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17th Earl of Oxenford. Failed aristocrat. Number go down storytelling. I’m less useful than a prophet. I’m a poet. Bitcoin.

GM. Here’s some Rudyard Kipling to start the day. Drink some #coffeechain and enjoy something from a different time.

The King and the Sea

After His Realms and States were moved

To bare their hearts to the King they loved,

Tendering themselves in homage and devotion,

The Tide Wave up the Channel spoke

To all those eager, exultant folk:—

“Hear now what Man was given you by the Ocean!

“There was no thought of Orb or Crown

When the single wooden chest went down

To the steering-flat, and the careless Gunroom haled him

To learn by ancient and bitter use,

How neither Favour nor Excuse,

Nor aught save his sheer self henceforth availed him.

“There was no talk of birth or rank

By the slung hammock or scrubbed plank

In the steel-grated prisons where I cast him;

But niggard hours and a narrow space

For rest—and the naked light on his face—

While the ship’s traffic flowed, unceasing, past him.

“Thus I schooled him to go and come—

To speak at the word—at a sign be dumb;

To stand to his task, not seeking others to aid him;

To share in honour what praise might fall

For the task accomplished, and—over all—

To swallow rebuke in silence. Thus I made him.

“I loosened every mood of the deep

On him, a child and sick for sleep,

Through the long watches that no time can measure,

When I drove him, deafened and choked and blind,

At the wave-tops cut and spun by the wind;

Lashing him, face and eyes, with my displeasure.

“I opened him all the guile of the seas—

Their sullen, swift-sprung treacheries,

To be fought, or forestalled, or dared, or dismissed with laughter.

I showed him Worth by Folly concealed,

And the flaw in the soul that a chance revealed

(Lessons remembered—to bear fruit thereafter).

“I dealt him Power beneath his hand,

For trial and proof, with his first Command—

Himself alone, and no man to gainsay him.

On him the End, the Means, and the Word,

And the harsher judgment if he erred,

And—outboard—Ocean waiting to betray him.

“Wherefore, when he came to be crowned,

Strength in Duty held him bound,

So that not Power misled nor ease ensnared him

Who had spared himself no more than his seas had spared him!”

* * * *

After His Lieges, in all His Lands,

Had laid their hands between His hands,

And His ships thundered service and devotion,

The Tide Wave, ranging the Planet, spoke

On all Our foreshores as it broke:—

“Know now what Man I gave you—I, the Ocean!”

Is everyone actually dooming at this price range?

My brother and I want to start a meadery and change the drinking culture of Oklahoma.

Pattern recognizers hardest hit.

Believing in a final judgment helps to keep men from going on crusades for things that are outside of their control.

As a delivery driver, I’ve learned that ETAs are usually empty promises.

First post is a banger. Bullish. nostr:note1a8pqj87fwtasfp4qv9ev6j36navkhcvkp28z852d86g4lfpv5nrsyg80sw

Have you read the creature from Jekyll Island?

Ian Carroll has done tons of research on central banking and should consider printing it in book form.

He voiced much of my childhood.

I’m going to say that keeping and ignoring #ReplyGuy is the ultimate Chad move.

GM. Here’s Kipling’s London Town to start your morning:

There's no God in London,

Weary, wicked London.

For, look you, I've lost my friend—

Lost her in London.

My heart's best friend

Is astray in London,

Your terrible London!

You've miles of granite streets

In stony London;

And millions toiling in London,

Crowded London;

But I cannot find my friend,

My poor lost friend,

For the tumult and traffic of London,

Pitiless London!

It's cruel seeking in London,

Boundless London,

For a face that'll never come—

For the face of a friend,

The face of my lost, lost friend,

Lost in London.

There's no God in London,

Your terrible London!

#nostr #apoemaday #coffee #coffeechain #londontown

Economic power precedes political power. This would require a price where everyone gets gfs and then makes them into wives. The future ideal politician is a male Bitcoiner with a family to protect.