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A Sentimental Journey
Ah! The old standards! Swing, and economic crashes!
“Trading on sentiment” is the latest euphemism for “panic.” You don’t
actually want to SAY “panic” because that might make nervous investors trade on
sentiment. The banks don’t have panics. They just get sentimental. Those bankers
just get a little misty-eyed, is all. And the Crash of 1929 and ensuing great
Depression weren’t economic catastrophes; they were just a sentimental journey.
Yesterday marked a first in American history in that Martin Luther King, Jr.
saved Wall Street’s ass. He didn’t MEAN to, of course. He probably wouldn’t have
borne them any malice, but, what with being dead and all, he wasn’t going to be
taking a real proactive role in current events.
But it was the official recognition of his birthday, which, like all American
holidays, fell on a date which had nothing to do with the event it was meant to
commemorate.
As a result, Wall Street was closed, and traders in the US got to huddle behind
closed signs with MLK’s image on them while the rest of the world went to hell
in a hand basket.
And hand basket it did. The traders were trading on sentiment, rather than with
the calm, deliberative waltzes with which these movers and shakers normally
guide human destiny. “Trading on sentiment,” on the other hand meant the traders
were screaming, setting fire to cars, biting the knobs off fire hydrants and
pissing themselves. About like any other trading day, except this time, they
were losing gobs of money. Most had the worst day seen since 9/11.
Every other market in the world bombed. Some only went down 3%, which rates as a
“sickening thud” on the Saffer-Simpson scale of market volatility. Others went
down 7%, which produces a sound among traders not unlike that of babies burning
to death. None made the magic 10% mark, which is when traders start leaping out
of skyscraper windows, but the recession is still young. There is still hope.
I’m writing this in the eye of a hurricane. The Fed just announced in the wee
hours of the morning that they were making a rate cut of three-quarters percent
in the interest rates. It’s a move based on sentiment, since the Dow futures
were down 606 points, and investors widely expected the Dow to open down by a
thousand points or more.
The Fed announcement that accompanied this extraordinary move was a masterpiece
of understatement: “The committee took this action in view of a weakening of the
economic outlook and increasing downside risks to growth. While strains in
short-term funding markets have eased somewhat, broader financial market
conditions have continued to deteriorate and credit has tightened further for
some businesses and households.”
You know. “Strains.” Strains sort of like the Hindenberg felt after a few small
flames appeared near its nose. Strains like those experienced by some buildings
in Hiroshima after the Enola Gay flew over. Strains. Just stresses, you know.
Now, I often compare market traders to a flock of chickens in a thunderstorm,
and that’s not meant as an insult to chickens. The old euphemism for their
behavior used to be “volatile.” Now it’s “stressed,” or maybe it’s sentimental.
When they “lose confidence in market conditions” and get misty eyed, they don’t
usually inspire confidence in others.
But these same advocates of the unregulated and free market also have a strong
tendency, when in trouble, to cling frantically to the pants leg of any
perceived authority figure that happens to be near, and in America, that would
be Ben Bernanke and the Fed. And the Fed has taken about the only move they
could, and done so – for once – in a timely manner.
So when the market opens in a few minutes, it might actually go UP a bit, a
phenomenon known as “hysterical relief” and one which is about as well-founded
as the cackling glee of a delusional manic paranoid in a mental institution.
IF Bernanke is lucky, he’s delayed the inevitable for a week, maybe two.
Just the other day I wrote “[The corporations have] stripped the nation of its
industrial core, but they have taken the world’s wealthiest nation and turned it
into a pauper state, where the standard of living of the citizenry is rapidly
dropping behind the rest of the third world, and people are unable to get decent
health care, or have any safety net if they lose their jobs. And workers in
America have no rights. The corporations, and their pet Republicans, simply
stole that from the American people. Trillions and trillions of national wealth,
gone. The greatest rip off in human history, the fall of the mightiest country.”
That’s what Bernanke is trying to hide with his wild slashes at interest rates.
Easy credit helped get us into this mess, and Bernanke is hoping easy credit
will get us back out, despite the trillions and trillions in debt that has
replaced productivity as the backbone of the American economy. It’s what the
market and the media are trying to hide with their increasingly silly
euphemisms, even as Paul Craig Roberts noted that an astonishing 91% of jobs
created in 2006 were “waitresses and bartenders, health care and social
assistance, and wholesale and retail trade, transportation and utilities.” That
isn’t an economy. That’s Douglas Adam’s colony of hairdressers and telephone
sanitizers who tried building an economy based on tree leaves. Roberts also
noted that 23% of all consumer spending went to foreign goods, despite the near
collapse of the dollar.
The opening bell on Wall Street has rung, and some of the more . . . sentimental
. . . among you might reflect on the fact that every time a bell rings, a Wall
Street broker loses his wings.
And the Dow is down at opening another 400 points.
It didn’t work. It might slow the crash, but it can’t quite hide the fact that
the supply-siders have destroyed the American economy.
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