Category: Uncategorized

The Two Cow Theory Of Economics

cows-5Apparently, the Two Cow Theory Of Economics has been running around Cyperspace for years.  Who knew?  I just found it, which shows I’m so far out of the loop I think it’s square.  Anyway, I don’t normally post stuff that isn’t mine on my blog — especially when I can’t give the author credit — but this is so hilarious I’ve made an exception.  Plus, I’ve added a few WDisms, so I don’t feel too guilty.  Anyway, The Two Cow Theory of Economics

Communism — You have two cows.  The state takes both of them and gives you some milk.

Socialism — You have two cows.  The state takes both of them, gives one back and gives one to your neighbour who, like you, had two cows until the state took both of them gave one back and gave the other one to his neighbour — who, like you, had two cows until the state ….

Fascism — You have two cows.  The state takes both of them and sells you some milk.

Nazism — You have two cows.  The state takes both of them for war production and shoots you for withholding cows.

Bureaucratism — You have two cows.  The state takes both of them, shoots one, milks the other and then throws the milk away.

Capitalism — You have two cows.  You sell one cow and buy a bull.  Your herd grows.  You start selling milk.  You buy more cows.  You build a dairy.  You sell more milk.  You buy more cows.  You spend so much time with cows and milk your wife divorces you, takes the kids and moves in with a vegetarian.  You end up with a trophy wife who’s in it for the money, an ulcer the size of Boston and a therapist who tells you, “You were happier when you only had two cows.”

Venture Capitalism — You have two cows.  You sell three of them to your publicly-listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank.  You execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so you can get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.  The milk rights of the six cows are transferred (via an intermediary) to a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by a majority shareholder (you) who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your publicly-listed company.  Your annual report says the company now owns eight cows with an option to buy one more.

A French Corporation — You have two cows.  The state pays you twice as much as the milk is worth.  You go on strike, organize a riot and block the roads — because you want three cows.

An Italian Corporation — You have two cows.  You don’t know where they are.  You decide to have lunch.

A Swiss Corporation — You have 5,000 cows.  None of them belongs to you.  You charge the real owners megabucks to hide their cows for them.

An American Corporation — You have two cows.  You sell both of them to buy a 4-wheel drive, Japanese-made pickup truck.  You get totally pissed because you have to buy all your milk from a foreign country.  You hire an Agricultural Consultant to figure out why there are no jobs in the dairy industry.

An Indian Corporation — You are the reincarnation of a cow.

An Irish Corporation — You have two cows.  One of them is a horse.  The EU lends you enough money to buy another cow.  You bet it on the horse.

A George Orwell Corporation — You have two humans.

An Australian Corporation — You have two cows.  Business looks good, so you close the office for a month or two and backpack through Europe.

A Dutch Corporation — You have two cows.  However, you’re not allowed to make cheese or sell your milk because the EU doesn’t like the look of your barn.

An Iraqi Corporation — Everybody thinks you have a lot of cows.  You tell them that you don’t have any cows.  Nobody believes you and they bomb the crap out of you.  You still don’t have any cows.

A Cuban Corporation — Cows?

A British Corporation — You have two cows.  Unfortunately, half your cows are continually voting to leave the herd.

A Greek Corporation — French and German banks loan you two cows.  You eat them.  The banks call to collect the milk you promised, but you don’t have any so you call the IMF.  The IMF loans you two cows.  You eat them.  Everybody wants either the milk you promised or their cows back.  You don’t answer the telephone ’cause you’re at a wedding.

A North Korean Corporation — The Glorious Leader has all the cows.  He invented them.

And my very favourite:

A Chinese Corporation — You have two cows.  You have 300 people milking them.  You claim China has no unemployment and 100% bovine productivity.  You arrest all the journalists who live close to the farm.

Shameless Self Promotion (Again)

cover-finalOMG! We’ve gone global!  The Woman In The Window is now available at Amazon as both a paperback and a Kindle eBook in the US, the UK and Europe.  It’s also available as a Kindle eBook in Australia, Mexico, India and Japan.  Wow!  This is great.

I want the very best for this literary child of mine.  I want thousands of people to read it (millions would be nice, but ….)  I want it translated into 14 languages — beginning with Dutch.  I want 3 of the stories to be made into major motion pictures (guess which ones!) starring Ethan Hawke, Ruth Wilson and Amy Schumer (in her first dramatic role.)  I want people to read it on buses, boats, trains and airplanes.  I want people to take it on vacation and on business trips.  But mostly, I want what every writer wants: I want The Woman In The Window to become somebody’s  birthday present, or Christmas present or Hi-I-Was-Just-Thinking-About-You present.  That means my stories are good enough for your friends, and if that happens, I’ve done my job.  Then I can die happy.  (No pressure!)

So, if you read  The Woman In The Window, I hope you find something there that touches you — makes you think, makes you wonder.  But if you do read it, please, please, please give it a review on Amazon — the good, the bad and the ugly — even if it’s only a single word.  There’s nothing worse for an author than indifference.

There are too many links to list them all here (that’s what going global means.) However, if you want to find The Woman In The Window, maybe just look inside and see what you think, go to Amazon in whatever country and search “wd fyfe.”  You’ll find me, The Woman In The Window and a few of the stories that are in the book.  You can “Look Inside” as long as you want.  I hope you like what you read.

And Amy Schumer — if you’re reading this — give me a call.

My Sisters Were Wizards

When I was a kid, my sisters were wizards.  They had magic words that could turn a pillow-high, cozy warm brass bed into the March family living room.  They had incantations that produced beautiful horses, stinking French sewers and one sad little dog named Greyfriars Bobby.  They could conjure people and places at will, and on one occasion, they harnessed the wind from a stay-home-from-school bitter Saskatchewan storm to propel our ships out of danger.  They cast spells that bewitched me so completely that, long before I was allowed to cross the street by myself, I could travel through the puny barriers of time and space with ease.  And it was there that my sisters abracadabra-ed their friends for me — Black Beauty, Travis and his dog Yeller, Hans Brinker and the queen of long, lazy summer afternoons, Nancy Drew.

sisters1

The source of my sisters’ sorcery was the Mayfair Public Library.  It was a cavernous basement with high little citadel windows and dim, humming electric light.  It was a place of holy quiet, brown with wisdom and heavy with wooden shelves.  It was guarded by ferocious matrons in sensible shoes.  They kept their eyes on little boys who might be loud — or sticky — but, by then, I knew how powerful and precious books were, so I sat quietly and kept my eye on them.  I remember thinking, “I’m a little boy now, but someday… someday, I will decipher your runes and, like Lochinvar,* I’ll come and I’ll take what I want and know your magic for myself.”  I knew I would do this.  I knew it because my sisters were never jealous witches, concealing their art.  Tired of me pestering them to read to me, they were already showing me that the tiny symbols in the books made sounds and the sounds made words — and the words, taken together, made power.

Today I am a wizard.  I have spent a lifetime studying the alchemy of words — reading and writing them.  I still smile when they are used well in delightful new combinations and still cry when they are abused.  I will never tire of their wonder.  I do this because once upon a time, in a time that doesn’t exist anymore, five magical sisters loved their little brother so much they taught him how to read.

*My sisters knew Lochinvar personally and, two years in a row, two different sisters memorized his adventures — so I did, as well.   Even now, I still have a stanza or two.