COMMUNISM
You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbour.
SOCIALISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.
BUREAUCRATISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the
milk away…
TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM
You have 2 cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.
AN AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
Later, you hire a consultant to analyze why the cow has dropped dead.
LEHMAN BROTHERS VENTURE CAPITALISM
You have 2 cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters
of credit opened by your brother-in-law at Bear-Sterns, then execute a
debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you 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 the majority shareholder who sells the
rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on
one more.
You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States, leaving
you with nine cows. The public then buys your bull.
A FRENCH CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You go on strike, organize a riot, and block the roads, because you
want three cows.
A JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow
and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create a clever cow cartoon image called ‘Cowkimon’ and
market it worldwide.
A GERMAN CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and
milk themselves.
AN ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have 2 cows, but you don’t know where they are.
You decide to have lunch.
A RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You count them and learn you have 5 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.
A SWISS CORPORATION
You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.
A CHINESE CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity.
You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.
AN INDIAN CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
You worship them..
A BRITISH CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
Both are mad.
AN IRAQI CORPORATION
Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No-one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your
country.
You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of Democracy….
AN AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.
A NEW ZEALAND CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
The one on the left looks very attractive.
A TURKISH CORPORATION
You have 2 cows.
Both look very attractive.
The important thing to remember about your subconscious mind is that it isn’t very skilled at telling the difference between an imagined experience and a real one.
I watched the Real Housewives of New York City last night, and I felt sorry for one of the characters – LuAnn – who spent her scenes judging and handing down rights to her costar’s wrongs. She seemed so upright, tight, and closed off to herself, so how in the world could this woman understand those around her? The whole saying ‘stick up her ass’ rang out from my sometimes infantile call-to-mind, and I understood – perfectly – how the term came about. If there were an image-only definition for the term ‘stick up your ass’, I assure you her photo would be beside it; she’s the epitome of the term. Naturally, my thoughts – which are often times selfish – went back to me and I wondered if I had a stick up my ass most times.
There are times when I am rigidly focused on tasks, deadlines, and workflow that are applied to all aspects of my life that I may not see life through the debris (that needs organized). I’m too busy dusting the invisibles, tasking out spiritual endeavors, setting deadlines for life goal’s, or turning pleasurable hobbies into work, that the uncontrolled life becomes a victim of judgement calls. It isn’t until I pulled that stick from my own ass that I realized, wow, life is connecting to my proper nouns (people, places, and things). Sitting in my comfort area (if you don’t have a space that’s JUST yours…your personality, your history, your aesthetically pleasing environment…I suggest you get one immediately) with my brother on my shag rug listening to Reggae, my shoulders relaxed and my defenses were down. I shared my world with someone I care about and he listened with an open heart. It was then that I realized, don’t we all get sticks up our asses from time-to-time?
The feeling of putting your defenses down, connecting to every surrounding moment without judgment, and walking away from the experience knowing you need to do it more often is key and the only way to know that you do – in fact – have a stick up your ass in he first place.
I sure hope LuAnn has a shag rug and a special place where she watches herself to know she has a rather large stick up her ass.
There comes a certain point in life when your life is less about ‘you’ and more about others.
Welcome, Alisa. Please stow your carry-on baggage under the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt, and make sure your seat is in the upright position. If you are seated next to an emergency exit, please read carefully the special instructions card located by your seat. If you do not wish to perform the functions described in the event of an emergency, please ask a flight attendant to reseat you. (Looks around) “Um, flight attendant?”
Kind of amazing to me, now, that my baggage can fit into an overhead bin or under the seat in front of me; reduced to carry-on size. I suppose that leaves more room for another’s baggage.
My sixteen-year old brother is visiting for the summer. When I told a co-worker this last week his reply was, “Wow, you’re gutsy. Did someone give you that experience when you were his age?” It occurred to me…yes, someone did but I was eighteen and though lost I at least had a compass. I’ve got one summer to help my brother locate a navigation system or else he’ll likely never find his way.
Step 1: I pull out my baggage, stowed under the seat in front of me, and rummage through the contents that are left inside – the neatly folded and organized life that took a lot of work to keep the things I like and accept that which I could not change – to show him my own compass. Maybe he won’t be impressed, but at least he’ll see that the overwhelmed is truly the most underwhelmed – unorganized and rattled beings that can’t see the path for the trees.
Step 2: I’ll let him hold it – try it on for size – and see if that glimpse of security prompts him to find one of his own, or if he’s too far down the unbridled road. I suspect, like most people his age, he’s got a taste of the adrenaline from entering a one way the wrong way to test his foolish theories. The stakes are high and to control that is power in an otherwise powerless world; gotta take control of something so might as well own your own demise.
Step 3: The millennials just don’t understand the value of a compass, do they? C’mon gen-x’ers take a break from your innovating in the modern world and buy ’em a GPS (afterall, you likely invented it). At every wrong turn you’ll know that it will ‘calculate back on track’ and they’ll truly never be lost in unfamiliar territory. But, remember the one important thing…even in the deepest of places a GPS falls off-the-grid, so I hope you’ve at least passed the importance of your compass onto them for safe keeping in these times of need.
Personally, he’s a horrible father for having a video camera in his face while driving!
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