Read My Lips ... We have This Under Control

Everyone who knows me knows I'm a financial news junkie. First thing in
the morning is the gold and silver spot prices. It ain't that I have any
holdings, it is just that metals are a barometer of the economic
conditions.

Then a quick cruise around the web to see what the talking heads are
peddling. Every day, it is green shoots, mustard seeds and some other
indicators. I recall the oil indicator on an old Pontaic Tempest I had. It
signaled low oil pressure right after the big bang and sparks.

But these people were hired for their expertise, right? Nope, unless you
catagorize expertise as encompassing stage presence and optimism.
I trust the media, NOT! The business of media is advertising. The
canned news (I'll get to it in a moment) is actually advertising to keep
you watching, listening or reading long enough to get to the money maker:
ads.

The news is collected at the news briefings. In effect, what shall we tell
the public? How do we phrase it? Ready? Okay let's do it and remember, no
questions will be answered.

"Welcome to the briefing. Blah, blah. Sorry, we don't have time to take
questions."

News briefings are NOT news. It is propaganda plain and simple.
The media has a vested interest in presenting it as news. Access and
advertising dollars.

Optimism is good just as long as it isn't bullshit. Lie to me and I will
never believe you again.

So just what are the facts?
Deficit, debt and finally death of our economy.

The root causes?
Congress and their addiction to spending our capital on votes. The Federal
Reserve Act was the tool. The voters for voting to take money out of the
public coffers for their sacred cow crap.

What's next?
Here is a fairly realistic scenario:
"The Day the Dollar Died" John Galt http://johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/11/18/the-day-the-dollar-died/

How and when will it end?
Unknown. Each possibility is dependant upon the next mistakes made. Just
as natural processes can wear a mountain down, so will time erode the mess
we freely voted for.

No sense running, you'll just be broke, tired and in unfriendly
surroundings. Nobody will accept the pretty toilet paper in your wallet.

If you don't know who John Galt is, you have my condolences.