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The Market 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, stubborn,
'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 weight.

The central banks & the government are enabling, lip servicing,
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 this.

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, wolfing down
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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