am. There is no shame whatsoever in being a fool or stupid. The small businessman's shame lies in his ability to engage in smalltalk and his natural greed. Yet our nation depends on their confidence.

Clarissa darling,
I am aware of the lateness of the hour. What stopped you putting an advert in NME in 73, 74, 75? Why?
Anyway, my limerance must be endured. I've stood worse. I can take it.
Peeling spuds IS theraputic. I have ironed my way well into next week. I have never been more proud.

Scarlet my dearest,
never, ever, like ever, sell yourself short.
Warm flesh is beyond price and certainly beyond value.
AND nothing cheers like a jam tart from the oven. Please, have another.

Pat I'm on my way. Thanks.

Inkspot no. They buried him in the shittiest shattered steel town that he hated and escaped. It was punishment. They are vindictive bastards. Sorry, long story.
Em, the axes don't need labeling. They represent changes in demand in money markets. They show exactly what's going on but nobody knows what's going to happen tomorrow.

If it turns out you are a good cook too, and I've had my suspicions, well...

Daphne, was it not Dorothy? No, not that one, the funny clever one?

Dr Maroon said...

I am a Sanguine Choleric.
I'm bossy but my children's friends love me.

xerxes said...

My (only) point about the axes was that I needed help understanding the effing graphs.
But now I know that they illustrate demand in the money markets and not the phase transitions of helium I don't care so much.

Be careful of those personality tests. Whatever the results, your nearest and dearest will use them against you.

Mrs Pouncer said...

Daphne, Dr Maroon. I am Sanguine Melancholy, which is the worst of the lot. Unstable martyr who repeats herself.
Jesus. An unstable martyr, who repeats herself.

Ms Scarlet said...

I'm Melancholy Sanguine . . . ?

Ms Scarlet said...

LOL :o)

Conan Drumm said...

Economists don't have axes for confidence, trust, prudence, error or malfeasance.

They might as well call the vertical 'the wager', and the horizontal 'the odds'.

To be clear, economics is not a 'science', it presumes one human behavioural response (demand) when there are thousands.

Elevating 'demand' (a construct of the market) over 'need' has us in the evolutionary cul de sac we are now mired in.

savannah said...

i'm packing.


Ms Scarlet said...

I'm here with a dribbly Mule Dr Maroon . . . but i really need to go to bed now. Don't let Mrs P catch me here at this time of night or she might start spouting algebra at me again and that's just plain scary . . . bedtime.

Kim Ayres said...

Ah well, if it's economics you're on about, this explains all