SuperGurl

I hope I have deceived none of you. I am not an economist, nor am I of any particular significance within my field. I am one severely exposed individual, which I think gives me a unique grasp of current events.

Everybody seems traumatized these days, and who can blame them? I feel as if I’ve been at war for six months. But you can’t deny the pattern, people. I know, I know. This time it’s different. Yes? Of course, it is.

In my tiny corner of the world, I hear the same old tired arguments rising up to a crest. Gold. The most precious metal. What a crock! I listen to a lot of conservative radio and some of the personalities go as far as voice-over endorsement ads, recommending people diversify into gold. Suprises me, to hear the most staunch conservatives advocating such an obcenely volatile asset class, with no remorse for peddling it to the masses. It baffles. Commodities are volatile assets, folks, always have been. How then did we come to accept this premise? Are we being duped again by the fear mongering media?

While there’s obviously no limit to the number of dollars our government is willing to print, I can clearly imagine the value decending rapidly towards obsolete. I’ll even one-up that part of the theory by stating it’s a rare few that can fairly value a dollar today, as is. Enter stellar debt and black hole deficits, and most won’t have a prayer. Still, even if you ride that bus all the way to Armageddon, you believe that once the world goes to shit we will suddenly become a nation of barterers trading in precious metals? Krugerrands & bars of gold? Really? I doubt it.

The most precious metal is lead, bar (of gold) none. With lead you can protect your family. Lead has real muscle when it comes to control and power. Life stopping lead, why you can even eat it should the situation become dire enough. Put yourself between your family’s starvation and your last loaf of bread. What would you rather have, a bar of gold or a round of bullets? I think I’d choose the latter. Definitely, more bang for the buck.

But again, I’m no economist. What do I know? Nothing special. I’m just another twitchy eye on the world upside down. I’m as moderate as I can be with my lifestyle and I’m still a gluttonous, capitalist pig. And still, I think I’m only mildly infected.

Take heart: Optimism equals courage. Don’t be afraid to believe that things may work out (despite the communists in power.) Without that belief, things won’t. Go ahead and put the I in resilient. Don’t make the same mistakes. If you can’t find anything great to believe about this country, if you can’t see a recovery on the horizon, then by all means, please, sell everything you have and buy lead.

San Francisco. I landed the day after the election. Not the best place for a conservative to spend the apocalypse, but you know, no one embraces the suck like I can. So I went and enjoyed every minute of it.

Never had been there before. And it was a whirlwind. I went there for work. It was in no way a junket. It was among the most stressful experiences of my career, actually. A lot of things were made clear for me. Things that, looking back, I’d rather have languished in denial a little longer. Hindsight’s 20/20, and all that.

And the Golden Gate made for interesting background noise for all of it. I don’t remember knowing anything about it before, but I got an interesting history lesson while waiting for the sun to peek into the pacific time zone.

He told me that the bridge was designed prior to the great crash of 1929, and how the economy entering the Great Depression had thrown even more cold water on the idea of building “the bridge that could not be built.”

The guy that was telling me was there from New York. His foreign dialect rang familiar in my ears and intensified my interest in the tale. And he’s explaining the hard times, the protests, all led by the Ferries, because before the bridge of course, the only way across the Golden Gate was by riding a ferry… F-E-R-R-Y.”

And he actually spelled it. I said, “I know, I’m from Texas, but did you really just spell “ferry” at me?” Which of course made me think about riding a fairy across the bay. How could I not? I freaking detest when I find myself drowning in gutter thoughts like that. Honestly, I blame you people.

But it cost me the end of the Ferry showdown story. And a real life drama that enveloped the same time period as the Great Depression. I love the Great Depression. My narrator said their were books on the subject, and I intended to buy one, but alas, this is all I learned. Maybe I’ll hit a book store this weekend.

Or, you could make up some history for me in the comments? C’mon. Finish the story for me, would ya? Let’s play some mad libs history, can we? It’s the weekend, make up something meaningful. It’s good exercise for a dull world. Thanks for your historical perversions in advance. I dig your madness.

Whoa there, hoss. Thank goodness for the purity of the intranets, or I would have thrown myself into traffic by now.

My dearest allies, hear me. Do not believe the Devil when he speaks. There is no reason to trust what you are hearing now. None. So before you rely on the media’s interpretation of what’s happening, ask yourself, “When was the last time the media was responsible for delivering the truth?”

I love languange, I abuse it at will. You can only truly hurt the ones you love. But the abuses on the television are actually too numerous to name at this point, so as a layman I would just like to set a few things straight on this hallowed page so that all who wander here can put on my armor, feel the power of the forcefield known as the truth.

Cynics among us are wise to depart. Cynics don’t like truth, it tears them apart. But look closely dear brethren, you know it to be true, the cynic inside you is beaten and blue. Surrender your emotions, they won’t help you here. Your logic is necessary, desirable and clear.

Abuse #1: This credit crisis has been perpetrated by Wall Street and now Main Street is being forced to pay the bill.

The credit crisis was perpetrated by the greed of both Main Street folks taking out loans beyond their means, knowingly, and the institutions that exploited them (which were most notoriously government sponsored enterprise). Here in the over-regulated world of finance, that constitutes fraud. Plain and simple really. Now we don’t expect all of you non-regulated folktards to understand that you are breaking the law. And we know in some cases you can be too blinded by your own aspirations to care that you are breaking the law. But ladies and gentleman, in the comments I implore you, what then constitutes bank fraud to you? To me, in the simplest of terms, it’s knowingly over-extending yourself. Isn’t that truly the crux of the credit crisis?

In the unprecendented panic that played out this week, I had a moment of extreme clarity with one of my clients. He said he remembered friends all jumping into the real estate investment business and how easy the money seemed to come to them. Nothing down, no skin in the game. He said it always terrified him but looking back, had he known his taxes were going to be sucked away to bail them out, he would have interjected. I think we all feel that way now, that we were complicit in the crimes. People, knowing that you played a role, that’s involvement, however tangental. We all should have done something and we all should have seen this coming.

Abuse #2: Regulation and Government Intervention is the solution.

Nope. That dog doesn’t hunt. You want to talk about regulation? Let’s do. Regulation existed at every possible turn in the works of this now known clusterfuck and each time it failed to even slow the inevitable forces of greed and self-interest, yours and mine. Government intervention? Pardon me if I vomit in your face. Fannie Mae and Fredddie Mac were government sponsored enterprises and they are at the root of the crisis. It is the implicit government guarantees that destined them to failure decades ago. Just back in March of this year, when I was travelling east, I remember the news stations were still trying to unravel the mangled accounting practices of these government sponsored enterprises. To no avail, apparently. Funny when it was truly Wall Street (Enron, WorldCom, Dot.bombs) at fault, dozens of Wall Street regulars went to jail and we all felt justice was swift. I guess since encarcerating the brutes at the root of this public ass rape would leave us without a governing body in Congress, we don’t seem as bloodthirsty this round for sacrificial lambs?

I can’t wait until Obama turns Health Care and Energy Creation into government sponsored enterprises, for they are the final frontier in American innovation and life changing invention. Yeah, what we need right now is to choke out the last fully functioning parts of our economy. For crying out loud, vote Republican or we are all fuct.

Abuse #3: We are on the brink of a Great Depression

You hear that Elizabeth? I’m coming to join you. Redd Fox couldn’t sell drama this dank. I wanted to switch parties again this week when McCain was allowed to waffle on saying the fundamentals of our economy are sound. The fundamentals are sound. Our economy is made up of many industries and a trainwreck in one should not be assumed to torpedo all. How else do you explain our growth in GDP as recently as last quarter? I doubt the oil industry’s profits will be affected much by mortgage default rates. Thank goodness. Likewise, I expect agriculture, energy, construction and other industries to increase profits under the forced efficiency of tightening lending policies. Every dollar counts when the easy money dries up.

Our guiding principles are just. But like in days of old, nothing heals a democracy’s wounds quite like a public hanging. Dispense with the justice already, you blowhards, and let’s hang one for the Gipper, shall we? Starting with those known to have had insider information that ultimately doomed the American taxpayer (Note: taxpayer, not public–the two are not the same), the cowards of Congress who created this monster and fostered it’s incomprehensible survival in a free and competitive society. So who’s going to jail this time, that’s what I really want to know?

And there are more topics I’d like to take up, but it’s a beautiful weekend day in the land of the free and the brave. We are going to go entertain a few evacuees from the coast, share some fresh baked goodies with them and celebrate the freedom that allows us every subtle comfort that Americans enjoy. Thanks to the US military, ultimately, and in no way provided by the Fed.

Prosperity now to you, deary, and don’t forget, there’s always profit to be had in the truth. Considering we are neck deep into third quarter earnings reporting season, what is normally a depressed earnings atmosphere should be flipping-out-as-if-on-crack excited about any reported corporate profit. What a strange and wonderful perspective for third quarter! Don’t you think? We shall see. Prosperity now!

Hey, out there! Out in Swellville, I do envy you so.

Certainly no improvement here. I have so little time to do so much. Motivation has never been my friend, but I’m afraid the full moon converging with Constipation Fest may be just the cruxy confluence of events to mark my final descent into madness.

And in less than a day, my skin will be crawling and stomach churning in the pits of a windowless pale peach padded banquet room. Intros creep me out. Feels too much like an AA meeting, which is funny considering none of us have the ability to quit.

Nah. Constipation Fest means learning what the powers that be have decided is our next priority. We get whiffs of it in the weeks leading up to Constipation Fest. Usually just bipolar interpretations of the inevitable change to come. We will hear it all, everything from glory days to we are all totally fuct. I can’t wait. The whiffs I’ve gotten so far smell of festival grade dookie house. They are going to blow the doors off.

But then the nice thing about Constipation Fest is its inherent celebration of survival. You have to love the gut-busting goodness of knowing that this is the fifteenth fest I have been subjected and somehow survived. And hey, that means nada con zilch among the plaque plied mutants that flourish there. But it means a whole lot of something to me.

Something like success, or maybe just suck less. Either perspective, I welcome the change. And I guess like my wise minded clientele, after so many years I’ve learned to appreciate the delivery of an on-schedule mass of crap.

CF 15, hell yeah!

I did it. I actually did it. Today I cast my vote. Today I made my mark, however minor.

I crossed over. I voted Hillary. There, I said it. I voted Hillary Clinton because I think she is the most divisive force in the Democrap Party, and as a good republican, I’d hate to see her go.

First, can I say that if she wins in November, I will be devastated knowing I played any part. I detest her. I hate her ways. I’m repulsed by all the class warfare. But she’s easy to hate. That’s why I crossed over folks, I did it for you. For the greater good. You’re welcome.

It was traumatizing for me though. I ran into several of the Republican Ladies whom I know quite well. They looked at me as though I were pulling bong hits in a federal courtroom, mouths agape and everything. I said, “I’m being the best conservative I know how to be,” and I meant it, but it felt so wrong. Like, I was begging them for forgiveness. The peer pressure unimaginable, I’m not one of them. I’m not!

I shared my talking points with anyone who would listen. It was like an open mic confessional, if you will. One, screw you, Republican party, for dictating that it all be done, decided, settled before half the country got to vote. Makes me jealous of the Democrats for having a real race. Two, since it’s McCain, I’ll do my part in expressing my disgust by pretending to be a defector this round. So, you don’t want to act like Republicans anymore, well neither do I. You had better get to work on winning me back.

And after they checked my voter registration card and let me pick my ballot vegas style, this bitch behind the table reaches down and stamps “Democrat” on my registration card. Whoa, now, Nelly, you have just really screwed up.

“How dare you?” I asked.

“What?”

“You heard me, how dare you? It’s just a primary, lady, and you can’t call me that.”

“You can cross through it”

“Yes. I can and I will. But please don’t do this to other people, it’s hateful. I thought it was illegal to deface federal documents and you are stamping obscenities all over them? What is wrong with you?”

And with my crazy lady aura still hanging in mid-air, I turned, I voted, and I exited as quickly as possible. But it hurt, it cut me deep. I think Democrats are the most foul, unintelligent folks on the planet. Today, I impersonated one.

I have seen the dark side, people. Please, forgive me.