New Year Rhymes for a New Depression

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Should auld
expenses be forgot
An’ never brought tae mind?
Should former bailouts be forgot
An’ chits the bankers signed?
          (Chorus)
          For
auld lang syne, my dear,
          It’s
oot o’ sight an’ mind,
          Let’s
aw’ forget tha’ massive debt
          An’
ignore tha’ bottom line.

When came tha’
day they said they’d pay,
They formed a lengthie line,
Where each did joke that ‘e was broke
An’ needed much more time.

Our leaders, daft, will issue drafts
When ‘ere a rich man whines,
While you, poor sot, will pay the lot
Until the end o’ time.
          (Robert
‘Third Degree’ Burns)

When Congresspersons
mention ‘bailout’
The plutocrat gets the pail out
For he knows – everything goes.
          The
money you
          Tucked
away
          For
a rainy day
          Tomorrow
goes
          To some
CEOs
          Who
compound the joke,
          Blow
it all on coke,
          And
pricey, uptown hos.
They’re on the beach,
We met their deadline
As you, freezing in the breadline,
Pick your nose – everything goes.
          (‘Bituminous
Coal’ Porter)

José,
can you see
By the dawn’s early light,
We made it to Texas
By tunneling all night.
          (Francis
Scott Off-Key)

Once I built
a hedge-fund
Then it failed out-
Right. Bloomberg called me a swine.
But a pal in Congress
Got me bailed out.
Buddy, I got your last dime.

Once I was
a broker,
Had it all, son –
Steaks were never sub-prime.
Thank God for a joker,
Name of Paulson:
Buddy, I got your last dime.
          (J.P.M.
Organ-Chase)

Half a point,
half a point,
Half a point downward,
Into the jaws of death,
Rode the S&P 500;

Set aside sense
and dread,
Hail to the noble Fed!
Hear what Bernanke said – Nothing’s been plundered.

Slash interest
rates and get
Deeper than deepest debt,
Spend ever more, but yet
Prices get sundered.

Then start
the printing press
Just to inflate the mess
Worse than you feared to guess,
Our days are numbered.

Hail to the
Fed Brigade!
Decades-long mess it made,
And turned to marmalade,
The S&P 500.
          (Alfred,
Lord Elevenson)

S. J. Masty
is a communication advisor based in London. His Time Machine column
runs in The Washington Examiner each Wednesday.

Reprinted from The Washington
Examiner
with permission.

December
31, 2008

S.J. Masty
[send him mail] is a communications
advisor based in London. His column runs in The Washington Examiner
each Wednesday.

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