The Dollar Wins

As I sit erect and triumphant in my office chair, palms down and grasping the wood in resolution, I cannot help but smile.

You were forewarned that my elite were marching out beneath the banner of the 9th floor. Not to be distracted by pretty flowers or singing children, they ignored this bounce as if it were the devil himself, and instead continued diligently along the path of the dollar.

As they quick stepped in full gear, they came across your camp, hugging trees and embracing this rally. They took no pity on you.

They cut you up.

The act of them slaughtering you in this midday reversal will not retard their pace in the slightest. They will regroup and redouble their efforts, continuing their plunge through disgruntled bull camps and setting the homes of widows on fire.

The next step shall see crude oil back in the $70’s, as those of you betting on Clam baths and Chicago politics get trampled beneath the mighty boots of my forces. What you fail to acknowledge is that, for the moment, Bernanke is standing firm behind me, egging my men on; urging them to kill you.

Your death is phase one of the New Stimulus, after all.

Fetch me my war tent.