Fed for the people, chasing Bennie's steeple, gathereth the reapers.

'As we have been asserting, the FED continues to apply QE, despite it official announcement that Q.E 1.0 ended two quarters ago. For the week ended on Wednesday, the Fed balance sheet increased $9.358B due to the monetization of $7.390B of Treasury notes and an increase of $2.248B of 'assets denominated in foreign currencies' (footnote #13; currency swaps?)'
-The King Report, Issue 3856, October 8,2010

...He that gathereth not with me scattereth...
- Matthew 12:30

Faced with the surplus eaters rubbing sus ojos Bernanke had to fire up the psych ops jets after the Jackholios shrimpfest.

The Diving Might of Wizards again on display, gangbanging the string framed as many easings away, the levers of debasement screened whilst shadowfoxing the fray, all in the blind hope that we can avoid anchors aweigh.

"Bennie-boy, whaddaya say there pal of mine ?"

"You know Mr. Market, I've been watching you.
And I know you've been watching me.
You watch me! I know!"

"So, Bennie, what are you gettin' at?"

"Mr. Market, my friend!
How would you like to pump me up the curve?"

"I know you wanna pump me, Market!"

"And you know that I know that you know
that I know that you wanna pump me!"

"Now I'm gonna leverage up,
and when I do, start pumpin'!"

And yet there is dissension in the chattering class of Nancy Capitalists, who with their chalice of confidence half-empty, parry like duck and rabbit.

'Fiscal Stimulus! Monetary Stimulus!'

'Fiscal Stimulus! Monetary Stimulus!'

'Monetary Stimulus!'

Pause

'Fiscal Stimulus!'

Verily they are all despicable. The struggle of virtue and vice is writ large as the debate between deflationistas and debasionistas. The former pines for reason before farce, the latter embraces the tragedy.

The Oracle at Eccles contemplating Rallye's mend at Recession's end scratch that Depression's bend.

To QE, or not to QE: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the markets to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to halt QE against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end the rally?

To short: to buy;
No more; and by buy to say we end
The heart-burn of the thousand little trades
That this office is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.

The butterfly wings of the banksters reflected back by the synarchy of the squatters reflected back by the imperfection of collateral liens reflected back by the political palliative of misdirection through scapegoating.

Now is the splinter of our disconnect
Made glorious summer by this sun of Ben;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of our equity buried.

At this point at the end of the trend - 2009 low besting the 2002 low breaking a line of lower lows from 1897 up- our prosperity is now in the hands of Fleck's battle of unarmed combatants (currencies) where the U.S. is the dealer (reserve), at least for the near term.

It is not so much a race to the bottom as it is a pace to a bottom. QE2 can't sail until Euroland hits the rocks again. We can't let their upcoming crisis go to waste.

In choosing 'prophetic' models with a track record of failure we are mortgaging the ability to be masters of our fate. To foresee a future that rhymes with a past is not, as the pablum narrative whines, to refute self-determination but ironically such recognition would harness the same to shape the unknown to a more benevolent conclusion.

Deficits do matter, belief in a random deliverance is foolish, better to accept a mandatory across the board cut and employ a fair and flat tax.

Free market statistics that are transparent and real allow the free market to allocate resources productively and intelligently.

Creative destruction is the progenitor and the instigator of the wealth creating mechanism of capitalism.

Empires are not eternal. The hard fought blessings of liberty are secured by the prudent not the profligate.

Years from now all this, and most assuredly more, will be obvious and this chapter in history, marked by excesses and folly, will be seen as similar to the ones preceding.

Fed for the people, chasing Bennie's steeple, gathereth the reapers.

We will kick the can until the can kicks us.

"Bennie-boy, whaddaya say there pal of mine ?"