Ti's the season for more Pinky's Yultide Tailing Box...
Yuletide at POGton Place. In our last episode...
I say Jeeves, the mannequin carolers you set in the bay window are a
capital Holiday touch.
Thank you Sir.
Hmmm...which Christmas lyrics do you have them holding--no don't tell
me...Silver Bells? No, their faces seem somewhat subdued--more Advent
I'd say. Silent Night rather?
Well, actually Sir, I haven't quite gotten around to copying actual
lyrics for them.
Indeed? Then what's the paper they're holding?
I took the liberty of using the Bre-X certificates from on the mantle
Sir.
Good man. Ironically, it isn't the first time a bunch of dummies have been left holding this useless paper.
¶
Jeeves, splendid tree! Er, what are all those shiny ornaments covering our hemlock?
I took the liberty of procuring the silver art bars from your tacklebox Sir. And I did invest some time in hanging a few of your Krugerrands as well for good measure.
Actually Krugerrands were hung as an investment years ago.
Shall I bring a glass of evening sherry?
Yes, quite apropos. Er, turn on the telly would you...
CLICK
Great Scott! They're bombing Iraq again.
Those dirty Iraqis Sir.
Dirty you say? Mopping up a few more Iraqi janitors I suspect.
¢¢¢
I heard the shells t'wards Bagdad way,
Their "wag the dog" suspicions play.
And mild and meek the words retreat,
Of impeachment for perjury.
I thought how, as the day had come,
An intern loose and Clinton Dumb.
Had rolled along th' unbroken song
Of infidelity again.
And in despair I bowed my head
"There is no impeachment," I said,
"For spin is strong and mocks the song
Of impeachment for perjury."
Though wield the shells more loud and deep:
"Good sense not dead, despite our Veep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With impeachment for perjury."
Till ringing, singing comes next Mon.
The world revolved to Ramadan,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of impeachment for perjury.
$
The Charge of the Long Brigade
S & P, S & P,
S & P onward,
All in the Vally of Dow
Rode the 500.
"Forward, the long brigade!
Charge into the funds!" he said:
Into the valley of Dow
Rode the 500.
"Forward, the long brigade!"
Was there an investor afraid?
Not tho' the YK2...
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to be alert,
Theirs not to reason hurt,
Theirs but to lose their shirt:
Into the valley of Dow
Rode the 500.
Bank runs to right of them,
Bad funds to left of them,
Stocks shunned in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Crashed and all shot to hell,
Boldly they peaked and fell,
Into bear claws pell-mell,
Throughout the pits they sell
Unloaded the 500.
Flash'd all their savings bare,
Flash'd as if holding air,
Bringing more funds to despair,
Charging and margined, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the market downstroke.
Of red at the bottom line they spoke:
Brazil and Russia
Boomed, banged, and broke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Yet some cash remained intact, but not,
Not in the 500.
Metals to right of them,
Bear-X to left of them,
Midas behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Stormed at with cascading sells,
While all of the S & P's fell,
They that had performed so well
Came cash outflows with Dow,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of 500.
When can their PE's fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
How 31.29 displayed!
Honour this Long Brigade,
Noble 500.
--Pennyless Son
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