Grasping for meaning and reading comments on Economist.com about Monday's Government seizure of mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, I came across this from "muggeridge".
"Somehow it still does not feel safe out there in the land of globalised trading as banks trade on mortgage debt according to their default potential. Betting on failure is not healthy for anyone...it should be banned immediately."
Upon reading that, I was taken back in time to a $20 crap table at the Las Vegas Aladdin. It was a family trip and someone decided we should go see the Steve Wyrick Magic show.
Both proved to be bad decisions. First, Steve Wyrick is an unconvincing magician. Second, when you only have $80 in your pocket, do not play the $20 table.
Be aware that at night in Vegas, the $5 tables go away. And that Craps is a game of critical mass. At its best a Crap table is overflowing with bets, breasts, and booze. Meaning = the table is packed. With lots of lady luck. And everyone's drunk.
Our $20 table had none of these qualities. But still, the "Magic Show" didn't start for awhile. And we needed some action to distract us from how terrible Aladdin's Castle was.
We started out decent enough. Getting drunk. Up a little. Then a loud group rolled in to occuppy the opposite side of the table. Which at first, looked like another step towards critical mass. But after a roll or two I realized the other side of the table was doing something very bad. Evil even.
They were betting against the table. They were betting the Don't Pass line.
I peered closely and realized the people at the end of the table were actually Vampires.
They were certainly sucking the life out to of the table. Cheering every time someone lost money. Then it was my turn to roll.
The placed huge gobs of chips in the nether regions of the table and waited for me to stake my meager existance on the Pass Line. (I swear one of the Vampires licked his sanguine lips while leaning in. Probably so he could breathe-deep the smell of fear emanating from my side of the table.)
Four was the point-- bad odds. And with the hissing snakes waiting for me; their open-collared shirts, sunken eyes and black intentions-- I might have had more momentum swimming against the rip-tide at La Jolla Beach.
The moment when you for the first time, truly respect the power of the Ocean-- is always violent. The Ocean flashes its utter dominance with such flippant ease that you are left unaware of your predicament until your body has already been jackhammered into the rippled sandy bottom.
Now you know how frantic feels and you fight like hell. Eventually, massaging your battered ego, thankful to be alive (also, truly, for the first time), you drag yourself safely to shore.
But my Vegas-buffet-garlic-breath was useless against the undead powers of evil that night in Aladdin's Castle. I crapped out.
Rolling the dice against evil did however show me a glimpse of something. That evil intentions are to be respected (vampires at the crap table and vampires in the stock pit, included). But not the way you respect the Ocean.
Seas swell. Tides come and go like Time itself. Sea-changes are made. These things you can not choose. Evil and Good are.
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