Oh crap. We’ve been so preoccupied with Iraq, Iran, the sodden Texas twostep of bushboots on what was left of American nonculture since the abyssal terminus of the millennium, we forgot to watch the buck.  It forgot where it’s supposed to stop, and has crashed off the edge of the earth, somewhere between here and Beijing. 

 

All That Arises directs us to make a take a glance back at Sodom, as the dollar crashes.  (Erik, I’m forgetting to let my syntax breathe again.) 

 

When we’re not the world’s cop, its rancher, its manufacturer, and now not its banker, what’s left?  If you think Jack Daniels can prop up our economy, cool.  We can be the world’s distiller.  In the mean time, for my readers who like the more obscure allusions I can concoct, here:  Euro a while, and when you stop, I’ll spell ya.