And I am not even sure what it is exactly that I am supposed to be doing.
Anyone's guess is as good as mine, but by the look of it, it would appear that I am expected to partake into some sort of a $@#* neo-libertarian ghost dance to help revive the waning spirit of Milton Friedman or some nonsense of the sort. Why would anyone want to do that? Don't ask me, ask Ben. It's all quite doolally. I think Lockwood put him up to it [link]. Unless it was Tom [link].
I have been told that particularly elaborate rain dances could inspire the participants, as well as audience, to partake in unusual and extreme acts of worship. But I confess my ignorance as to what kind of ritual the worshipers of the "invisible hand" of the market require to appease their god when "the hand" is upset.
I don't know. Perhaps this will get me off the hook for now:
I am not sure how that song holds in terms of "work ethic," but the legend of the tribe holds that the trickle-down rain summoned by the tribe contains the spirits of past Republican chiefs (like Ronald Reagan), who, when falling, battle evil market spirits in the transitional plane between our reality and the ethereal plane of Libertarian dogmas.
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The Wulfshead club is a well known watering hole for all the strange and unusual people in the world. And for those just passing through... No one's quite sure exactly where the club itself is located, and the very anonymous management likes to keep it that way, but there are authorized access points at locations all around the world, if you know where to look. And if your name's on the approved list. ~Simon Green, Daemons Are Forever
