and the Wafer-thin Mint
I have a good metaphor for when central banks
pump billions into the
credit market because of greedy corporations
& lax regulations.
It's essentially like this: the market is an arrogant,
'paragon-of-perfect-health', obese man who, from
time to time,
complains that his belly hurts & he needs
his pants adjusted larger,
promising to curb his bad habits & lose some
The central banks & the government are enabling,
co-dependent, klonopin-taking, neurotic, passive
aggressives who want
just to be liked & will give the giant fatass
what he wants, after
making a brief, pathetic gesture at informing
Wide Load that his
health is critical & he can't go on like
So what happens when the belt is given more notches
& the pants are
made larger? You have a fatass who might make
a show of dieting for a
day or two, then it's back on with his bad habits,
anything & everything with a vigorious rigor.
Until the next time he
complains of a sour belly & requests that
his pants be made even
larger. We all keep feeding the large bastard
in the end.
And, sometimes, the market becomes Mr. Creosote
in Monty Python's
The Meaning Of Life, painting the entire room
with his exploded guts,
chest cavity is now blasted open, after just
one "waffer-thin" mint.
We Taxpayers are called upon with buckets &
mops, up to our trousers
in financial disgorgement, to lap up the corporation's
fiscal vomit &
pick up wayward insolvent innards.
The market is seemingly confused by what has just
happened, but the
unflappable ma'tre d' (the government)
then calmly walks up to him and
presents "the cheque, monsieur." But a blank
cheque made out to Mr.
Creosote, of course.
If you were to ask why this sick cycle is allowed
to continue, why I
imagine the response to be:
"Why, he's our very best customer!"
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