Reviews for Modern economics as a form of magic

The average rating for Modern economics as a form of magic based on 2 reviews is 3 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2018-02-20 00:00:00 Fred Plaskin cool cool cool book, easy read & font is weird typography thing w/ titles drawn in what appears to be my grampas 1987 copy of Dazzle Draw. such sick ghosts, there's one with a 3 foot long nose, one without legs that grabs on your back and lives with his mom, one made out of metal, ghost of modernity, ghost of christ, every ghost coming together for big party To my horror, I found myself sitting on the skeleton head of a man with many small snakes surrounding me. All were hissing horribly in unison with that big one on which the ghost sat. All these small snakes were serving the one-legged ghost, following him wherever he went and adoring him as though he were their lord. I took one of the nine grains of alligator pepper, and it turned me into a heavy rain which quenched that fire at once. Then this crocodile-man turned into a big snake about fourteen feet long and about seven feet in diameter. ^^^ thinkin now its like if ulililia made a book ghosts Then I began to curse him in the name of the god of iron. When his mother heard my curse, she came out and asked why I was doing that. After I told her the reason, she returned to the house without blaming her son because she was pleased with what her son had told me. As we travelled down Devil Street, we noticed that every house was numbered. We went past sixteen houses before we came to Devil's palace, the number of which was 986666656 D. We entered the palace and asked for "His Majesty the King of Hell." On the Judgement Day I am very sure that fire will be my food and drink, and I shall be bathing in fire as a man bathes in a big river. I am certain that I shall never come out of the fire. Though I shall not die, I shall not burn into ashes! Ah, my followers, that is the day that you and I shall wear fire like clothes, but I alone shall wear the crown of fire that big day because I am your father and king! Everything I am telling you now is true and nothing can change it. Our Fifth Day in the Fifth Town We visited all the Devil's offices the following day. ... Then we visited the Labor Headquarters and met with the Commissioner of Labor in his office. His name was called Death and he was the Devil's cousin. Next we went to the Office of the Exchange Manager whose name was Blasphemer. The Devil suggested that the person should use two envelopes. He or she should write his or her name and address on the back of one of the two envelopes, and the correct postage stamp should be affixed to it. After that, the second envelope should be addressed as follows: To His Majesty the King of Hell 17896 Woe Lane 5th Town of the Ghosts Bush of the Ghosts HELL After addressing the second envelope, the person should put his or her letter inside it, gum it well, and post it to hell. Later we learned that the name of that town was "Dumb Town." ^^^ made me laff even tho its referring to town where no one can speak except for 1 minute of every year

Review # 2 was written on 2015-09-21 00:00:00 Johnny Mastri Dear Mr. Amos Tutuola, When I was a small boy I was told the story of a perfect gentleman who went to a market and returned from it with a girl that followed him. As he went back home, he kept giving back the pieces of him that were borrowed, so that by the time he got to his home, he was only a skull. And the girl deceived by his beauty now only a slave. Well, Mr. Tatuola, thank you very much for taking me through many indescribable adventures and many incomprehensible mysteries. I enjoyed them well, as a child should. But they reminded me of those days, when I was a small boy. Of the time I got scared when the lamp was taken away, and my fear disappeared when the light was restored. Of when I did not know how to be afraid when there was light, and when there were people around me. Now, I remember those days and I wonder why fear will be here beside me even when the sun shines, and people around me smile. Those days I was only worried about tomorrow if I hadn't talked my homework, because mother would scold me and my teacher would cane me. Mother won't ask me now whether I have done what I have to do, she'll ask me where is the result of what I have done. If I meet her by the road, - my childhood teacher, she'll be looking to see whether I have a suit and a tie, whether my smile says that I have seen and conquered. And my fear may be that she will only wave, and ask what art has done to me. Not what I have done to art. I want to go back to one of those days, when laughter was laughter and not the superfluous hiding of what lies beneath. When stories genuinely scared or made me genuinely happy, whether the next day I had forgotten them or not. When I knew that tomorrow will come, and apart from its simple fears, it will come and go. When I knew there was a man up there, beyond the infinite skies, that said son, I hold the universe together, in perfection, and if you only believe this, everything will unfold as it should. I want a tiny bit of those days. And to meet men like you -in person or in the pages of a book, -who will leave a legacy, who craft stories that will once in a while, remind us of what it was to be a child. For looking beyond your limited self and leaving us this enduring story, may immortality always be your share. Faithfully, Reader in crisis, etc.