This is nym's Typepad Profile.
Join Typepad and start following nym's activity
Join Now!
Already a member? Sign In
nym
Recent Activity
Suggest you read Rowe's Goldpunk link. I gotta like a guy this honest: And lets set aside the question of communications. I think I would say that it's the public expectation we want to target. Not sure though. I thought about this once, and came to a conclusion, but I have forgotten what it was. Posted by: Nick Rowe
Toggle Commented Sep 7, 2012 on Links for 09-06-2012 at Economist's View
1 reply
Wow, Tim, I don't usually read your long rambles, but this is a really good one. How does the attempt at a soft landing after 2000 compare to the periods you review here? I see from your graph of the labor share that there was bubble in mid decade, but I don't remember an inflation problem outside of housing, which indicated to me that cpi was underestimating housing.
Toggle Commented Aug 22, 2012 on Self-Fulfilling Prophecies at Tim Duy's Fed Watch
1 reply
Actually, it does. Average for April in SF is 1.4 inch. May is when rainfall has fallen off the table: nothing significant until October.
1 reply
Dissonance: you're out of work and your party tells you that you lack the discipline to look for it, but at least they are against abortion and a healthcare mandate.
1 reply
Cowen and Rodrik remarks are from Aug 2007: isn't it time to re-evaluate? I nominate Salmon.
1 reply
You'll need a radiant heater or unshaded south-facing wall to grow tomatoes in Berkeley.
1 reply
Good word, "shambles." Another is "slouches." The Second Coming by W.B. Yeats Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
1 reply
nym is now following J. Bradford DeLong
Feb 12, 2010