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| {{a|glossary|[[File:isda ninja.png|450px|center]]}} | | {{a|glossary|[[File:isda ninja.png|450px|center]]}} |
| | [[File:Molesworth.png|250px|frameless|left]] |
| An old lag, back in the jug agane for another term or lat, algy, geom, hist, bulles cads oiks, skool dog, skool sossages and MASTERS everywhere chiz chiz chiz. [[Jolly Contrarian|Self portrait]] to the right. | | An old lag, back in the jug agane for another term or lat, algy, geom, hist, bulles cads oiks, skool dog, skool sossages and MASTERS everywhere chiz chiz chiz. [[Jolly Contrarian|Self portrait]] to the right. |
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| [[ISDA ninja]]s have a wealth of esoteric knowledge quite useless to them in any other environment than the one in which they pass their careers — waste deep in the septic sludge of {{isdaprov|Additional Termination Event}}s, engaged in trench warfare with souls that, deep down, we recognise as like-minded, but still arrayed in slit trenches a few score yards away from us lobbing unexploded covenants at us by day and night. | | [[ISDA ninja]]s have a wealth of esoteric knowledge quite useless to them in any other environment than the one in which they pass their careers — waste deep in the septic sludge of {{isdaprov|Additional Termination Event}}s, engaged in trench warfare with souls that, deep down, we recognise as like-minded, but still arrayed in slit trenches a few score yards away from us lobbing unexploded covenants at us by day and night. |
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| There is war poetry that they write about their enemies who might otherwise be friends, share a drink | | There is war poetry that they write about their enemies who might otherwise be friends, share a drink, see sunsets glow and so on. |
| | | {{strange negotiation}} |
| ===Strange Negotiation===
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| ''With profound apologies to Wilfred Owen. Honestly, I am really sorry to do this to you.''<br>
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| It seemed that from that [[conference call]] I [[Escalate|escalated]] <br>
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| Some profound dull [[representation]], long since [[Waiver|waived]] <br>
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| Through [[credit]] whose dyspeptic permission granted <br>
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| Though [[caveat|caveated]] teeth, a route to our sweet resolve. <br>
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| Yet also there [[Encumbrance|encumbered]] assets groaned, <br>
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| Too [[Fixed charge|fix’d in charge]] or [[pledge]] to be bestirred. <br>
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| Then, as I probed the [[lien]]s, one sprang up, and cried<br>
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| With piteous [[recharacterisation]] in his eyes, <br>
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| Lifting distressèd claims, as if to clarify. <br>
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| And by his [[carve-out]], I knew that sullen hall,— <br>
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| [[Without limitation|Absent limit]], [[For the avoidance of doubt|all doubt avoided]]: we stood in Hell. <br>
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| With a thousand fears that [[Negotiator|doc-jockey]]’s face was grained; <br>
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| Yet, no {{isdaprov|Representations}} (to which Part {{isdaprov|3(c)}} applied) <br>
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| Reached there from where our career aspirations died, <br>
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| And no [[covenant]]s thumped, in extent or scope inordinate. <br>
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| “Strange friend,” I said, “I see no incoming [[Credit Support - ISDA Provision|Credit Support]].” <br>
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| “None,” said that other, “save this [[Perfect|unperfectèd]] [[charge]], <br>
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| The hopelessness. Whatever [[Beneficial ownership|beneficial interest]] I hold, <br>
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| Was my [[legal title]] to this asset [[flawed]]?<br>
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| Were’st thou by my [[tax department]]’s explanation [[bored]]? <br>
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| Which lies not calm in thought, nor deed, nor [[tedious]] phrase,<br>
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| But mocks the steady drifting of one’s gaze, <br>
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| Toward the floor — the wall — the sky — <br>
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| The whole [[Entropy|entropic]] ''all''.
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| And if I grieve, I grieve for wasted words: <br>
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| Cast carelessly about, in clumps and hanks of twisted [[flannel]]
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| For by my glee might many men have laughed,<br>
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| At my triple negatives weeping something had been left, <br>
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| Which must die now. I mean the truth untold, <br>
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| The pity of war, the pity war distilled. <br>
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| Now men will go content with what we spoiled.<br>
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| Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled. <br>
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| They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress. <br>
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| None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress. <br>
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| Courage was mine, and I had mystery; <br>
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| Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: <br>
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| To miss the march of this retreating world <br>
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| Into vain citadels that are not walled. <br>
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| Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels, <br>
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| I would go up and wash them from sweet wells, <br>
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| Even with truths that lie too deep for taint. <br>
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| I would have poured my spirit without stint <br>
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| But not through wounds; not on the cess of war. <br>
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| Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were. <br>
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| “I am the enemy you killed, my friend. <br>
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| I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned <br>
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| Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed. <br>
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| I parried; but my hands were loath and cold. <br>
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| Let us sleep now. . . .”<br>
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