Thursday, November 12, 2009

evolution of market forces in the early twentieth century

"Market forces" as espoused by the perps who bankrupted us is that the suckers who bought the "Genuine Rolex" watch should all rise up and beat the snot out of the creep who sold it to us, and then demand the money back. This is also called "revolution" and it is feared in exactly the same way, that is to say the perpetrators of violence against their own kind fear retribution because they hurt so many. If each of us wanted to, and were permitted to slap the face of the person who hurt us there are "great men and women" who would have their faces slapped to oblivion. I am not suggesting anyone should do that thing, but if I thought it would do any good I would and maybe I wouldn't, because so many people came to slap me. We' ve all screwed somebody somehow, even if we never saw the car we cut off we still did a "bad" thing. There are no doubt some now-middle aged women who would track me down and I would have to let them wind up and slap me hard, because now I can see what it was that put me in that frame of mind to do a thing that would now make me blush with rage. No, you can't expect that invoking divine permission to clean up the earth by hurting some one(s) is a righteous thing to do. Even if you try to even the bloodshed by strapping the bomb on or piloting the plane yourself, you still hurt far more many people, even a People, by hurting some one. The Jains have made some very good points in that diretion.

The phrase "As above, so below" comes into play. If we ignore great harm being done then the gods who play out our fantasy will be great causes of harm. They can burn the planet clean, or at least wipe out People. One should not count on being called "Great" by One who made you. We are but leaves on the Tree, and the seasons cannot be held back. So in a strange way we are witnessing an ancient play, one I have read many times in many forms. Where the Western world is messing with the locals they can stir up old memories. There was once a Goddess who was sent into a rage and sent against a foe. When she had defeated him she was still hungry for more death and blood. She went out across the land killing everything. The other Gods became alarmed and needed to stop her. So they filled a vast field with beer and colored it red. They told her it was blood and she drank it up, and then got sleepy and lay down. That's how they saved the world, that time. Now we have a vast bloodletting with bodies floating down sacred rivers. Kids are getting their hands blown off. Now the question should be, how can we lure the death dealers, the dictators and presidents, the heads of states and heads of corporations, all of them to a vast pool of blood which is really beer. How can we think they are getting something wonderful when they're just being made less deadly and aggressive. We could suddenly make them all trillionaires and all of us nillionaires, then they'd have it all and maybe they'd go to sleep. We could plow the beer into the earth and grow potatoes and beans and stop fighting. It would be nice to stop killing for a generation or ever. I see no need to harm a person, especially not some child playing in her yard. If I were a God or Goddess and I saw men killing children, even from a vast distance, I would get as pissed as Inanna was and I would go into such a rage as to wipe out all those people and their servants. Thinking along those lines I have to point out that everybody serves somebody somehow. It's not a bad thing to serve someone who is bad themselves. But it is unethical, because you aid someone who is therefor more able to do that bad thing. I pay my taxes, my President sends bombs which kill children, am I not complicit?

If harming none is important, then by understanding the dual nature of Self allows that we not harm ourselves, and we are more than the sum of our parts.

It gets complicated, and it's not like math, you can't really whittle it down to abstracts. Harm has a face, even if it only recently had arms, too. Throw in emotion and tradition and it seems impossible to imagine. Doing no harm is hard when you look at the implications of daily actions and inactions. The reaction is to pull in and focus on the ground in front of your feet.

How does that fit in with market forces? because market forces call for a set of forces which naturally achieve equilibrium. The best way to illustrate this is with a pendulum. Billy, would you bring in the pendulum? (Billy brings in the pendulum) Now, note how it swings back and forth, back and forth, just like market forces. Back and forth, up and down and then back around, just like market forces. You see? You see how just like market forces the pendulum is? Billy, please pass the hat among the kind people and collect all their wallets, rings and jewlery. Quickly, now!

That's how market forces work. Not like a pendulum, but by a person hurting many. A "Market" is where people go and buy bread of various kinds from various people who all meet in a public place. When we speak of market "forces" we speak of dark forces, buried behind closed doors, guarded by people who do not care. I would rather buy my tomatoes from the man who lives down the street and was able to grow tomatoes when nobody else did, not because he created a hybrid gene manipulated thing that looked like a tomato but could not reproduce a similar tomato. He had a greenhouse he built himself. Instead of selling off parts of his small farm he put up a greenhouse just before a late blight wiped out every tomato plant in the north east. The story doesn't say he got rich. It says he was Blessed by the Earth when others were not. He didn't sell the earth to builders of energy deficient pseudo Victorian mac-mansions. That's the moral and that's the best ending. But wait, there's more! I was Blessed by being able to buy local tomatoes from a friend when my own had died from the blight. AND the blight bugs were Blessed because they found a region full of young tomato plants with just the right conditions of constant rainfall for weeks on end. So as Tiny Tim said, "Why do those boys keep pulling out my crutch from under me, Mummy?"

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