Maggie's Farm

There's a monotonous feel to the interaction between the stock market and government these days. A government hack says something dumb, and the market tumbles. The only adult left in the room, Ben Bernanke, will appear in some forum and talk a little sense. First the market stabilizes, and then jumps. Lather, rinse, repeat. Then every once in a while, the big kahuna of them all, Studs Urkel Obama, opens his yap and everyone with even a sock full of pennies heads for the exits. It's like clockwork.

Yesterday was only one in a raft of examples of this dynamic. Bernanke appears on Sixty Minutes, the market's riding on multiple consecutive days of big gains, likely fueled solely on shellshocked investor optimism that there's enough stability to preclude their money being subject to a kind of three-card-monte oopsie the next day. The DJIA is up 200+ by midday and it looked like maybe people might start to think it's dangerous not to be in the market. Then at noon a picture of Little Timmy and President Urkel running their mouths about AIG appears on Drudge and the market gives up three percent in two hours. Little Timmy Geithner has fallen into the Treasury well, and Lassie is dead. President Urkel can't even be in over his head, because he's never even been to the pool. He literally knows nothing about being an executive. Here's some advice for the dynamic duo: AIG deals in counterparty risk. The counterparties listen to you too.

It's the executive branch, you know. He's the chief executive. And it's his first executive position. It shows. President Urkel went live yesterday, and he complained. Whined, actually. He made an impotent gesture, talking about how someone should do something about those bonuses they dole out at AIG. Or he was going to do something, except he can't. Well, he said something, I'm not quite sure what, and neither was he. The US government owns 80% of AIG, and the chief executive of the US whined like a recently promoted secretary still asked to make coffee. He could do anything he wanted. But he did what all bad executives do: He tried to leave his castle with a pitchfork and join the mob and yell at the spot he used to be standing in. It doesn't work that way.

If President Urkel knew the first thing about being an executive, he'd know that you only whine up the ladder. You never whine to your underlings. They whine to you, you whine to your boss, and so forth. There is no "up" where you are, Mr. President. You're the Decider, now, remember? You asked for the job. That's why Nixon roamed the halls and talked to the pictures of dead people. They're your only colleagues now.

Be quiet, or do something. My advice is the former, because you seem to have no clue about the latter.