Rescue me!

Dear you,

Cats find you.  That is what I hear.  And I have been found once again. Several weeks ago, a young female feline appeared in the parking lot.  She approached owners and guests without fear and was clearly socialized.  And hungry.  This little gal had been abandoned and wanted love, a home.  Of course, I took on the job of feeding her, aiming for clever placement of food and water bowls that management wouldn't discover.  Well, after a day or two, those bowls disappeared and I had to try something else.  I moved the feeding station up by my door on the top floor and placed a rag rug down so she would have a soft place to sleep.  This was a haven, precarious at best, but better than having her roam this big complex and possibly running into cat enemies, notably the human kind.

Four weeks later, she grew bigger.  Her color changed from a deep grey to a mocha brown.  Her green eyes became gold.  And then the hoards of summer season visitors started appearing.  As usual, these folks were traveling in packs, noisy, anxiety-ridden packs.  Little girl cat had to come in and escape stress. So, welcome home, Coco Ballerina.  Isn't she something? Isn't she lovely?

One week in to my second experience of living with a cat, the initial panic of "god, I am trapped; I can't take off and escape" faded, I am glad she is here.  Just like the she-cat who adopted me before her, Coco is a trip. She's messy and really bad at litter box protocol, but she's also a pleasure.  A treasure. Goddess Bastet, here I go again.

I wonder who abandoned this kitty.  I wonder what was going on in his/her life that motivated the abandonment.  Maybe they just couldn't take on the cost or the care and simply hoped for the best.  "Good luck, little one.  It's a big condo complex.  Someone here will love you."  That someone is me.

That's the way of the world, isn't it?  It has to be us, not somebody else. Even if our personal motto is Avoid Domestic Entanglements, random events will challenge our devotion to singularity.

And so, I am involved again.

Congratulations, Coco.

Congratulations, Joyce. 

Mint the magical coin!

Dear you,

Florida legislative session 2023.  Hell. A columnist for Tampa Bay Times (Stephanie Hayes) opines that bullies from 1980's movies are running Florida.  Think about the most abusive characters played by James Spader in that era.  And the "Heathers" sticking together to enforce their views on everything as, well, the law.  The session was a massive success in terms of restricting or criminalizing individual and even corporate liberty.  But hey, some people point out, there were some good results too.  Like, you know, establishing permanent tax breaks for children's diapers and adult incontinence products. Please.  Really?  Things are so messed up here we are celebrating tax breaks related to excrement.  

And things are pretty messed up outside our sunshine state borders.  Pick your topic.  How about the possibility of us defaulting on our debt?  I am very freaked out about this. I look for ideas, solutions, something never done before.  I am one of the weirdos who think the minting of a magical trillion-something dollar coin would be great!  I hear this is idiocy, but I am not alone.  I discovered I am part of a group called Coinistas.  We even have a hashtag, #MintTheCoin.  

Inspired by Warren Mosler, creator of Modern Monetary Theory, Carlos Mucha, came up with the magic coin idea back in 2010 noting Congress has already delegated to the Treasury all the "seignorage power authority it needs to mint a $1 trillion coin." See a recent vox.com interview with Dylan Matthews where Mucha added two other options:

"Treasury can issue perpetual consols [debts that never mature and continue paying interest forever until the government buys them back]. Since there’s no guarantee to repay the principal, it doesn’t add to public debt (which measures amount of guaranteed principal). The Fed can just donate the Treasury securities it holds back to Treasury.  Of the three [the above two and the coin], issuing consols is probably the least disruptive. Treasury can announce it is issuing T-bonds “payable at the pleasure of the United States” instead of a fixed term and can hold an auction later the same day. So that’s what I’d expect to see if Treasury runs out of money."

Perpetual consols and donating Treasury securities back to the Treasury.  This sounds really circular and made-up.  The whole financial game itself feels circular and made-up.  At least the coin option is concrete, like bartering with your landlord if rent is late.  "I can give you this nicely broken-in Barcolounger and whatever I have in the fridge instead of cash. And there is a lot of good beer in that fridge!"  That makes sense.  I never dealt with a landlord who accepted perpetual consols.

I say just #MintTheCoin.  Shut down the Republican intimidation machine.  Magically!

Love,

Fiscally risky Joyce

Comic Relief

 Dear you,

Tomorrow is the coronation of England/UK's new king. This monarchial ritual has been going on for centuries, but now the common folk get to watch the show.  For the love of god, I wish my sense of humor or appetite for pointless drama was operating properly so I could just enjoy the event like most normal people.  But I am way too de-centered and de-humored (I know, not a word).  Flip a coin. My daily mood is "either-or". Tails, I roll with the crazy; heads, I freeze and pout.  I don't know how the coin will land tomorrow, but I intend to tune in to the coronation even though:

1. Our banking system appears to be in peril.

2. Another random cat has appeared in my zone and I can't get the highly lauded 'rescue' people here to help me help her.

3. Someone out there, according to a notice in my mailbox last week, is trying to steal my identity (again) for employment purposes.

4. My life-line NPR radio station vanished from the airwaves for a couple of days (it reappeared yesterday) and I feared they had been axed by my not coronated governor-king DeSantis.

5. The debt ceiling!  The debt ceiling!  The debt ceiling!

6. Every day, another shooting.

Let it go, right? Just tune in and enjoy the show. My dramas are my dramas and everybody is going through something.  But that's not the real issue here.  The issue is a question of relevance; why are we celebrating monarchy in 2023?  Those jewels in that crown alone could pay for a squadron of fighter jets for Ukraine.  Apparently a "cocky" Brit agrees with my discontent:

Thank you, New York Post, for sharing this photo.  A penis mowed into a castle's great lawn.  A perfectly childish and absolutely HILARIOUS editorial comment about our obsession with monarchy.  Seeing this, I laughed for the first time today.

I suggest you too seek comic relief whenever, wherever you can find it.  Even if it is featured in a Rupert Murdock tabloid.

Carry on!

Joyce