Excuse me, as I was at the beach today, strolling as a lolligagger up and down white sand, pressed against by bright sun and an endless sea; two forces in a forever-struggle waving back and forth.

Perchance had it that I came upon Mr. R W Pelican, to whom well wishes were given.

I see today that the market melted higher. My positions did to, with exception to the new EUO position, and CLP for some (lack of) reason.

In another few weeks, if we haven’t corrected, then more EUO will be bought, and more stock will be sold. This is a leisurely process, as the atmosphere is one of triumph, with no pressing concerns, much like my day.

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What a grand morning it is. The Michigan temperature is freezing, but there is no snow in the Southeast. Moisture from breath swirls into flurries as quickly as you can exhale. It exerts the heart upon leaving the house, giving oneself that glorious pressure that reminds you you’re alive.

Mrs. Thaler and myself have a calm weekend planned. I think we will go to the club with some friends for a brunch on Sunday. Tomorrow she has planned to drag me around the ring cities.

As for business this week, it was stupendous. My account has rocketed higher from the last week in December. My gains at the end of 2012 were mild – double digits but disappointing, as I required ~25% gains to correct for the 2011 losses.

2013 is off to a much better start. I have made so much in the past two weeks that breaking out towards my old highs is well within my grasp. It all hinges on CCJ. If CCJ can recover this year then I will be making new all-time highs.

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Hands down, the most frustrating aspect of investing for me is buying into a solid, proverbial gold mine, only to discover that the current shareholder base are conviction-less cowards tripping over themselves to undermine what’s in the company’s best interests.

Unfortunately, it’s these very situations that tend to prove the most profitable, because there’s a never ending shortage of frightened shares coming to market, which can be scooped up over prolonged periods of time for bottom-low prices.

When I find myself in positions where I have no spare cash, though, these deserters shaking my boat are a source of furry.

Take for instance, BAS. The stock cannot seem to find its legs, because every time it makes a push over $12, a flood of sell orders comes from somewhere in the backfield. Why? Oh well because shareholders are just so worried about the next quarter of numbers.

Here’s the thing. We already know how the next quarter of numbers will look – awful. And the stock’s still cheap. Now shut up, calm down, and grow a back bone.

Another keen example would be CCJ. The stock gets blasted every few months by a wave of fleeing children masquerading as shareholders, because the uranium market has not instantly completely recovered. Comically, we’ve hit the point where every analysis on uranium is finally admitting that it’s way undervalued and due for a strong rebound.

So what’s the problem? Oh, well “when” that rebound occurs could be this year, or sometime over the next several.

Am I missing something here? The rebound is going to double uranium miners, at least. Most of you fund managers are lucky to average 5% annually. What’s the problem here?

I’m going to end my morning rant on that note. The summary is: a stock’s biggest threat usually comes from within, by double-dealing company owners trying to outsmart the rest of the company stock, usually to their incompetent failings.

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Petty mortals – what did thou believe otherwise?

Did thee not know the Bernanke of Benjamin had come?

Whas’t thou – o’ pariah – of little faythe?

Suffer now, immeasurably, by the hands of our benevolent dictators.

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I lucked out. Like a crazed masochist, I entered today fully long, parading around in public, for all the world to see. Last week, I lamented at having ever believed the fiscal cliff could be resolved.

For most of this year, I cast aspersions on the fiscal cliff, and publicly ridiculed anyone who talked about it. I mocked the believers; and last week, I fell to my knees and crawled towards them, begging for forgiveness. We were going over that fucking cliff, and I was a vile wretch.

But, for some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to raise cash. Instead, I begged for the beating, just asking for it.

Only faith saved me from passing up these illustrious gains. Faith in the destructive power of $1 trillion free dollars. And faith that real problems can’t actually be voted away.

So here we are. I’ve picked myself up and will begin pretending like I never doubted. With these early gains (average positioning seems up 2% or more), I’d like to see you try and prove otherwise.

Let the taunting of the unfortunate commence.

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Every year, I get suckered into making New Year resolutions for myself. The truth is, before I began writing for all of you, I never bothered with these quaint idiosyncrasies.

But I let myself get drawn into the habit, mostly because it’s a ritual everyone else seems to enjoy.

Enough!

No more of your melancholy guilt tripping. I hereby resolve to never resolve myself to any “New Year Betterment” ever again. You can take your quest for personal and global improvement and shove it.

I have since realized that New Year resolutions are actually the cause of all the world’s problems.

It begins when one of you cretin tries to fix your own flaws. And, after failing miserably, it ends with you trying to fix everyone elses – through legislation. You know, as a warm up to fixing your own…

It seems like most of you actively trying to make the world a better place are managing quite beside yourselves to make it a worse one.

Well I for one will not stand for this any longer. THAT, friends, is called being part of the solution…by not trying to be a part of the solution.

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Alright, it’s almost 11 am. I’ve been patient; checking elements of the market, getting a feel for things, looking at the state of affairs.

The Christmas Rally ™ is happening. We’re going higher.

I don’t care about the fiscal cliff. Frankly, I wish the media outlets that coined this term would start printing bumper stickers and selling them next to “Shit Happens” “WWJD” and “Kerry/Edwards”. Fuck the fiscal cliff.

Uncle Ben Bernanke is dropping $100 billion this December, making sure present’s rain from the skies. Santa and his breaking-and-entering ways are being sponsored by the Federal Reserve this year kids. And when you open that new iPhone, preloaded with Fed Spending-and-Tracking software, you’re going to be so stoked, I promise you’ll forget all about the $200 bucks you’re about to lose in annual taxes.

Who are you fucking kidding, buddy? Every one of us knows you’re a drunk who was going to spend more than that in bars. I bet you piss more than that away racing your fucking Harley around the countryside every summer. Or that speedboat.

I know you, my fellow Americans. Don’t play coy with me. I grew up surrounded by union, blue collar relatives. You play broke, bitch about everyone, then finish up your lectures as you walk out the door to go pack before your latest cruise to God-knows-where.

We’re going over the fiscal cliff. And it’s not going to change a thing. The only difference is your $20,000 a year jackass is going to have to surrender dreams of buying up to that Cadillac SRX Crossover, continuing instead to drive around the older, less awesome Cadillac Luxury SUV, because he won’t have enough after factoring in food stamps and low income housing to push up his loan payments any more. He’ll just have to continue sinking his entire paycheck into a lavish, secret lifestyle, and maybe – “God forbid” – buy down.

Ben is dropping $1 trillion into markets this year. And I don’t believe for a second the middle class can’t afford an extra few hundred bucks a year. I’ve seen the frivolous shit they buy, to this very day.

We’re going higher, until Europe derails us again.

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