I know what you’re doing. I see you over there, in your little, little chair. It looks like a fucking tripod for an old bullshit camera. You are all smug with confidence, thinking you are on the verge of creating electricity.
You have your little charts and your nice little marble paper weights, placed orderly on your mahogany desk; everything is so honkey dorey. Oh yes, you are very proud of your desk. It is made from a rare wood and it was passed down from a dead relative, which makes it even cooler/more expensive. Every night you polish it up real nice, then lay your fucking asshole charts on top of them, in preparation for the trading day ahead.
You are of the persuasion that the Federal Government is in the business of sucking the foreskin off investors, through low rates and free money. You believe everything is priced in and that the banks will not take King Kong cock sized writedowns next quarter. You think it is safe to swim in the waters, for your little fucking ruler points to a geometric pattern that indicates a “breakout.”
Your world is blissfully wonderful, and also jubilant, until (of course) Dr. Death steps into your office and urinates gasoline all over your dead relatives desk, then tosses a lit cigar onto your pile of neatly stacked queer charts.
Dr. Death brings bad news of unemployment and “fuck you, you’re dead” bankruptcies, to a variety of industries. He has the banks by the short hairs, forcing them to cut deals with delinquent borrowers, who are only 8 months late on their mortgage. These deadbeat fellows demand their banks drop the loan value by one third. Dr. Death makes it so.
He does not believe low rates do anything, since they are artificial. After all, without the communist bastards inside the U.S. government setting prices, LIBOR would be 10% by now.
Finally, he will set you free—if you would only let him into your house, so that he may “take a look” or piss at/on your finely polished mahogany desk.
Knock, knock
UPDATE: EE Times offers 20 predictions, for the semi industry, for 2009 (bulls, do not click).
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