Namesake of Bavarian brothers.
Cotton and coffee to a muddle of mortgage.
Hoarder of art, calamitous fall.
Narcissus-X broods. How is it that mere moneyed marketers may trade in art on so vast a scale? Yet these philistine pretenders amass such arrays of art. And cannot understand what they possess!
And now, how fallen is Lehman! And the art, set free! And yet, not free: for it is to be auctioned. Even as the prison doors swing open, behold! They lead to yet another prison, walled with currency and roofed with securities.
Shall art never be free?
But if art were free, what of the Artist?
Narcissus-X ponders the imponderable, seeks depths beyond the shallow semblance of shimmering complacency as penguins with loon-red eyes stare remorselessly across an infinite gulf. Crystal penguins, shining with obsidian light.