Once upon a time, there was a psychic blackbird who lived near a very twisty old yew tree. Among other things she'd found out that determinism was false, when GOOG was going to break USD500, and where the local sparrowhawk hung out. Being psychic was sometimes very good indeed, but mainly it sucked, which is pretty much what you'd expect.
She ran a little fortune-telling booth under the yew tree, where her customers could enjoy the arils while they waited. One day, a giraffe came to see her. He was a very brainy theoretical physicist with diffuse ambitions and many failed love affairs. They looked at one another, brown-eyedly.
The blackbird saw that she was going to fall wildly in love with him. But that was all she saw. This is why being a psychic sucks.
The technology stuff is overbought, she said. Go for commodities.
Moral: futures are for the stockmarket.
Reaching for the sky
4 hours ago