Poem for the day:- A Singular view of dualism

Upon a Sunlit hill I spied
A clock of stone where shadows lied
And cast the hands of Time unbidden
While inside many times were hidden
As many whens as many wheres
There animated Selves in pairs
Conjoined inside a walnut shell
Triune to render heav'n or hell
As Adam points to God appealing
Highest on the chapel ceiling
Asleep, awake in nights and days
While all around the theatre plays
Projections from the scenes inside
Reflections that the starry-eyed
So dream the world must come to be
As Leonardo's symmetry
Thus sum to nought with nothing left
And hunt the matter dark bereft
For balance in a moving scale
And seeking nothing find the veil
Of tears that binds the mind distraught
Across the river styx to nought

Yet from a circle to a line
Of thought is broken faith divine
Or as the telescope extended
Views but circles eyes pretended
Linear the God empirical
Sees but self's projected miracle
As Wigner in his very pomp
Was led the very merry romp
By Maths, that property of light
Itself can't see with second sight
And draws a circle black and pleasant
Where light is past but never present
Or as philosopher in words
Forgets the folding page absurds
And origami sums reverse
Blind calculating universe

But see through spectacles of Venn
Cross-referencing the now and then
Within the circle spacetime wrought
From something never back to nought
And Physics ends as Man begun
Binocular, as two in one.

Capital Controls Poem for the day. Part the Second. Tails

Centrally planned haircuts look immediately awful. Free market haircuts, a decade later. It is difficult to imagine the propaganda required to make millions of people pull their own eyebrows out, only to draw them back on with a pencil you've sold them. Some industries lend themselves to central planning, and -

REJ:- Just get on with it -

Idrisyesthatone:-

He slept upon the mountain ill
Descending curse of Cader
As Poet or insane to nil
Subtractor and the adder

And landing tails the other side
In fear and trembling frit
With hollow soul and windows wide
Saw more and less of it:-
The history of money wouldn't
Change a single bit
If every cent and dollar
Had been wholly counterfeit!

So money-less the New World spun
With distribution planned
Thus ended finance flying fun
On rocketships unmanned

And electronic sharing bits
Or paper, as to fashion
As each another's picture fits
To each received their ration

And all agreed, from money freed
Before had been much sillier
And all pretended not to see
Their rations looked familiar

The simple things were simply done
And all were fed and housed
And when the bell for work was rung
The world slept unaroused

Up shot the few, whose hearts were true
With love for man inspired
The resting market-forceless crew
Some other force required
And this the baser angels
Of our nature much desired

The prophets of the present, past
And future age be damned
When humans don't behave quite as
Projected projects planned.

REJ:- Da iawn Idris! Two out of two. Both wrong -

Idrisyesthatone:- Perhaps wait for 'edge' -

REJ:- Sioned says you're not allowed in when you've been 'expressing your liquidity preference'...

Capital Controls Pome for the day, Part the first.

The desert of Nevada bloomed on the back of broken dreams, paid for by the millions who lost. But a gambler can only lose, if the house wins. Overall, nothing can be lost.

In 2008, a rather larger gamble went wrong, and nothing was lost. In fact, so much nothing was lost, we're still paying for it now.

In every nation, freedom, democracy, autonomy - Sovereignty - lies, in like proportion, in the hands of those with the greater number of sovereigns. Thus the market force with which one may summon a waiter who despises -

REJ:- Waiter minute! That's not a pome! -

Idrisyesthatone:- *sigh* -

A madman came down from the hill
To say what he could see
He saw a coin toss land on edge
Between the binary

Now first he's going to call it heads
- You see the coin's still spinning -
And then it's tails, and then it's edge
With everybody winning

So all the money in the world
Was placed upon a rocket
And shot to space, the human race
Thus poundless in its pocket

It then appeared, not quite as feared
That nought was lost in wealth
The only cost, the rocket lost
And launcher's mental health

Upon the marble rolling straight
Around the curving sky
Was everything there was before
And humans wondered why

They scratched their heads, and each alone
Declared that wealth must plummet
Then scratched their heads together
At an 'International Summit'

The sane ones found, by common ground
A sense of deep unease
So printed pretty pictures
On some slices of some trees

And having learned their lesson
Launched their currency again
Put half upon the rocket -
Half to leave, and half remain

What left was burnt to nothing
What was left worth twice the same
It seemed quite difficult to lose
One's money in this game

How stupid are the tiny ants
Viewed economically
Twas almost as if peer review
Were circularity

And if you think you've seen a flaw
One must admit you're right:-
There's no need for the rocket or
The madman's second sight
Just look around the world and see
The capital aflight.

REJ:- I hope tails is better.