The Budgell Family Chronicles, post 1:An Aussie comes to the Aid of Finance Capitalism
A very witty and sensitive cyber-mate of mine wrote a new status update on his facebook site that caught me in the throat (arriving as it did in those dark days when America stood alone at the occasion of the first House Bailout bill. It was then that kindly hearts were so downcast and lips blubbing and tremulous). My friend's status-feed read: "Richard is having a garage sale in aid of Morgan Stanley. All welcome.
So my mind went conjuring in sentimental yet emboldened reveries, wondering what my own little family here on the other side of the Anglo-American World might do to give the old heave ho' for Global Capitalism. Rummage Sales were out because of mither's bleedings from her spots and psoriasis lesions, and I can't handle synthetics without 2 veterinary calving gloves on... So anyway, I wrote our Richard, and thanked him for his civic-mindedness and told him I would also do my bit for our System. I said: Isn't that lovely of you Rich, and so on...
Back on the home front in our flat (with bedrooms & bath upstairs), I got to speaking my heart to my Mum and Missus and we came upon our plan very presently! Whilst I finished off a fifth of Rye and what was left of the brasso, the ladies planned out the weaving of a fireman-regulation sized 100% Virgin Scottish wool Harris Tweed Net that we shall personally take to New York City's Wall Street for the benefit of the many anticipated Wall Street Jumpers to make the tragic desperate leap in months to come. My old mum was the one who came up with the idea to crown our offering -- we would drive it down to the Yanks on The May Long Weekend and make a real road-adventure of it. The dear old doll has a heart the size of the late Queen Mum's, bless her....
Then this thought struck me whilst nodding off during the Epilogue on the Recliner after the girls had tidied and gone to their beds: as modern day pilgrims yet travel to Pompeii or to the remains of the Berlin Wall -- so Wall Street's edifices may yet become sites men look on as with a scornful wonder... this made me terribly terribly sad as I mused on the sun setting on yet another Empire, this time it seemed the kingdom of Finance Capital was in a process of dissolution. And then I thought I would gather up my little family up to serve as a kind of Catcher in the Rye for the individuals losing hope in the powers that be, and as I was just going under I started and heard myself say aloud: men won't be turned into pavement-stains if the Budgells' have anything to do with it.
Seems I'd come to consciousness due to my acid-reflux, so I turned off FOX News channel and as I climbed into bed munching my TUMS I pulled the bedclothes onto me and said an Ave. Lights out...
Andrew Reesor-Taylor
Back on the home front in our flat (with bedrooms & bath upstairs), I got to speaking my heart to my Mum and Missus and we came upon our plan very presently! Whilst I finished off a fifth of Rye and what was left of the brasso, the ladies planned out the weaving of a fireman-regulation sized 100% Virgin Scottish wool Harris Tweed Net that we shall personally take to New York City's Wall Street for the benefit of the many anticipated Wall Street Jumpers to make the tragic desperate leap in months to come. My old mum was the one who came up with the idea to crown our offering -- we would drive it down to the Yanks on The May Long Weekend and make a real road-adventure of it. The dear old doll has a heart the size of the late Queen Mum's, bless her....
Then this thought struck me whilst nodding off during the Epilogue on the Recliner after the girls had tidied and gone to their beds: as modern day pilgrims yet travel to Pompeii or to the remains of the Berlin Wall -- so Wall Street's edifices may yet become sites men look on as with a scornful wonder... this made me terribly terribly sad as I mused on the sun setting on yet another Empire, this time it seemed the kingdom of Finance Capital was in a process of dissolution. And then I thought I would gather up my little family up to serve as a kind of Catcher in the Rye for the individuals losing hope in the powers that be, and as I was just going under I started and heard myself say aloud: men won't be turned into pavement-stains if the Budgells' have anything to do with it.
Seems I'd come to consciousness due to my acid-reflux, so I turned off FOX News channel and as I climbed into bed munching my TUMS I pulled the bedclothes onto me and said an Ave. Lights out...
Andrew Reesor-Taylor
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