Economics in Book of Mormon Jib (specifically, Alma)

And it came to pass, that as I read the Wall Street Journal, mine eyes stumbled upon an article entitled “Fed Officials Split on Best Path”. As I pondered these things in my mind and in my heart, I came to understand better the proceedings and secret combinations of the Federal Reserve. The deeds and revelations of the Federal Reserve seen by Kearl have come to fulfillment in this, our day.

Judges of the Federal Reserve, in the ninety and sixth year of the reign of the judges, decided to give gain to the economy in measure of 60 trillion senines (one senine of gold = one measure of barley = 24 cups of barley ≈ 10 lb barley = 17 U.S. dollars of barley ≈ 60 trillion measures of barley per one trillion U.S. dollars [see Alma 11:7]). The judges also saw it fit to pervert the federal-funds rate by using manner of force to keep it “in a range near zero”. Both of these actions reap consequence of increasing the U.S. economy’s money supply, thereby decreasing the interest rates in the investment market, manifesting an increase in consumption and aggregate demand.

The adversary of this seemingly strait and narrow path to economic stability are that of unemployment woes, “’fragile and unsettled’ financial markets, falling foreign economic activity, and falling wealth. The people of which this wrath is incurred upon, yea, that wrath that desires to bring them down into utter destruction, live in fear of spending. Therefore, the people of this economy save according to the distrust against weak markets and the decreased reception of their wages according to their employ, nay, even their lack of employment. The judges have demonstrated much faith in the flattening out of both the falling Gross Domestic Product and the rising unemployment rate, that they may keep safe their economy and its people and encourage such to be more vain in their spending.

Economics in New Testament Jib

And it came to pass, that as I read the Wall Street Journal, mine eyes stumbled upon an article entitled “Worry Grows Over Insurers As Ratings Slip”. As I pondered these things in my mind and in my heart, I came to understand better the things of which were said in the teachings of Kearl (thusly, the book of Kearl).

He spoke a great many things about adverse-selection and moral hazard in the place which is called “risk market”. As the fruits of our generation grow sour like unto those of a grafted fig tree, the inhabitants thereof partake of the blessings of their insurance agencies. As they more intensely use the blessings and benefits (moral hazard) of this, their mortal insurers, the more strain becomes these benefactors. Clearly, because the blessings of said benefactors cannot wholly grant remission of their foolishness (their foolishness not distinct of the man who built his house upon the sand), this generation of fools will not be able to obtain the highest degree of economic stability. Also, as the people of the land of the United States are divided into foolish and wise, we can obtain vision that when a set premium is required of them and the administrators of blessings cannot return single fold that which was expected, “people will get a much-smaller benefit” (adverse-selection) - This resulting in the same consequence of prohibition of the highest degree of economic stability.

Not only has this generation decided to partake of the vain blessings of their mortal insurers, these insurers have been dragged down to the depths of misery and endless woe on accounts of investments into mortgage-backed securities, which were “hammered in the housing meltdown.” Though many of these insurance agencies have left the temporal world, they have left behind wills granting their partakers access to those agencies which are strong and will live on in this world. 

Terrible Two

So, today was my second day at BYU.

The first day went rather well, despite the fact that I don't know anybody on campus and all of the slipping in the snow.

Today was, well, the polar (figurative and literal) opposite.

7:45 a.m. - Wake up. I get ready to go in exactly one hour, as planned, except... I didn't floss. To some, this may seem a trite matter, but to Charli, it's life or death. Flossing is my obsession. Flossing calms my mind and makes my teeth feel sparkling. Flossing is a big deal. But alas, I had to leave and I do NOT floss on the go (especially in the wintery chill of Provo). This was the first sign of day [terrible] two.

8:50 a.m. - Breakfast at the Cannon Center. Quick bowl of Frosted Flakes, a cup of POG, and I'm outie. Yes, I sat alone. Mock, you Philistines, mock.

9:20 a.m. - Arrive at Economics. Economic Principles and Problems takes place in the JSB auditorium. Far far away, in the land of Karl Maeser and Heber J. Grant, where the frozen underlying cement tundra resides; where you walk into a couple other building before you find the right one. Where your toes nearly fall off because you've trekked through quite a bit of snow to get there and slipped multiple times doing so.

Sitting alone (once again and forever more, as far as this note goes), I take the aisle seat. People walk past me, taking their seats, over here and over there. Three seats away I recognize some guy that had already seen me sitting in my little lonely existence at breakfast. I think "Well, great. He thinks I'm some sort of freak. That maybe I have some ridiculous disease or disorder. Maybe Mad Cow?" I continue to get out my note taking supplies, and realize that the aisle seat is a left-handed chair. While I cut with my left hand, I'm pretty useless in the writing department of LH. So I move a seat to my right. Thinks-Charli-is-Crazy kid shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Class begins. A girl rushes in and aggressively plops into the seat next to me. Now I’m sandwiched between Thinks-Charli-is-Crazy and Aggressive Plopper. The teacher begins to rattle on about the course. He tittles about this, he tattles about that. Oh, and did I forget to mention? He’s considered one of the harder economics teachers at BYU. And he KNOWS it. Probably RELISHES in the fact. “Just know economics and you’ll be fine.” Ha. Okay… He tricks some students into buying a dollar for two dollars and fifty five cents, then we depart.

10:50 a.m. – Lost in the wilderness. Charli is walking around campus, trying to think where she should go. She tried the bookstore: closed. Devotional. Okay, I’ve heard about that… But where is it? I dunno! And you try and follow the ants to the anthill, but, lo!, not all of the ants are going to the anthill! Some are food gatherers, others off to rest. I become frantic. Roommate, do you know where it is? Can’t remember the building. Boy listening to my telephone conversation: Go to the Marriott [he can help (reference Anastasia WB)]. Okay! Marriott, here I come! What’s the best route? Doesn’t matter, you’ll slip in snow any way you go! I get there, I sit in the nose bleeds. We’re talking third row from the top. People are looking at me funny. Why do you look at me funny, you citizens of BYU? Though I am ignorant to the workings of the town, it does not make me the town fool or jester! Devotional begins and ends without a word spoken to me. Rush out.

11:55 a.m. – Lunchy lunch. I wait in a very large line at the Cannon Center. Entrance granted. By this time, I’ve started the official Charli Pity Party. I do the wrong thing. I EAT. I don’t go for a salad, or even the pasta (partially because I detest marinara and it happened to be all they were using today… in EVERYTHING). I get a cheeseburger because it sounds good. Then I grab a donut. And a cookie. Can I get any more cowish? Nay. (Which is actually a horse, but beside the point.) I eat the WHOLE cheeseburger, most of the donut and half of the cookie. For those of you that know me well enough, it’s sort of a BIG deal. I don’t do that very often.

12:30 p.m. – Back to the batcave. I get in and immediately strip myself of backpack and jacket. I run out to go to the bathroom, which is closed so they can clean. Grrrrrreat. I need to go to the bathroom and it’s closed and I have to walk all the way back to… No! I.. Uh! What! Door locked behind me… No keys… No phone… No backpack… NO JACKET. Bang head against door. So, I’m stressed beyond belief because I have a class in thirty minutes, I don’t know where to go and I REALLY have need for a porcelain throne (compliments to Nick). I run down to second floor bathroom. Empty bladder: check. Back up to third floor (where my dorm is) to see if roommate had returned: Negatory. Down to first floor to see if anyone is in the office because RA is in class: Negatory times two. Girl-through-Window smiles. Haha! Victimized! Can I please please please use your cellular device because I’m at the point in my day where if I don’t laugh I’ll cry? Cellular: check. Mommy? Me. What do I do? Go to the Cannon Center desk. Brilliant! Thank you so much Mommy dearest. Thank you so much Girl-through-Window! Run to Cannon Center without jacket! I need a key, please! Okay, do you have your ID card? Uh… Locked in room. Hmmm… (Charli fidgets in anticipation) I guess I can just pull it up. PLEASE! Do do do while she takes all of the necessary procedures. Key! Key! Run back to dorm! Key works! I’m in! Ten minutes to make it to class! Backpack, keys, jacket, run! Drop key of at Cannon Center! Run up hill!

1:05 p.m. – I walk into some random building. Which, I had no idea. I hastily ask some girls where I’m at, they say it’s the right one. Good deal. Now I have to find the right set of stairs because BYU does not make it easy for you. Everything is a puzzle because they think that now you’re in college you need to think in EVERYTHING that you do. Plus, they’re preventing Alzheimer’s. I finally locate the right set of stairs. I run into Girl-through-Window, she says we’re soul mates because we kept running into each other, but in a funny way, not creepy. I find the class, but I’m a little late, so I take an available seat between Senior-Citizen-Student and Red-Haired-Bandit. The teacher has one of THE most annoying accents in the entire world. I don’t know WHAT it is. Sounds kind of like Queens mixed with Georgia mixed with Texas mixed with Braying Donkey. Class ends after many snide remarks from Senior-Citizen-Student. Runs into Boy-Who-Wants-Nose-Flicked and goes back to dorm.

2:00 p.m. – I missed a call from Manager Joe at Discount Tire. Message says: Come on in and get your snow tires. I say: Peachy keen, cool rad dude. Out to my car I go. Covered in a foot of snow. Surrounded by a foot of snow. I don’t know anything about snow! I don’t! Cold! Oh well. I finally get all of the snow off (as per Jack’s request/advice), stomp the area of trajectory down so I can get out and I’m on my way. I call Manager Joe and tell him I’m on my way. He gives me bad directions and I end up at the Orem location. Bah! Nice-Orem-Dudes give me directions to his store, which make WAY more sense, and I arrive. I wait for an hour and a half. One of the Not-So-Rad-Provo-Dudes comes back and tells me they’ve ruined three of my regular tires getting them off, so they’ll have to order them and they’ll call when the get them in. Fine. F. I. N. E. Great. I’m going home now. Luckily, the snow tires work fabulously.

5:30 p.m. – After getting back and picking up my backpack for my next class, I decide I have just enough time to eat. My feet are frozen, so I hastily change into a new pair of socks and boots. Bustle bustle to the Cannon Center. I grab a tray, I grab utensils. I’m on the hunt and I have a time limit. More marinara sauce makes its appearance, so I grab this plate with chicken covered in some sort of sauce, beans (ew. But it wasn’t fraternizing with the chicken, so we’re okay), and corn. I know I’ll only eat a little of the chicken. Salad time. There I am, romaine lettuce sprinkled with croutons, prepared to be dressed. I reach in for the ranch. My tray flips. Salad bowl flips in slow motion towards the ground, beans fly, sauce splatters (for some reason the corn stayed in place… makes me kinda wary of ever eating their corn). The audience gasps. Someone shouts “It’s okay!” at my frenzied look. Fellow-Salad-Dresser immediately helps. I run for napkins. I thank Fellow-Salad-Dresser five zillion times and I restart the food gathering process. I eat alone again. The stress comes back. I eat the whole salad and a rice krispie treat. I sit and clean my beautiful scarf that has been soiled by sauce and the evil of baked beans. I get up and leave.

I go to class and nothing to interesting really happens and I just got back and thought I should tell you all. There were a million other little things that happened, but I don’t want to detail. You enjoy my discourse while I go watch Dawson’s Creek. Adieu. 

What the shiz is going on?!

So, I deleted the old posts (talk about embarrassing discrepancies). I would now like to introduce to you the ones I thought were funny or just plain crazy! Enjoy!