(3.8%)

[If this post had a subtitle, it would be, "I can't quit you, you Internets."]

OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!

The economy shrunk 3.8% in the last quarter, the worst since 1982!!

[...]

Wait a second... 1982? Don't get me wrong, that was a bad quarter we had, and as someone in sales, it has affected me personally. But 1982, in the great scheme of things, is not that long ago. The 3.8% drop is actually considered much better than what some economists feared, a drop of over 5%. For all of 2008 the GDP actually rose by a paltry, but still positive, 1.3 percent.

The sky is not falling. Repeat, the sky is not falling.

Concerning 1982, while it wasn't exactly the best year economically, neither was it the stuff of lore. You don't see grandma and grandpa in their rocking chairs, gathering the children together, telling the tales of those great trials and tribulations, those breadlines and joblines, of that annum horribilis -- 1982.

Heck, by 1984, things were so much better that President Reagan was using "Morning in America" to wipeout Walter Mondale in a manner that puts Obama's win over McCain -- while solid -- in a bit of perspective.

Looking at the $819 billion dollar "stimulus" (yes, I'm using irony quotes) it seems more like a cure worse than the disease. Democrats have been out of power for a while, and this $819 billion seems more like a spending spree, a celebratory "We're back and we got money" moment. A bunch of Carrie Bradshaws, shopping for designer shoes on the taxpayers dime.

As Rahm Emmanuel said, "Never let a serious crisis go to waste."

Unfortunately, the Republicans during the first six years of the Bush administration didn't see an appropriation they didn't like, and lost a lot of the credibility they held as the party of financial responsibility. However, that is a credibility Democrats never held, and the American people may be remembering that. The poll numbers supporting the stimulus have been dropping steadily.

And more importantly, the non-partisan and highly respected Congressional Budget Office has determined that the overwhelming majority of the $819 billion won't even be spent in the next two years, and that speeding up that spending would be impractical and reckless.

To add upon that, the Buy American clause within the stimulus, while sounding good and patriotic, may in fact lead to a trade war between the US and our trading partners, Europe and China chief among them.

Trade wars and tariffs during an economic downturn? Go and google "Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act." I dare you. And did you notice the year that act was passed? 1930. Now that was an annum horribilis!

I could go on, but you get the point.

Times are not good. They are, in fact, bad. But they're not horrible. They are not wretched. They are highly precedented and common. They do not require a rushed through, pork-laden stimulus that reeks more of political back scratching. The $819 billion stimulus will pass. The Democratic votes are there for it, no matter what the Republicans do.

But that means the Democrats own it.

When the economy recovers -- in six months, nine, at worst twelve, it always does -- people will look back and wonder, "Was that $819 billion (a whole helluva lot of money) really necessary?" And by that time, it will have been after the fact gone over with a fine tooth comb. What is rushed through today may be an embarrasement tomorrow.

So why can't the stimulus be gone over before then? If all of that money, according to the CBO, cannot be spent wisely within two years anyway...

Why spend it in the first place?

And Thanks For All The Fish (The End?)

This is the 827th post of Digital Nicotine. It may also be the last. I don't know.

For a professional, or semi-pro, blogging is an excellent venue. And there is a future out there in cyber-world. And the old media will have to change or die. Burn, baby, burn.

But I came on here back in '05 as an escape when I was working a brain numbing dead-end job for a pittance of a wage. Since then I have significantly upgraded my pay, bought a house, and got engaged.

What was once an escape, a vent and pleasure, is now a source of chore and battle. Reading this post by Aunt B just encapsulated for me how stupid and petty it all is. No, Hobbs does not think that what Williams did is actually the same as the betrayal of Christ, nor does anybody else who alludes to that common phraseology to describe a traitor, i.e.: a Judas. But words and intentions are twisted for convenience. Easier access for mockability.

And you best believe it's not just B doing this. It's damn near everybody. Right and left, liberal and conservative. And yes, I've been guilty too. Everybody in a damn competition to see who can be more clever than the next. Who can score the points. Who gets scored upon.

Recently, I haven't had the time to keep up. Been thinking about it recently, I haven't really wanted to keep up.

Say Uncle, whom I did not link enough during this bloggin run, once said, "I do this for me."

Words of wisdom.

Everybody, thanks for reading and commenting, it's been more good times than bad. As potentially my last post, I'd like to end all this with some E. A. Housman. Great poet, great poem. Somehow, this particular bit of verse captures how I feel.

*****

From "A Shropshire Lad"

LXII. Terence, this is stupid stuff


‘TERENCE, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can’t be much amiss, ’tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
But oh, good Lord, the verse you make, 5
It gives a chap the belly-ache.
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head:
We poor lads, ’tis our turn now
To hear such tunes as killed the cow. 10
Pretty friendship ’tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad.’

Why, if ’tis dancing you would be, 15
There’s brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton built on Trent?
Oh many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse, 20
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God’s ways to man.
Ale, man, ale’s the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot 25
To see the world as the world’s not.
And faith, ’tis pleasant till ’tis past:
The mischief is that ’twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where, 30
And carried half way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely muck I’ve lain, 35
Happy till I woke again.
Then I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet, 40
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.

Therefore, since the world has still
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure 45
Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure,
I’d face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.
’Tis true, the stuff I bring for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale: 50
Out of a stem that scored the hand
I wrung it in a weary land.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the embittered hour;
It should do good to heart and head 55
When your soul is in my soul’s stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.

There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast, 60
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all the springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more, 65
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat; 70
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white’s their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt.
—I tell the tale that I heard told. 75
Mithridates, he died old.

Brrrrr!

Some mornings there is no need for coffee. Such as this one, when I stepped out of the house and the wind hit me. (Bit me... smacked me... bitch slapped me, etc.) The bank thermostat I passed on the way to work said it was ten degrees.

Nope. No coffee needed today, because I am wide wide awake after that.

Though some hot cocoa would be really nice about now.

I Normally Don't Cuss, So That's My Warning For This Post, Cause I'm Gonna Go Off on This...

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Did. You. See. That. Game.

Jodie Meeks!

15 of 22 from the field. 14 of 14 from the line. 10 of 15 from behind the damn arc!

54 points! All time UK record! Passing Dan fucking Issel! In a win against a ranked team!

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

[Pause]

[Pause]

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Bacon!!

Bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon bacon...

BACON!!

BACON!!

It's Not The Words Per Se, But To Whom the Words Were Directed At

Came across this link to famous last words, very interesting enough, and the last one listed is by Karl Marx.

Here is the quote, and the description of the situation surrounding it.

"Go on, get out -- last words are for fools who haven't said enough." -- Revolutionary Karl Marx to his housekeeper, who urged him to tell her his last words so she could write them down.

Catch that? The last words Marx spoke were to his housekeeper. His housekeeper! Someone he or an associate paid... to serve... him.

Servants of the world, unite?

Appropriately illuminating. The man whom Marxism was named after could not, in his final moments, come close to living the philosophy he advocated. A foreshadowing of the futility of many of the violent Marx-inspired revolutions in the 20th century to come.

Note the Ciggarette

From the guys at Powerline:




"Many liberals enjoyed the disgusting attacks on President Bush by anti-American critics around the world. It will be interesting to see how they react when Obama is the target."

Interesting indeed.