A Little Death

It's a new pack. Everything about it feels good. I twist the ribbon off, the motion of wrapping line around a lure, pull at the cellophane, then crack open the oyster.

I tear the foil away carefully, as if other hands folded it like origami. The round white heads look like a choir waiting for their cue. The first one out always resists. It gets squeezed a little.

I flick the lighter, seeing sparkles in the flame, hearing them, then listening to the flow of gas. The lighter is in my right hand, the cigarette in my left. It begins like this, then I switch.

A quarter drag gets the cigarette lit--each still a shock to the system--then a quick exhale and the full drag. If you don't smoke, think of it like a deep breath of air on a late December day, a gentle burn, a little death.

Bulls, Bears, and Panthers

Is 'bear market' the right name for this? Bears aren't so fast. I'd call it a panther market--you don't even have time to be scared.

Not much else to say about the Bear Stearns bailout that you won't read on a thousand other blogs. I'll just offer some boilerplate I found in my broker's prospectus.

(art from Strange Tales #135, August 1965, Jack Kirby)