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XL-entLady's Account Talk
- Thread starter XL-entLady
- Start date
- Status
XL-entLady
Well-known member
Yes, I think it's the first season. I've seen five episodes and I think that's all that have been broadcast so far. It really caught my eye because three of my doctors (primary care, neurologist and pain management) all stress that I need to find the most nutrition with the least sugar and processing that I can in my diet. And that is just what this program is trying to do....I just watched episode #2 on internet - What a fascinating program! Is this its first season? ...
Lady
XL-entLady
Well-known member
C and S Fund analogs are both above their 5, 15 and 20 day moving averages, Chaukin Money Flow shows $ moving into the funds at a rapid rate, stochastics are once again above 80. When does it stop?
I have no idea, but as long and those EMA lines are pointed up, I'm staying in.
I have no idea, but as long and those EMA lines are pointed up, I'm staying in.
Steadygain
TSP Elite
C and S Fund analogs are both above their 5, 15 and 20 day moving averages,
Chaukin Money Flow shows $ moving into the funds at a rapid rate,
stochastics are once again above 80.
When does it stop?
I have no idea, Then you need to read some posts Lady
but as long and those EMA lines are pointed up, I'm staying in.
We'll call this the 2 Month MEGA Gain
So it stops in 2 months ~~ but don't dispair ~~ it just needs a healty break to get its strength back
Thanks for staying !!
XL-entLady
Well-known member
But Steady, if I read any more posts I'll be at 110% read. :toung:
And re the 2 months bit, I didn't know that you had a crystal ball.
I think I'm going to use moving average crossovers to make my decision, crystal ball or not.
And re the 2 months bit, I didn't know that you had a crystal ball.
I think I'm going to use moving average crossovers to make my decision, crystal ball or not.
Valkyrie
Well-known member
Yes, I think it's the first season. I've seen five episodes and I think that's all that have been broadcast so far. It really caught my eye because three of my doctors (primary care, neurologist and pain management) all stress that I need to find the most nutrition with the least sugar and processing that I can in my diet. And that is just what this program is trying to do.
Lady
have u looked into the blood type diet plan? it makes a difference.
www.dadamo.com
Steadygain
TSP Elite
But Steady, if I read any more posts I'll be at 110% read. :toung:
And re the 2 months bit, I didn't know that you had a crystal ball.
Well it's not a crystal ball exactly
I bunched up some left over sticky pants I used before and it works pretty well. BTW -- hope ya saw the post in the California thread
Well take care
XL-entLady
Well-known member
I eat according to "South Beach" basically because of the glycemic level stuff and the high veggie requirement. But I don't know the blood type thing. I'll look into it. Thanks for the suggestion.
XL-entLady
Well-known member
Small caps (our S Fund) have been doing better than large caps (our C Fund) for ten years now according to the article below. I wonder when we'll have a reversion to the mean?
http://seekingalpha.com/article/192814-large-caps-vs-small-caps
"While the last year has been a period where practically all stocks, regardless of style or size, have risen, some stocks have risen more than others. Small caps (Russell 2000) have risen 95%, while large caps (S&P 500) are up a relatively modest 68.5%. This trend, however, is anything but a recent one. Small caps have essentially been outperforming large caps for the last decade. The chart below shows the ratio of the S&P 500 divided by the price of the Russell 2000. When the line is rising, large caps are outperforming small caps, and when the line is declining, small caps are outperforming.
Based on the relationship between the S&P 500 and the Russell 2000, relative performance between large and small cap stocks follows long-term cyclical trends. As shown in the chart below, periods of outperformance and underperformance by either category are measured in years rather than months. Even with the typical cycle lasting several years, though, the current cycle has been the longest of them all. After peaking out in 1999, large caps have been consistently underperforming small caps for ten years and counting. When it ends is anyone's guess, but it's hard not to argue that large caps are at least due for their day in the sun." (Click to enlarge)
http://seekingalpha.com/article/192814-large-caps-vs-small-caps
"While the last year has been a period where practically all stocks, regardless of style or size, have risen, some stocks have risen more than others. Small caps (Russell 2000) have risen 95%, while large caps (S&P 500) are up a relatively modest 68.5%. This trend, however, is anything but a recent one. Small caps have essentially been outperforming large caps for the last decade. The chart below shows the ratio of the S&P 500 divided by the price of the Russell 2000. When the line is rising, large caps are outperforming small caps, and when the line is declining, small caps are outperforming.
Based on the relationship between the S&P 500 and the Russell 2000, relative performance between large and small cap stocks follows long-term cyclical trends. As shown in the chart below, periods of outperformance and underperformance by either category are measured in years rather than months. Even with the typical cycle lasting several years, though, the current cycle has been the longest of them all. After peaking out in 1999, large caps have been consistently underperforming small caps for ten years and counting. When it ends is anyone's guess, but it's hard not to argue that large caps are at least due for their day in the sun." (Click to enlarge)
XL-entLady
Well-known member
I have an extremely intelligent friend for whom I have a lot of respect. This friend said that it might be vacation time. What a great idea.
After a long winter it's almost May Day. Time to reconnect with the beauty all around me. I need to restore my ho'zho'.
See y'all in a week or so.
After a long winter it's almost May Day. Time to reconnect with the beauty all around me. I need to restore my ho'zho'.
See y'all in a week or so.
Lady,
Enjoy the R&R. Try to touch base once in awhile and don't forget to share the pictures.
XL-entLady
Well-known member
"The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn."
— T.H. White (The Once and Future King)
— T.H. White (The Once and Future King)
XL-entLady
Well-known member
Our C Fund analog has broken down through its 5 and 20 day moving averages. Our S Fund analog has broken through the 5 day moving average but is not yet close to its 20 day moving average.
One more day like this and the SPX will hit my stop and I'll be out of C Fund. It would take a bit more for S Fund to hit its stop. It's been a good run but this could be nearing the end. Then again in this market it could just be catching breath for another run. :blink:
One more day like this and the SPX will hit my stop and I'll be out of C Fund. It would take a bit more for S Fund to hit its stop. It's been a good run but this could be nearing the end. Then again in this market it could just be catching breath for another run. :blink:
jdphx
Member
XL-entLady
Well-known member
I will always treasure the experience of meeting Holly Stevens and listening to her read her father's poem entitled
Sunday Morning
Sunday Morning
1
Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound.
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.
2
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measure destined for her soul.
3
Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.
4
She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.
5
She says, "But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss."
Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams
And our desires. Although she strews the leaves
Of sure obliteration on our paths,
The path sick sorrow took, the many paths
Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love
Whispered a little out of tenderness,
She makes the willow shiver in the sun
For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze
Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.
She causes boys to pile new plums and pears
On disregarded plate. The maidens taste
And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.
6
Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set pear upon those river-banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
7
Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feel shall manifest.
8
She hears, upon that water without sound,
A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine
Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay."
We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
- Wallace Stevens
Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound.
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.
2
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measure destined for her soul.
3
Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.
4
She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.
5
She says, "But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss."
Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams
And our desires. Although she strews the leaves
Of sure obliteration on our paths,
The path sick sorrow took, the many paths
Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love
Whispered a little out of tenderness,
She makes the willow shiver in the sun
For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze
Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.
She causes boys to pile new plums and pears
On disregarded plate. The maidens taste
And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.
6
Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set pear upon those river-banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
7
Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feel shall manifest.
8
She hears, upon that water without sound,
A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine
Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay."
We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
- Wallace Stevens
Last edited:
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