Disclaimer: The following is a true story, and any resemblance to any real person, place or event is purely coincidental.
If you are one of those dial-up losers, please go hunt a whale and come back while the page finishes loading. The exercise will hopefully be worthwhile. For fuller details, click on each picture. And bring your kids! Here goes…
Not so long ago, far away from Hopeful Capes,
and a few hundred miles away from the surreally beautiful, jacaranda-lined streets of the city named after Andries Pretorius,
an African sun was slowly setting in the breathtaking bleakness of a long-awaited spring in the jungle.
A black princess named Hopeful was heading in the direction of Wall Street for a long drink with her friends.
She strayed away from her more conservative friends while chatting up a flirting Prince Subprime, the latter clad in a dapper, striped suit. “Come on, in vest with me, heheh”, the suit smirked.
Suddenly, Princess Hopeful was attacked by a violent group of blood-thirsty animals. Prince Subprime ran away in fear. He had only heard of a bear run, but what was this?
In a few minutes, Princess Hopeful was dead meat.
The world watched by, ostrich-like.
“No one was willing to stick his neck out for the princess”, she cried.
No, not even the heavyweights.
The big cat was sated, having had the lion’s share of the killing,
but his cohorts were behaving like Lehmann executives. In no time, the vultures flew in to take stock, and then waited patiently for payday.
Watching all this, an obscure Indian celebrity turned away indifferently, eager for relief from the heat and dust of jungle politics.
He was tired of the constant
sale sell-offs. Every dip is a buying opportunity, the stock market pundits used to say. He was tired of buying.
By next day, he heard someone say, “The bulls are finished”, and wondered what it meant.
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(Pictures: all mine, taken with a simple Sony Cybershot 7.2 MP camera)