Since the mood has been so somber lately, I thought a feeble attempt at a humourous interlude might be the best way to close off the day.

Envision Bernanke, Paulson et al in a recent meeting using the words of various poets such as Tennyson, Eliot, Lear.

B (Bernanke) P (Paulson) GW (Bush) GT (Gartman)

B: “Sunset and the evening star,

And one clear call for me

And may there be no moaning of the (gold) bar

When I put paper out to sea”

P: “Let s go then, you and I,

When the markets are spread out against the sky,

Like a patient etherized upon a table”

B: “But such a tide as moving seems asleep

To full for sound and foam,

Let’s wave a lot and make some noise,

And paper every home.”

P: “Let us go through half-deserted streets….

Of subprime tempted treats,

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent.”

While GW mused to himself:

“They sailed away in a sieve they did,

In a sieve they went to sea,

The water soon came in, it did;

The water it soon came in.

So, to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet,

In fiat paper all folded neat.”

GT: “Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,

And many goodly states and kingdoms seen.

But I’ve been stopped out when I was too bold,

And my inside tips were not quite clean.”