Yee haw!

Quite a ride!

I’m actually very enthused about this turn of events. Hank Paulson needs to get his flabby butt out of Washington via the first sealed cattle car headed to Siberia. Barney Fag should be in the next cattle car available.

I think we may look back on this defeat as the start of America’s rebirth. God help those thieving bastards my former party elected if they cave and vote in the same bill tomorrow.

Gold standard, anyone?

Fasten your seatbelts!

WaMu perished last night, falling into the hands of JPMogenDavid. Apparently, deposits are safe, but shareholders and creditors are to get nothing.

The Paulson deal is deader than the dodo.

The House Republicans have heard loud and clear from their constituencies that they sign the $700mm blank check at their peril.

Bernanke must have told the GOP caucus last night that he’s known about this problem for a year. That’s such a bizarre statement to begin with, like saying he’s known about the existence of the sun for at least a year. Is there someone who has been paying attention who has not known about this problem?

Then, someone in the caucus must have said something like “I’m shocked! I’m shocked to learn that there is a big problem with the credit markets and with the value of securitized assets!”

Today is going to be an interesting day, in the fullest sense of the Chinese proverb.

Enrico celebrates the restoration of power stoicly

Enrico returned to his leafy suburb from the Rice Alliance meeting, and noted that electric power was restored to his humble abode!

He is celebrating the restoration of power, of the which the principal incremental benefit is central air conditioning, by sitting on his smoking porch, puffing on a stogie, listening to the earnings report of his favorite company. Ironically, the night is very pleasant, and he tonight has no need of central air.

But he is glad to be spared the daily task of siphoning gasoline out of the suburban to fuel the generator. Enrico thinks he might be able to provide power for his neighborhood simply by breathing hard into a flame.

No cable TV, and no comcast internet yet. The Sprint broadband card ranks high in Enrico’s list of hurricane survival gear. The phones are descompuesto.

Enrico is very grateful for the restoration of power. But he would have stuck it out without power indefinitely, as long as he could obtain gasoline for his generator.

Enrico is chuckling to himself at the (justifiably) fawning remarks of the analysts, particularly Adam Frisch, on the earnings call of his favorite enterprise. The enterprise is totally spectacular, almost supernaturally spectacular.

The world is a hazardous place. My favorite enterprise’s clients are very worried about whether they will survive the rampant turmoil. My favorite enterprise is an arms dealer in a dangerous world.

Uhh, Bob? Can I have a word?

Enrico has to be Bob Brinker’s biggest fan. He is well nigh infallible. Enrico was commuting to his client location on Wall Street one Monday morning in January 2000, having just flown into New York, and his cell phone rang. It was Gladys! Enrico will always remember that moment, riding in the limo on the FDR, passing by the fish shops in utter lower Manhattan, when Gladys told Enrico that a missive had been received in the mail from Bob Brinker, alerting us to SELL EVERYTHING!

It was a sell signal. Bob’s signals of any kind are few and far between. Enrico had been following Bob for a long time, and he was ready to act instantly on Bob’s advice. Right there, in the limo, Enrico dialed up all of his brokers and sold everything.

Bob was absolutely right, albeit a little early. The market went sideways for quite a while in 2000, but ultimately, by late 2000, it was crystal clear that a horrible disaster was afoot.

Then, in March 2003, Bob issued a “buy” signal. This signal was totally uncanny, he bizarrely issued the signal on the VERY DAY of the ABSOLUTE LOW in the S&P 500.

Of course, Enrico robotically followed his advice.

Enrico is far, far wealthier today than he would have been had he not followed Bob’s advice on these two occasions. Enrico avoided most of the carnage of the meltdown that commenced in 2000, and was johnny-on-the-spot to profit from the rally that commenced in March 2003.

So, Enrico is very troubled right now to be forced to differ with Bob on his current outlook on the stock market.

Frankly, Enrico is not even too sure what Bob’s outlook IS right now. Enrico just got a bulletin from Bob recommending a dollar-cost averaging approach for new money, but, previously, Bob has focused in his discussion on the virtue of buying the broad market at some specific low price on the S&P 500. Enrico can’t remember exactly what this number was, but for his purposes it doesn’t matter, because Enrico has no intention of buying the broad market right now under any circumstances.

So, Bob’s latest bulletin is a bearish pullback, granted, because he has stopped talking about buying at some theoretically bargain price.

Here’s the problem: inflation. The money supply of USD is expanding at an annual rate of something like 20 to 30%. The true rate of inflation has got to be at least 15% annually. It is hard to analyze because the offset against the massive redhot printing press is the rampant destruction of financial assets represented by events such as the knock-down price of Merrill, and the execution of Lehmann. It is hard to get a firm handle on the quantity of the bonfire of USD represented by these kinds of events. What will the value of Merrill’s holdings ultimately be in the hands of the Skank of America? No one knows.

Bob claims to have a financial model which drives his market timing calls. He has something, for sure, because his track record is publicly verifiable. I think, though, that he is using the bogus official inflation numbers in his model. If he has a model which considers that inflation is about 4 or 5%, that model yields a dramatically different answer than a model which considers that inflation is 15%.

I think Bob accepts the official inflation numbers, because he frequently admonishes callers to his weekend radio show that so far, there is no evidence of high inflation.

I have heard him have the following conversation with callers:

caller: Bob, I’m worried about the collapse in the dollar. The dollar is worth half what it was worth in terms of the Euro compared to seven years ago.

Bob: And, uh, in what currency do you earn and spend your money?

caller: the US Dollar.

Bob: So, why do you care about the value of the dollar against the Euro?

I cannot note the caller’s response to this rhetorical question. I don’t know what it typically is, because i am always yelling so loud at Bob when I hear this response that I never hear the caller’s answer.

This answer doesn’t work for me. Pretending that we’re not having inflation because of the fedgov’s bizarre transparent manipulation of the official inflation figures is a bizarre stance.

I am listening to Bob’s radio show right now, and he is even right now rabidly poo-pooing the notion that we’re going to have inflation.

How not, Bob?

I can answer that for him: there has to be enough asset destruction and enough economic contraction to offset the printing press. How can anyone be sanguine that this is the case? And, if it is, how can one calmly buy the broad market?

Bob, can i have a word?

There is hope in the air!

Centerpoint’s restoration schedule

I am so distracted by the lack of electrical power that I cannot even comment on the accelerating financial meltdown. I will limit myself to admonishing my readers to watch the Libor. 30 day Libor is at 3 something, the fed funds rate is at 2. This cannot be. One of them is lying, and one of them will have to grovelingly confess it pretty damn soon.

But I digress. I am writing this on my sleek little stripped down travel lappie, in my backyard, connected with my Sprint broadband card, and the cell reception on the Sprint network is LIGHTYEARS improved even from this morning. The electricity elves have evidently been busting their humps today within line of sight from Enrico’s abode.

Even Enrico’s treo is doing better. Enrico requisitioned the prepaid AT&T cellphones from Sam and Bert today and they actually show umpteen bars, way better than Enrico’s Treo.

I saw quite the squad of centerpoint workers today on Piney Point Road.

Centerpoint’s website has a map showing their planned schedule of restoration, and Enrico had to break out the ruler and micrometer to try to determine whether his humble abode lay within the light blue zone (o happy day!) signifying restoration by Monday the 22nd, or the dark blue zone (curses! foiled again!) signifying the troubling euphemism of “after Monday.”

The verdict is somewhat unclear, but he feels on the whole that his neighborhood is light blue.

If you know or conclude otherwise, please keep it to yourself–Enrico needs the balm of optimistic expectations just now.

A fond farewell to Brother Ike

Enrico and his clan have been visited by Brother Ike, who was not a pleasant guest. He is gone now, thank god, and will not return.

Everyone is okay. Enrico’s abode suffered minor roof damage due to the destruction of nearby trees.

Enrico’s favorite private school has massive tree destruction, but, miraculously, there was no structural damage, and even more miraculously, the power is back on, unlike the situation at Enrico’s abode.

Enrico is writing this post from the parking lot of the Kroger on Echo Lane which appears to be open.

Enrico’s cell phone and broadband laptop cell card are not too happy at his residence. Of course, there is no POTS at all, let alone cable internet, as the power is disrupted.

I wager that we will be relatively late to have power restored. Our neighborhood is heavily wooded, the power lines are strung precariously through the tangle of trees, and the trees have been blown down. If I were running Centerpoint, I would put the priority on my neighborhood low, as the residents are far less vulnerable to these kinds of disruptions than the average bear. My neighbors and I have resources for coping which the average citizen probably lacks.

That said, if the guy who is who is actually running Centerpoint happens to read this blog, I beseech you to dispatch a crew post haste to restore my power.

No harm in asking!

I really feel it in my heart for the residents of Galveston and especially Bolivar. That is a serious tragedy.

Enrico has a place on the island, but he hears that it survived with no damage, due to its recent construction and to its location on the tenth floor of a highrise condo building.

I’m kind of glad the kids have had the opportunity to experience a hurricane. Humility is a good trait in a human being, and despite mankind’s apparent mastery of nature, this is mostly an illusion.

That Pig Don’t Hunt

I am rooting for Barack Hussein Osama in the general, but i am tickled nonetheless by the way he fell into this pig lipstick trap. It was an unwise remark, and it was obviously brought to his mind by Palin’s hockey mom quip, even if it was not consciously meant to denigrate Palin.

“Senator Obama! Senator Obama! Do you really think Governor Palin is a pig? Does your muslim heritage permit you to use the word ‘pig’? If she’s a pig, does your muslim heritage permit you to share a stage with her? Will there have to be some kind of ritual cleaning of the podium before you’re allowed to touch it? Do you think a pig should be allowed to run for vice president of the United States? If the Congress passed a constitutional amendment to ban pigs from the presidency, would you sign it?”

O the guffaws!

Obama is now getting mad, exactly the wrong response. He should have just laughed it off, and said something facetiously complimentary about Governor Palin’s looks, like “Who am I to question the judges at the Miss Alaska pageant?”

When you get mad and start denying things, you have totally fallen into the trap, and are actually impaled on feces-smeared punji sticks.

Now, Obama can only hope that McCain says something like “When I look at Senator Obama’s proposals for the government’s fiscal policy, I just have to think there’s something in the woodpile that doesn’t belong there.”

The lynching of an uppity Rangel

The BAOJ has this report on yet another sea of woes for Chuckie Rangel.

I gotta tell ya, no one assumes more rabidly than I that a ratsocrat is scumbag thief, but, as I read this piece, which, admittedly, is published by the BAOJ, hardly a reliable source of truth and light, i am hard pressed to see the substantive violation of ethics.

But, I am nonetheless heartened by this report, in this regard: the GOP, despite its current kleptocratic tendencies, has generally ruthlessly condemned its members who even remotely whiff of impropriety. I applaud this eating of one’s own young: the temptations for a federal office holder to loot the public treasury are so prevalent, and the opportunities are so rife and so easily latched onto, that the only rational approach is to ruthlessly anally impale violators. Lord knows the ratsocrats have taken the opposite approach. It is devoutly to be hoped that both parties rededicate themselves to the principal that those who are not totally beyond reproach must be aggressively condemned and ripped in their public personage limb from limb, to repent in private life, in disgrace.