Not nearly frightened enough!

by the Night Writer


(from boing-boing)

Nancy features the word “zombie” in her Word for the Week on Fritinancy, and offers an entertaining history of the origin and uses of the word as well, of course, as its place in our entertainment and culture. Included in this is the following punditry she’s come across recently:

But it’s the ongoing global financial crisis that has truly reanimated “zombie.” References to zombie banks and zombie companies have proliferated over the last 12 months. “The threat of zombies here and now is real,” wrote Alyce Lomax in the Motley Fool blog last week:

That is, the zombie banks and zombie corporations that are artificially kept alive even though in any rational, natural world they should be dead. And if these reanimated corpses are still stumbling around, growing greater and greater in number, well, I’m pretty sure we all know what appears to be causing the dead to rise.

In a Jan. 18 column titled “Wall Street Voodoo,” New York Times op-ed columnist and Nobel Prize winner Paul Krugman wrote about a hypothetical bank, “Gothamgroup”:

On paper, Gotham has $2 trillion in assets and $1.9 trillion in liabilities, so that it has a net worth of $100 billion. But a substantial fraction of its assets — say, $400 billion worth — are mortgage-backed securities and other toxic waste. If the bank tried to sell these assets, it would get no more than $200 billion.

So Gotham is a zombie bank: it’s still operating, but the reality is that it has already gone bust. Its stock isn’t totally worthless — it still has a market capitalization of $20 billion — but that value is entirely based on the hope that shareholders will be rescued by a government bailout.

I think in these cases the zombies are roaming the streets moaning for “Brains!” not because they want to eat them but because they seem to have misplaced them. This does give me an excuse to link to a classic from Tiger Lilly, however:


(Finally, the Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader-level trivia question: What movie did the headline of this post come from? Hint: it wasn’t a zombie film.)

Update:

To find out what the zombies don’t want you to know (i.e., who you’re really borrowing from) go here. (HT: Through the Illusion).

Whoa! Another post!!

by the Mall Diva

Has Hell frozen over?

No!!!

I have something important to tell you! Last November Princess Flickerfeather and her brother Prince Donny went down to Oklahoma to help Tracy Trost, a friend of ours, work on an original film. They had a blast, and PFF even blogged all about it here!

Anyhoo, now the trailer is up, and I have a request to make of you:
Would you please join facebook (if you’re not on it already), watch the trailer and become a fan of the movie? It would mean ever so much to us, it’s quite an exciting event!! Thanks!

Picture this: Surrender, Dorothy

by the Night Writer

We’re not in Kansas any more. Actually, I’ve never lived in Kansas but I thought about Kansas today during praise & worship at church. Well, what I was thinking about was “the rock” of my foundation and how important it is to build my house on the rock instead of shifting sand. So how does Kansas enter into this? Bear with me a moment.

In my last post I referenced Jesus’ parable of the man who builds his house on the solid rock vs. the man who builds on shifting sand and how these homes fare when the rains, floods and winds come along. As an analogy I described the rain as being the economy (dampening everything), the floods as what washes away our job or business and the winds as the stresses that come along in the storm that and batter us (perhaps in our relationships, or health), adding to the destruction. Jesus suggested we “build” our homes — or lives — on something that can’t be shaken and I’ve tried to renew my thinking over the years in order to do that. And that’s when I thought of Kansas.

You see, in “The Wizard of Oz”, when the twister appears on the Kansas horizon, Auntie Em and the others don’t have a basement in the farmhouse to run to. Instead they have a detached root or storm cellar for emergencies. When that picture appeared in my mind it made me realize that there are probably areas in my life where I’ve built near my foundation but not actually upon it; things that look solid and even Biblical and may even be good, but are not built on that key foundation. “Doctrines of man” might be an example of this. Meanwhile, we take for granted the thing with the solid foundation, perhaps using it for storage or our convenience, almost forgetting what it’s there for.

The thing is, when the storms and the wind come, the things I’ve built near the foundation — good, bad or indifferent — will blow away. The question I have to answer, then, is whether or not I’ll chase after those things that are blowing down the road (after all, I’ve likely put a lot of time and effort into these) or if I’ll look for people still out in the storm and try to wave them over into shelter.

What would you do?

Everyone asks me why I came home…

by The Mall Diva

Last year at the beauty shop we had a friendly little competition in which the goal was to acquire points by selling retail and getting our clients to refer their friends, among other things. The prize would be that my boss, Jackie, would take the winner to Florida. (She goes there quite often because her brothers own condos there in Destin.) This was a big deal, and we started collecting points as fast as we could. It was kind of silly, though, because we didn’t really establish a good way of keeping track of all the points; plus Amy (who owns the bakery about three doors down fom us, and does not work in our shop)would send me all the girls she coaches in softball (which I’m not complaining about), but then she would claim the points. Hello! That’s bogus!!

Anyway, I think it was pretty clear that I won, but Jackie is nice, so she decided that she would take my co-worker, Candace, Amy, and me. We left January 9th at about 5 p.m., and partied until the day we returned home, the 14th. Yep, partied real hard, which for me included dancing, being the designated driver, and singing in a bar called Rum Runners. No, it was not karaoke, and yes, I am expecting my pay check to come soon.

Oh, yeah! The weather was kind of rainy and icky for a couple of days, but then it cleared up and was sunny. We walked on the beach a lot, and even swam! (Not in the ocean, silly, in a heated pool!) On our last day there we were walking on the beach, and my boss was wearing her swimsuit. A lady came up to us and said to her, “Wow, you’re pretty brave.” (I guess it felt a little cool out to the native Floridians, but to us from the frozen tundra it was definitely bikini weather.) Jackie said “Well I have to be out here like this, I have to go home today!!” “I hope you’re not from Minnesota.” “Yeah, we are.” “You guys just made national news!”

I was all for staying til April, after hearing that.

(Just kidding, Benny!)

I have lots of pictures, I’ll try to do another post just for them tomorrow.

Of bubbles, bread, seeds and cookies

by the Night Writer

One of the characteristics of the dearly remembered housing boom was the sprouting of “McMansions” in former cornfields or alongside golf courses. These were very cool looking homes and we enjoyed touring these during the Parade of Homes, especially those listed at $1 million or more.

It made for an afternoon’s diversion and fantasy, but you had to wonder at some of the value represented. A salesperson was showing us around one $750k model townhome and as we were admiring the well-appointed family room the resident in the home that shared a common wall flushed the toilet. We knew this because we could clearly hear the water running through the pipes and the tank refilling. This is not an unusual experience when you live in an apartment or a townhouse, but not a big selling feature if you’re going to spend $750k. Other times we’d tour a million dollar home with Ben, who is an experienced carpenter, and watch as he pointed out subtle mistakes in fit and finish. In one case there was painted over evidence of a load-bearing wall not doing it’s duty, likely as a result of a problem with the foundation.

I think of these things, and foundations, in the burst residue of the housing and mortgage bubble as the entire economy sags like the wings of a great house falling toward the basement because the center-beam wasn’t set as well as you might think. It’s the latest demonstration of the Biblical exhortation to build your home on solid rock and not on shifting sand. Of course, the Bible is using the house as a metaphor, as am I. Let’s review Matthew 7:24-27:

“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock.

“But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.”

Doesn’t that sound familiar, and in more ways than one? Allow me to extend the metaphor into an analogy: today’s economy is the rain, and the effects of it in our lives are the floods, and the wind is the additional adversities that come to challenge our faith and make us doubt what we are standing upon, or whether the rock is enough to save us.

We have to build with storms in mind, an outlook almost completely lacking in the latest run-up as people seemed to assume that storms had become extinct and that those sets of conditions would continue in perpetuity (just as some now assume the current situation is forever). What is the housing bubble, or any bubble, all about but value driven by high expectations rather than intrinsic worth, or the greater fool theory? In those conditions you’re not building a foundation on a rock; you’re not even building it on sand which can at least be heavy — you’re building it on something as flimsy and as easily popped as a bubble. And great is the fall.

A Poem for “Choice”

I came across this poem in time for “Blogs for Choice Day” today:



Middle-Age

by Pat Schneider



The child you think you don’t want

is the one who will make you laugh.

She will break your heart

when she loses the sight in one eye

and tells the doctor she wants to be

an apple tree when she grows up.



It will be this child who forgives you

again and again

for believing you don’t want her to be born,

for resisting the rising tide of your body,

for wishing for the red flow of her dismissal.

She will even forgive you for all the breakfasts

you failed to make exceptional.



Someday this child will sit beside you.

When you are old and too tired of war

to want to watch the evening news,

she will tell you stories

like the one about her teenaged brother,

your son, and his friends

taking her out in a canoe when she was

five years old. How they left her alone

on an island in the river

while they jumped off the railroad bridge.




“Middle-Age” by Pat Schneider, from Another River: New and Selected Poems. © Amherst Writers and Artists Press, 2005.




Telling the temperature by the LRT

by the Night Writer

Back in the day, when we were closer to the land, people could predict weather or gauge temperature without thermometers or technology by observing the behavior of animals, insects, clouds or clairvoyant joints. We don’t rely on natural observation that much anymore, but I have observed one way, in this recent cold-snap, to tell just how cold it is.

There’s an electronic alarm bell at the Fort Snelling Light Rail station that clangs at high speed whenever a train is approaching or departing. It’s a loud, hyper ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding when temperatures are, say, above 10 degrees. When it drops below 10, however, the bell is muted and lower in pitch and makes a steady ng-ng-ng-ng-ng growl like a chihuahua passing a cheeseball.

When it’s below zero, however, its clamor is restricted to a choked and tortured ng………..ng………..ng…………ng every few seconds.

Granted, it’s not a very useful way to gauge the temperature if you’re not near the bell, but it’s a handy confirmation if you happen to be walking past it, shivering and wondering if it can really be as cold as it feels. And this gives me the opportunity to run another of O. Winston Link’s steam engine photos from the 1950s that I love so much.

Besides being an inventive and talented photographer faithfully recording the images of a passing era, Link also had a passion for recording the distinctive and fading sounds of the old steam engines as well. These recordings are a lot more pleasant and evocative than the sound of a freezing electronic bell these days, and have a way of taking you places in your mind that the trains themselves never could. You can listen to a few of these recordings here. You can also go hear the Fort Snelling LRT bell for yourself without going back in time, but you’ll want to bundle up.