“The pigeon,” said Archimedes, “is a kind of quaker. She dresses in grey. A dutiful child, a constant lover, and a wise parent, she knows, like all philosophers, that the hand of every man is against her. She has learned throughout the centuries to specialize in escape. No pigeon has ever committed an act of aggression nor turned upon her persecutors: but no bird, likewise, is so skilful in eluding them. She has learned to drop out of a tree on the opposite side to man, and to fly low so that there is a hedge between them. No other bird can estimate a Range so well. Vigilant, powdery, odorous and loose-feathered -so that dogs object to take them in their mouths-armoured against pellets by the padding of these feathers, the pigeons coo to one another with true love, nourish their cunningly hidden children with true solicitude, and flee from the aggressor with true philosophy—a race of peace lovers continually caravaning away from the destructive Indian in covered wagons. They are loving individualists surviving Against the forces of massacre only by wisdom in escape.
T.H. White “The Once and Future King”
By way of context, I will cop to being highly confused about King Arthur –a tragically elusive figure if ever there was one. He rose to the throne, supposedly, around the 6th Century (500 years prior to Battle of Hastings and the attendant Norman Conquest) by implausibly dislodging a sword (Excalibur) embedded in a rock, as abetted by a dubious nymph called the Lady of the Lake. His main advisor was an addle- brained wizard who, according to some accounts, experiences time and memory in reverse chronological order . His war council wastes its blood and treasure in fruitless search for the Holy Grail. His wife steps out on him and falls in love with his best friend. His nephew usurps his throne, and both die in a battle of reclamation.
Cheery stuff, n’est ce pas?
About the only uplift one can derive from this story is that it is fictional. It is captured most notably in a 15th Century Sir Thomas Malory work, the titularly Frenchified: “Le Morte d’Arthur”. But the legend has persisted – albeit with significant modification, across the centuries. It is the subject of an endless sequence of poems, plays and (in more recent times) films – but perhaps never better captured (at least since in Malory’s day) than in the 1958 T.H. White fantasy novel “The Once and Future King”.
It is from this last source that we derive this week’s theme, which has nothing to do with Arthur, Guinevere, Camelot, the Knights of the Round Table in general, or such illustrious members as Sir Lancelot or his son, the idealized-as-the-perfect-knight Sir Galahad, in particular.
Instead, it is White’s above-supplied tribute to pigeons upon which we focus.
These much-maligned, ubiquitous, feathered creatures are more often dismissed as disease-ridden pests than celebrated as a noble, virtuous and heroic subspecies. Nonetheless, White has a point. They co-exist, in frighteningly large numbers, with mankind – mostly by adapting to our conceits and idiosyncrasies. One almost never encounters either their young or their dead. Across history, they have been trained as messengers, reliably delivering information across thousands of miles with near-perfect accuracy. Though no one seems to like them, they bear our animosity with pacific tranquility.
Until recently.
Has anyone else noticed that these so-called flying rats seem to be getting significantly more aggressive in recent days? Not long ago (well, over the summer anyway), I had multiple episodes of a pigeon nearly flying into me. One of these was in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and nearly sent me to the same fate as that of Van Gogh – whose one-eared straw-hatted self-portrait resides therein.
One might thus fairly inquire: what’s eating them? Is it the government shutdown? The unannounced remodeling of the East Wing of the White House? Climate Change? Income and Wealth disparities? NBA gambling scandals? The Louvre heist?
Maybe they don’t like being tariffed (and this might be particularly the case for carrier pigeons who must cross into multiple jurisdictions to perform their sacred missions). If so, they have ample cause for complaint:
Alternatively, and upon reflection, their pique may be owing to the pending and near-certain elevation of that socialist dude (call him Zo) to the lofty position of Mayor of New York City. Here, he will have big shoes to fill, including those of Ambrose Kingsland (1851 – 1853), Shady Jimmy Walker (1926 – 1932), Fiorello LaGuardia (1934 – 1945), Michael R. (3-Term) Bloomberg (2002 – 2013), and, of course, the GOAT: William de Blasio (2014 – 2021).
Zo has promised several bennies to New Yorkers (e.g. free transportation and childcare), but nothing for the pigeons. They won’t be allowed on busses — fare-free. They will be compelled to care for their hatchlings in an unsubsidized manner. Whatever they are paying in rent, the rate will not be frozen.
It could almost make a pigeon feel disenfranchised.
Perhaps, also, they’re a bit nervous about Wednesday’s Fed decision, during which, according, at any rate, to the futures markets, a quarter point cut is in the bag.
If so, I think this is an unjustified worry on their part.
Some may be long BTC and therefore justified in having a nervous breakdown. Perhaps they should take heart now that Trump has sprung CZ.
Of equity markets they have little to complain, what, with the Gallant 500 and Col. Naz, for the 32nd time this year, closing Friday at all-time highs. Moreover, this latest leg up has a holier look and feel than recent surges, being driven by what only can be described as an impressive earnings cycle thus far.
However, we’ll know a great deal more about that by the conclusion of this week, which features podium turns for no fewer than 5 out of the Mag 7 I have a hunch that these representatives of greater corporate beings won’t disappoint.
But maybe this is just another cause for pigeon aggression. Published reports indicate that bankers are about to book their biggest paydays in quite a spell, and, to the best of my understanding, their ranks include very few pigeons.
But pigeons aside, it appears to me that it remains a fairly strong environment for grail-hunting in the world of investment. They’s less than ten weeks left to this year. And lots of potentially positive catalysts loom. This coming week, I believe the Mag 5 rhetoric will please us. The Fed is most certain to cut rates. The tariff TACO trade – at least with respect to Canada and China – appears to be back in play. The gendarmes nabbed those muddle-headed jewel thieves this past weekend.
Yes, problems persist. There’s this nasty bit about the Fed’s Reverse Repo program collapsing upon itself, a phenomenon I won’t attempt to understand (much less Explain)
And across the Channel, The Bank of England’s quarterly report on financial stability warns of the possibility of an AI bubble (ya think?).
Unless your name is Soros (with deputy appellations such as Druckenmiller and Bessent), it seldom pays to mess with The Bank of England. It’s been around for well over 400 years, has stood solid through the American Revolution, the French Revolution, the Industrial Revolution, two world wars, and a whole bunch of other nasty shit.
Prior to that, matters were up for grabs. There was the above-mentioned, fictional Arthurian legend, the referenced revolution of 1066, The Hundred-Year War (actually, 116) and The War of the Roses. Somewhere in there, a nasty battle transpired between Richard II, his deposing successor Henry IV. It is a poignant tale which is a current obsession of mine.
Through it all, though, pigeons have not only survived, but, arguably, thrived. Among other reasons because they tend to their own business and little else.
There’s a lesson for all in this, including today’s more aggressive avian neighbors.
I only ask that they stay out of my face, and I will return the favor.
Otherwise, I can’t be responsible for the outcomes.
TIMSHEL