August 7, 2001

  •  The Temple



    An entrance view of the Temple which nurtures the greatest myth of our age, Money.


    If you pass up the stairs to the left, you will immediately encounter a series of original prints of Andy Warhol:



    Once deep into the womb of the Virtual Vault, expect anything. 


    From a poster in an employee's office:


    Crime is a logical extension of the sort of behavior that is often considered perfectly repectable in legitimate business.


    From a handbook for managers, High-Velocity Culture Change , that I found laying  as reading material in the men's restroom:


    If it does so happen that you hang on to all of your people, it's either a near miracle or a sure sign of bad management.


    and


    Ultimately culture change lives or dies by dollar signs.  It's a language everyone understands.


    and


    ...you can develop a reputation as public enemy #1 and still prevail if you have a good supporting cast.


    and


    Start out fast and keep trying to pick up speed.  Leave skid marks.


    and


    You need radicals. Rebels. Revolutionaries.  People who howl at the moon.


    From a Economic Commentary by Jerry Jordan, president of the Federal Reserve Bank of Cleveland:


    From a historical perspective, the age of capitalism is now at most a teenager, and it is already evident that the power of unfettered markets to generate wealth is building momentum.


    and


     Uncertain and unforeseeable events affect both workers and businesses. There is no escape.


    and


    ...the role of the state is to nurture an economic garden—cultivating the soil to allow growth to take root, warding off pests that seek to feed off the budding crop, and keeping weeds from suffocating the plant before it achieves its potential.


    I am moved. Inspired. And so lend my voice devotionally to...


    The Dollar Prayer


    Should have known long ago
    That Economic Man
    Would prove the rest of "high culture"
    To be only a sham.


    So let the money tree grow! 
    Though capitalism's a punk,
    Let's howl at the moon
    and on hops of dollars get drunk. 


    Let's squeal our tires
    And leave skid marks of cash
    As we race to tomorrow
    To avoid today's crash.


    Though our method is madness,
    (And though crime still doesn't pay)
    May the Guardians of the Big Buck
    Lead and show us the way...


    Time to nurture the cash crop--water it
    With blood, sweat, and tears,
    And may we munch on legal tender
    For the rest of our years!

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