Onion Eater
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2008
- Messages
- 65
Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And critiqued what the Austrians did enthrone;
For Hayek had got his triangle backwards, clear
But a rebuttal was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
And a rebuttal was hard to come by.
Up came Bob with his big boots on.
Said he to Troll: “Pray, what is yon?
For it looks like Prices n' Production o' my nuncle Fritz.
As should be a-lyin' in the graveyard.
Caveyard! Paveyard!
This many a year has Fritz been gone,
And I thought his books were lyin' in the graveyard.”
“My lad,” said Troll, “Hayek’s triangle you extol
But what be a theory with a logical hole?
Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o' lead,
Afore I wrote my Critique.
Weak! Shriek!
He can spare a share for a poor old troll,
For he don't need his theory whole.”
Said Bob: “I don't see why the likes o' thee
Without axin' leave should go makin' free
With the books or the larning o' the Austrian's kin;
So hand the old book over!
Rover! Trover!
Though dead he be, it belongs to he;
So hand the old book over!”
“For a couple o' pins,” says Troll, and grins,
“I'll refute thee too, and gnaw thy work’s withins.
A bit o' fresh theory will go down sweet!
I'll try my polemics on thee now.
Hee now! See now!
I'm tired o' gnawing old books and skins;
I've a mind to refute mod' Austrians now.”
But just as he thought his reputation wrought,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, Bob slipped behind
And gave him the boot to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A bump o' the boot on the seat, Bob thought,
Would be the way to larn him.
But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the axiomatic root,
For the seat of a troll don't feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old Troll laughed, when he heard Bob groan,
And he knew the young Austrian could feel it.
Bob's reputation is game, since home he came,
And his doctorate degree is lasting lame;
But Troll don’t care, and he’s still there
With the rebuttal he boned from its owner.
Doner! Loner!
Troll’s old seat is still the same,
And the rebuttal he boned from its owner!
You see, Bob pushed his analysis to caveman days,
But Troll insisted that value in the future lays.
Value is always subjective, not intrinsic at all,
And supply is not the same as stock, he explained.
Reigned! Deigned!
The Economics Troll won, Hayek’s triangle he did raze,
As Axiomatic Theory prevailed, Austrianism waned.
www.axiomaticeconomics.com/rebuttals.php
And critiqued what the Austrians did enthrone;
For Hayek had got his triangle backwards, clear
But a rebuttal was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
And a rebuttal was hard to come by.
Up came Bob with his big boots on.
Said he to Troll: “Pray, what is yon?
For it looks like Prices n' Production o' my nuncle Fritz.
As should be a-lyin' in the graveyard.
Caveyard! Paveyard!
This many a year has Fritz been gone,
And I thought his books were lyin' in the graveyard.”
“My lad,” said Troll, “Hayek’s triangle you extol
But what be a theory with a logical hole?
Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o' lead,
Afore I wrote my Critique.
Weak! Shriek!
He can spare a share for a poor old troll,
For he don't need his theory whole.”
Said Bob: “I don't see why the likes o' thee
Without axin' leave should go makin' free
With the books or the larning o' the Austrian's kin;
So hand the old book over!
Rover! Trover!
Though dead he be, it belongs to he;
So hand the old book over!”
“For a couple o' pins,” says Troll, and grins,
“I'll refute thee too, and gnaw thy work’s withins.
A bit o' fresh theory will go down sweet!
I'll try my polemics on thee now.
Hee now! See now!
I'm tired o' gnawing old books and skins;
I've a mind to refute mod' Austrians now.”
But just as he thought his reputation wrought,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, Bob slipped behind
And gave him the boot to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A bump o' the boot on the seat, Bob thought,
Would be the way to larn him.
But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the axiomatic root,
For the seat of a troll don't feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old Troll laughed, when he heard Bob groan,
And he knew the young Austrian could feel it.
Bob's reputation is game, since home he came,
And his doctorate degree is lasting lame;
But Troll don’t care, and he’s still there
With the rebuttal he boned from its owner.
Doner! Loner!
Troll’s old seat is still the same,
And the rebuttal he boned from its owner!
You see, Bob pushed his analysis to caveman days,
But Troll insisted that value in the future lays.
Value is always subjective, not intrinsic at all,
And supply is not the same as stock, he explained.
Reigned! Deigned!
The Economics Troll won, Hayek’s triangle he did raze,
As Axiomatic Theory prevailed, Austrianism waned.
www.axiomaticeconomics.com/rebuttals.php