No, I'm Doug

[Terrance]

Eulenspiegel7646 at aol.com wrote:
> 
> In the expostulation of the existential post-modern deal, the frazz is
> equal to all known substances.  In the meantime, Terrance & Quail,
> feeling like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, bemoan the
> fate of the Market, while Barbara commiserates.  In an Ideal World,
> peripatetically, strange things begin to befall, swimming through the
> conscious mess like primordial slime. Coffee time.
> 
> Irwin Corey

I'm not bemoaning the fate of the markets, but the fate of the men and
woman and children murdered and crippled and maimed and impoverished by
the terror that struck the market place. I bemoan  the  fate of those
whip-sawed by the market's gyrations brought on by the acts of terror
and the acts of powerful men who have manipulated or tried to manipulate
the markets. 

They have both failed. American men and woman stand tall. The terrorists
and anti-globalists may dance in the streets or crack a guilty smile and
say,

 "they had it coming, too bad for the dead, but I'm sure they had
insurance,"  

but they don't understand the markets at all, they never will understand
the humanity of it. They  talk of the markets as if they are machines or
the machinations of corporate monsters who murder and exploit the poor
and underprivileged. With the smell of rotting corpses rising from the
ashes and tears still flowing all around, they can only offer a false
condolence for the murdered children of America, but oh how they scream
from the paper minarets about the children half way round the world.
There is something odd in that. Isn't there?   Some sort of denial, some
self-righteous, self-serving phoniness, some perverse need to control
the emotions and politics of others as if they were children.  Call it
anti-American or misguided and strident, but I'd  call it   the sort of
Brock Vond and Frenesi self-serving and maniacal betrayal  (with a
madwoman in the attic named Barbara) we find in VL.