a couple interesting charts

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if you're anything like me, you know how risky and uncertain playing the market can be--how, with the infinite number of variables constantly in play, it's impossible to pitch a perfect game for more than a few days in a row, right?

yeah well, you obviously don't work for the big boys.

consider for a moment the following chart from page 121 of goldman sach's 10-Q for first quarter 2010.

the columns to the left of the red arrow [which i've added for your viewing convenience] represent negative (i.e., money-losing) days for goldman during the 63 trading days of the quarter; whereas the columns to the right of the red arrow...

h/t zerohedge

in case you don't believe your eyes, allow me to break it down for you:

• on seven of those 63 days, goldman made between $25 and $50 million;
• on five of those 63 days, goldman made between $50 and $75 million;
• on 16 of those 63 days, goldman made between $75 and $100 million; and
• on 35 of those 63 days, goldman made $100 million or more.

and on how many days in Q1 '10, with all the market's ups and downs, did goldman lose money?  why, not a single one.  you wanna calculate the random statistical probability of 63 straight days of high-volume high profitability in a row, go ahead, but you're gonna need a calculator with decimal places into the quadrillions.

jpmorgan's chart in their 10-Q for the same period is much more efficient--they don't even bother wasting space on empty negative columns (and the pretty purple's nice, too):

you get it, right?  the american stock and bond markets have devolved into nothing more than a rigged, no-risk playground for the big bankers funded by as much zero-interest money from the fed as they can grab, and they're not even bothering to pretend to have bad days anymore--they know this is the endgame, and they're taking everything off the table they can before the casino goes dark, aided and abetted in their brazen, bulletproof arrogance by the full faith and credit of the government of the united states of america.

anybody out there willing to put down their remotes long enough to grab a torch and a pitchfork?  nah, didn't think so.

burning down the house

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remember back in the fall of 2008 when things were really scary-bad here and it looked like we were headed for a meltdown and all it took was a couple trillion dollars' worth of TARP money and other fiscal nonsense to provide the world with almost two years' worth of phony assurance that the US was on the road to recovery?

well, when things finally got equally scary-bad for europe this past week and germany was forced to resort to the same desperate ploy, instead of the breathing room i'm sure they thought they were buying, the false euphoria only lasted for a day.  apparently, everybody's finally gotten wise.

if you're unclear about what all this means, here's the best assessment i've seen of the european bailout fiasco, from one of the smartest, most prescient (and profitable) hedge fund managers out there, in a letter he wrote today to his fund's investors.  a sample quote:

Germany weakened itself as it has now abandoned the core bargain of the Euro (which was that they would never be responsible for another country’s debt) by opting to be the largest guarantor of a new loan program that essentially makes European countries jointly and severally liable for emergency funds for the worst fiscal offenders in the EU. It has begun a process of ceding its fiscal sovereignty to the over-indulgent countries.

what's worse than falling on your sword and committing national suicide?  doing it for nothing, that's what.

read the whole letter--it's short, sweet and to-the-point.

ode to the sweetest lil' truck there ever was

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as i detailed her for the last time today--ran my soapy sponge lovingly over every battle scar i'd carelessly inflicted upon her once-pristine sheetmetal, eradicated the last traces of spilled coke, melted chocolate and dropped ketchup-drenched french fries from her interior, thought about every angry, tire-screeching acceleration around every slow-moving asshole who'd ever dared impede my path--i contemplated the flawless, doglike devotion and pure, simple pleasure this humble little truck has given me in return.

i've never been careful when it comes to my vehicles, and god knows i was harder on this one than most; to this day, i can't remember where that first ding came from--i just looked up one day and there it was

and god, was i pissed.  but damage to a new car is like murder--once you get past that first one, it gets easier.

the next one, i halfway remember [i.e., i know i did it, i just don't remember the details]:

the one after that i remember clearly, if for no other reason than because it was a two-parter:  first, inflicting the initial minor damage by backing into a bollard at the 7-11 at olympic and la cienega

and then, furious at myself, peeling away and in the process of so doing, burning a significant amount of rubber off the rear tires whilst simultaneously tearing the bumper half off the damn truck in order to get free [and yes, alcohol may or may not have been involved].

the last one--from trying to park up under a tree and getting a little too close--might be due to simple carelessness, or maybe just my innate need for symmetry

whatever; outta all the vehicles i've ever owned in my semi-long life--and i'm talking a wide variety, including any number of high-end german ubermachines--this humble little '05 tacoma prerunner has unquestionably been the best of the bunch.

after almost six years and 70,000 miles of hard use [and with the exception of the minor damage outlined above], damn thing's still good as new:  tight and solid, engine still strong, paint glossy as ever, interior still perfect, never a single mechanical problem, ever.

of course it never even for a moment occurred to me to have any of the above shit fixed; on the contrary, coming as i do from a part of the country where people with "nice" pickups are dismissed as pussies, i consider each blemish a badge of honor.

hopefully her new owner will feel the same way.

program note

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blog sucks lately, and i apologize--dreary posts and unanswered comments abound.  what can i say, i'm not in a good space these days.

and not for the reason you might think--i start my new job next week, so no worries there [unless the background-check folks find this blog, of course].

no--the sad truth is, mkf does not handle big stretches of unstructured time well.

i can sorta come close to imagining what normal people with the capacity to enjoy shit would do if they suddenly found themselves at loose ends in sunny southern california with a month of free time between gigs and a big pocket full o' severance cash--but only barely.

me?  it just gave me more time to brood, consult my doomsday indicators and shake my head in helpless wonder at all my oblivious fellow americans out there happily walking around spending money and living their lives as if the world as they've always known it isn't about to end.

oh, yeah--and more time to drink.

problem is, these days the vodka's not producing the kinda high-quality posts it could once be reliably counted on to dredge up outta my twisted psyche, so i'm thinking there's only one healthy way to deal with this alcoholic dead end:

switch to tequila.

i'll let you know how that goes.

why i pay no attention to the mainstream media

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two weeks ago:

today:

awhile back, a regular reader took me to task for my alarmist, harebrained views and suggested i might want to look to more "respected" sources for my news.

like the one above, faithful reader?  god only knows how many poor saps were lured back into the market by that cheery, calculated, corporate-sponsored drivel--just in time for the fleecing.

this one's for anybody out there who's still unclear about whether or not the terrorists have won

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see that big, pretty building up there with all those steps leading up its majestic entrance?

for 75 years, petitioners of the supreme court of the united states of america have boldly and freely trod those marble steps, passed between the eight mighty columns supporting an architrave upon which is carved "equal justice for all," and entered through its tall bronze doors that most exalted and sacrosanct chamber of american jurisprudence.

yeah well, no more--the front doors of our national court have now been sealed; henceforth, if you're a civilian who wishes to enter this building, you'll have to take off your shoes, empty your pockets, hunch your shoulders and cravenly sneak through an ignominious, newly-constructed [but oh-so-safe] side entrance.

kudos to justices ginsburg and breyer for being the only two on the court with the cojones to oppose this atrocity--and, while i'm at it, kudos to the state of israel for long ago demonstrating to the modern world its understanding that the possibility of occasional civilian bloodshed is a small price for a nation to pay in order to retain its freedom.

confessions of a conspiracy theorist

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back when i was a sophomore in high school, somebody handed me a taylor caldwell bestseller entitled captains and the kings, a sweeping historical saga notable not merely because it was a damned good read, but, more importantly, because this single, seminal book exposed the young, impressionable mind of mkf for the first time to the idea of a shadow government behind all the show-governments everybody thinks run the world.

it was fantastic:  this fantastically-talented woman painted eloquent word pictures of smoky drawing rooms full of rich bankers--she daringly called them "the committee of foreign relations"--casually deciding the start dates and durations of world wars, revolutions and financial crises, all with the ultimate and eventual goal of one world government ruled by--guess who?  the bankers.

while i loved the book, i mostly dismissed its politics as batshit-crazy and moved on to bigger and better things--but, try as i might, i couldn't forget it.

a few years later, an incomparably superb professor of american history would hold my freshman college class spellbound as he explained in great, dispassionate detail how a young british naval intelligence officer named winston churchill engineered the german sinking of the lusitania in order to draw the united states into world war I.


and then 25 years later, as prime minister of great britain, this same guy would assist franklin roosevelt in instigating the japanese attack on pearl harbor--allowing just enough damage to the american fleet, but not too much--that would draw the united states into world war II.


 but i digress.

and then, over the next 38 years, i've sat back and watched as, one by one, pretty much every one of ms. caldwell's batshit-crazy predictions have come to pass.

for those of you who still don't get what's happening, i offer up the following recent headline:

the above was a buried story, nowhere to be found in the mainstream american press [and if you don't know what the european central bank is, it's basically their equivalent of the american federal reserve bank.  and if you don't know what the council on foreign relations is, go back up and read the second paragraph of this post--and then you might wanna do a little googling].

scary thing is, these bastards aren't even trying to hide their global ambitions anymore.

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drunken update:  this one wasn't anywhere near ready for prime time, but, as sometimes happens when i'm really shitfaced, i hit the wrong button and rss did the rest.  i hope it at least halfway makes sense--god knows i'm in no condition to know.