Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Bankers at the White House.

0712/1758 50/60 Blue Skies NNE15/20 75%H
DOGS 10598 8025 1136 1846.

Greetings from the Hill.

Blue skies and fifty degrees at ten o'clock,
cats taking the sunbeams in chairs,
classics from Havana in the blogroom,
windows and door closed...
Tony's special chili simmering
in the microwave,
palms swaying outside.

"So this is the big meeting of the minds,
the leaders of corruption and fraud,
the innovators of financial engineering,
the creators of wealth management,
caretakers of the commoner's currency,
manipulators of mortgages,"
snorts the madone always curious
of swindles and lies,
moreso the gullibility of the conned,
those believers of something more
than what they are getting,
those wannabees in SUV's.....

Imagine if Obama asked for answers
not explained by journalists,
not argued by commentators,
not wondered by pundits...
"What the fuck are derivatives
and how could there be
a quadrillion dollar market
in insuring default on debt
in the trillions...
and why were counterparties
paid with government monies?"

The current crop of crooks
had not the experience of politics,
being part of Change without Truth,
deregulating tiresome interference,
technoregulatory arbitrage...
financial fraud,
innovation allowing the forbidden,
getting around the rules,
bending the law, fixing a ticket,
"Get a good lawyer, hofuckingho,
if you want to keep your house
and find your pension funds,"
shysters and shylocks,
Citibank at thirty percent
Zero percent from the Fed.

"Duh duh, 'it's all beyond me,"

Imagine 'this shit' started
with Reaganomics when the president
was a convincing fellow in a time
of peril and financial worries,
a man of delegation, he allowed
his advisors to execute and effect
administration policies ....

"Sounds good to me, Olly,"
a little trade here and there,
"Good David, Nancy likes 'it'."

And Stockman still lurks about.

"It is all about Efficient Market Hypothesis,
intellectually sounding phrases about
managing risk by turning volatility
against 'it'....
the Theory of Heterogeneous Expectation,
longing an exchange trade and shorting the OTC,
and Madeoff ran the Nasdaq.....
pink slips for jew lips..hohoho,"
the madone was learning his lines.

Back at the White House the mulatto
had on his thinking cap wondering
about directorships and speeches,
he had a way with words
but was never good with numbers,
he could learn fedspeak...
but would there be a Federal Reserve,
even if he retired after one term,
'that fucking Ron Paul',
and that bald headed little jew
makes sixty million in salary,
god knows how much hidden everywhere,
grinning at Blankfein to confuse him
and frowning at Dimon,
his finger in the FRBNY,
fingerfuck, both hands.

This new guy at the Bank of America,
a little too agreeable...
the monster was a wreck like Citi,
and too many of those things,
fucking derivatives, bets on bets,
and now death, air, and our roads.

"Is nothing sacred from your gambling,"
the President posed to the banksters
who as one sat silent.

"The Fink started 'it',"
sneered the man from Mellon,
the Ten Trillion Dollar man.

From First Boston to Lehman,
to Blackstone then Blackrock,
ML,PNC,Barclays eighty percent
and still in the chair.

Runs AIG's collection of shit
for the Treasury and Tiny Tim,
where was 'he' today.

"Brrrrr ohfuckingbrrrr,"
laughs Tony with cold beer
and a sandwich from BO's,
joining the oldman at noon.

Chores in the afternoon to repair
the damaged plants from roosters
scavaging the balcony beauties,
his precious cuban oregano.

"No one tells the Truth...
does anyone really know anymore,
is 'it' all offshore
beneath an invisible island
in a carnival cavern
run by the pixelman,"
muses the oldman coming alive
with chilibeans and beer,
a grouper fish sandwich
with french fries.

The media is controlled
by senile old fools,
Murdoch and his chinese spy,
a pussypipeline to the Reds,
hahaha, an anachronism...
but maybe not.

"Whatever, whatever, the dorks
watch FOX while dudes read WSJ
and the DOW keeps records...
Roger Ailes makes 23M making FOX
700M, more than the others combined,
kind of says it all,"
sniffs the knowitall madone.

And Redstone is not the
daughter haters real name.

"Mr. President, sir, wakeup....
Derivatives are rational instruments
for unlocking latent value
in financial transactions
through mathematical logic...
a net value creation derived
from an underlying asset
exchanging cash flow
or equivalent assets
over time based contracts..."

"Without leverage,
the Derivative Ballroom
will have no dancers,"
echoed a voice in his mind.

It was time for Lincoln's room.

Above the Horn.

Beyond the Reef.

Inside the house.

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