• Ron Throop

Do You Know How to Play the FOREX Market With Taino Fingers?

Painting title: Dow Jones Industrial Average, December 31, 1985 2018. Acrylic on canvas, 36 x 37"

I know what I am going to do with my "stimulus" check, the hush money sent to keep Walmart and China enthroned, and fatty toking Elon Musk extracting cobalt with carcinogenic child labor. I have been practicing on the foreign exchange market for two weeks. There are companies that offer a free download of a simulator to lure greedy neophytes like me into the workings of a sick society. 6 trillion dollars worth of currencies bartered in a single day! Just imagine all those shells lying there for the taking of beautiful wampum belts-to-be. And open to anyone with money to lose, homeless beggars and dependent artists being no exception. Ho boy! I want me a piece of that fast action!

Knowing that $1,200 was not going to save our house if my wife lost her job, nor maintain our insurance, car payment, and conversational status among other late middle-aged voracious consumers, I decided to use the payload to pursue a long-time political/philosophical hypothesis of mine all the way to theory fruition.

I shall prove that money acquisition is the greatest distraction to human fulfillment.

But you already suspected that! It's what we tell our children at the dinner table, when there is dinner on it, and a bed to sleep in tonight, and a tomorrow that is expected to be the same as today. "Work at something that brings joy and contentment. That is the secret to happiness and living the good life. The reason why youth must stay sober and study so hard today is to have a choice career path tomorrow."

That is what we tell them, however would say this instead, if we ever told the truth: "Make yourselves marketable in a dog eat dog world". Make money no matter how stultifying the work, so you can get ahead and stay ahead. Basically, no matter how sweet and satisfying your dream life, never quit your day job—it's what holds everything together.

That is, until you get fired because your day job never assumed that life on credit would lose big time to a teeny-tiny microbe.

So I am up and running practice trades today. And this week I am down about $9,500 with the $100,000 spotted me by the company.

Another hypothesis on a personal note: Because I am a delusional artist, I suck at making money make money. If I put a thousand of the stimulus dollars into a real account, I would be down $95. That doesn't seem so bad after two weeks of daily frustration and anxiety over a game of pretend. The social psychologists would be able to site other studies on human lab rats playing games and having to be reminded that it's not real life.

All the graphs and flashing numbers and imaginations of men in suits flying first class has got my stomach turning somersaults. Right now my aussie is $472 down from the greenback. That's $4.72 if playing for real. Ow! Now $5.08. I couldn't collect cans this fast! I also realize while watching the money move out of the corner of my eye, that I cannot write worth a damn. What I call my "element X" (that spirit thing that makes me a delusional artist) feels drained and uninspired. Nor could I paint with the freedom a painter needs to feel if the process is going to be worthwhile—that is maintaining contentment, the only reason for writing and painting that an ancient Taino could comprehend.

Ah, down $628 ($6.28)! What a loser!

Tainos were the biggest losers in the Bahamas. Sat around all day on the beach eating cassava and earthworms. Got naked at night and swam up close to one another in moonlit lagoons. Went to the waterfall to shower, shaved with pelts of the spiny rat, and slept in shaded hammocks in the hot afternoon. Not a penny to move—no AUD, USD, GBP, NZD, JPY, or CAD currency. Just cassava and earthworms galore. When Columbus the FOREX trader arrived with his domineering ass musk he thought what wonderful day traders these people would make. He gave the young boys bells to go into the hills and collect gold. If the bells weren't full by the Lord's day, then the boys had their fingers chopped off.

When most of the fingers were gone, Columbus realized his mistake—that many loser fingers are needed to punch in numbers to grow the abstract wealth of the powerful few. It didn't matter that Columbus was invited to swim in the blue lagoon and take a waterfall shower to loosen the stink cake on his underparts. So he set sail for the island of Cipangu (JPY) and ended up in that socialist paradise of Cuba, where the natives played baseball with a stick and a opossum rolled up into a ball.

Dammit, I was up in the Bahamas, and now way down in Spain (EUR). In honor of Columbus, capitalism, and the Western way, I'm going to let it all ride on the Euro today. All of it. And then go paint a picture. After a month of schizophrenic money losing and Taino-live-a-day art making, I'll collect my research into a little bronze bell and go sit on a smooth rock at the lake and figure it.

The beautiful world is turning, and my aussie (AUD) is +$1.28 and climbing.

No time for silly art conceptions. Let's count the money!