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Post Pubescent Crisis


By Henri - Posted on 11 February 2009

Or Why a Squeaky Voiced Guy Is Needed to End Peculation on Wall Street

Rocked in the artificial wombs above the fiftieth floor on the streets of legend and luxury; Born into the loving arms of nannies dedicated to teaching gentleness and honor and valor and the sacred, secret knowings of the Right; Armed with the mighty sword of respect for things as they are, not as they should be; Clad in the Armani and presented with a cherry on top; Tim Gerthner strode out into the light of a new day.  -- The Great American Novel by Henri Reynard

 

A whole new generation is coming of age. I saw it yesterday as a newly minted Secretary of the Treasury told us all and then our representatives in Congress, about the Importance of Being Earnest. Only he brought nothing!!!

That is a Jim Cramer style nothing. Not just any little nothing would do to describe how little new there is about how the new Sec Treas approached the rapidly aging crisis in our banks. As he squeaked and squealed his way through his presentations the traders on the Street gave him his immediate answer. The Dow dropped five percent on a day when everyone was waiting for the great new white light to emerge into our darkest day in a century.

Having fewer expectations than The Street,  I actually lived through that representation of reality quite nicely. Then I went into the room where my wife was toiling at her daily task of making our money last beyond all real possible expectations and made my statement. “We’re moving to Mexico. At least down there the sense of accomplishment we get out of surviving one more day is based on something real.”

She just looked at me and said, “What ever!! Where is that great American Novel you’ve been writing today? Is it still stuck in your computer, dear?”

So I slunk back here and wrote this instead. Oh yeah, and if you still don’t know why we neeeeeeed Tim Gerthner to deliver the non news when we have all of the dying press valiantly trying to make it look better; then welcome to the club. Neither do I.