Drink Up....

Missmarketcrash has been returned to dear old London after an eight hour car journey and is very very pleased to be back.  The New Year is just around the corner and, with that, it is time to look forward with humor and general bonhomie.  In the meantime, here is a little chart to remind us what is being left behind...

Drink up and I'll find something lovely to send you for your hangovers tomorrow.

(chart courtesy of marketwatch)

The End of The Year...

The end of the year...Missmarketcrash cannot bear to follow the norm and present her dear readers with an examination the past year and the expected predicting of what will be in the incoming. The looking back bit is usually filled with a cozy nostalgia, a bit of human tragedy, a joke or two, and someone or something commercially successful (which would almost always only be appealing to someone who was either in love with mediocrity, or, had a camp sense of the world). In other words, a lot of mundane obviousness would greet your eyes. The looking forward part is usually not rocket science - merely a confirmation of trends already established. Another thing Missmarketcrash knows you would love to read, but, it really would not offer What We Are All Looking For. I presume tomorrow's media will look backward with a heady mixture of fear and optimism, but, the looking forward bit will prove a bit more difficult.

The End Of The Year sounds much more ominous that it did in the past. I think we all know that things that have been occuring this year are scheduled to carry on and perhaps frighten us a bit more in the New Year. So, all the looking forward usually done on New Year as a new dawn/new beginning seems to be cancelled this year.

(...long pause...you are now inside your head rather than mine...)

Apologies for offering nothing more than a bit of silence - though silence is one of those things that can be very very positive and refreshing...even innovative.

Especially after spending a week with the in-laws.

Tis the season...

Everyone has a Christmas memory that floats up with good feeling every year. For Missmarketcrash, that feeling has always been looking forward to doing a bit of charity. Bringing in canned goods, making crafts to sell, all the lovely smells of Christmas are consistently haunted by that smell of the elderly pee in the nursing home...

With all the charitable donations the U.S. government seems to be making - to the cars, to citibank, and, now, to GMAC and so on - the spirit of giving continues.

The Queen has just delivered her annual Christmas speech and seems to be on the same tangent as the American Government. Let's push Missmarketcrash's irony aside for a moment and remember...time, clothing, money, even good cheer -- whatever you've a bit extra of...donate a little for charity -the giving will bring you merriment.

There are...

Hard times can be good times for monsters in films. Dracula, Jeckyl and Hyde, King Kong and Frankenstein all made film appearances during the Great Depression. So, let's invent a monster film. How about a dark pool character? A murky shape-shifting thing that grows and grows in size because it has an unsatiable greedy appetite. Perhaps things in its way become enmeshed and encorporated within it, until the dark thing blocks all the light in the world. It is lonely and groaning and does not want to be so large. It actually has a friendly side, and, our hero recognises that feature. So - who or what is the hero??

Several cross plots appear at this point. There are the Ghost-Sisters, laden with bling who appear at every "expansion" of the dark thing and sing a little ditty. There are the Big Buildings, the animated unfinished structures that are having a race across the desert landscape a la mad max style that break down and decay along the way. There is also an environmental angle - tiny little animated particles periodically die little deaths and dance away leaving little patches of smog behind that the dark thing feeds on like chocolates. Finally, there are the parental-figures, one who-oh-so-obviously is modeled on missmarketcrash, and there are, of course, two heroic children who deflate the dark thing and befriend his miniature side, reshaping him into something charitable, a giver rather than a taker...

And there are people that can write this without saying there are. Merry Christmas.

Dark Pools...

Missmarketcrash has a new favorite phrase this evening - Dark Pools. Gosh...almost as good as a Philip K. Dick novel, Missmarketcrash is happy to report that "Turquoise is considering linking dark pools". Or some such thing. I am hoping you have taken that all as poetically as I have, with visions of said "dark pools" located somewhere in the clear Caribbean, and some kind of life force, likely some kind of quant-non-human, is finding the need to network said murky depths.

It is all about liquidity and secrecy but sadly, has nothing to do with the Caribbean. Dark pools are somewhat like dark matter - the presence and size of dark pools can be inferred by effects on visible aspects of the market, but, they remain hidden. Dark matter is known to make up more of the universe than the visible part. And what about dark pools? What equities are in them, and, what are they worth?

Turquoise is an equities trading platform backed by a group of large investment banks. The linking of dark pools is interesting - will such linking provide an understanding of the mass of dark pools out there to a chosen few within the Turquoise universe? Or will it act to keep it a murky mystery to all outside? Or both? Or neither?

Missmarketcrash admits her understanding of Dark Pools and such is clearly twisted by the interference of the rich fictive fantasy element in her head. But they must have been named that for the same reason.

Here in Glasgow...

"Complex, tightly wound and generally impressive" began the review of a champagne in the FT this weekend. I ought to know better than to try to read or write whilst sitting under the daughter-in-law spotlight. I am certain that the above description of drink would be how my mother-in-law would describe me. I've been on a cornocopia of champagne since arrival as really, my mother-in-law would really like me to fall down drunk and proclaim the answer to her most curious question - "just how much have you lost Missmarketcrash?"

Glasgow is not the place to feel sorry for yourself financially. The grit and hardship hits you in the face upon arrival and hovers around like an awkward family member. I think it is one of the bleakest places in the universe sometimes.

Some of the more notable economists are focusing a lot of analysis of this financial crisis, and past ones, on psychology. Consumer sentiment does have a card to play in a consumer-driven economy. Glasgow reflects that contribution in a nutshell, with vast tracts of bombed out housing estates dressed up in christmas bling, flashing away, with hope, and, fear.

Hope, fear, hope, fear, blinking on and off.

Can someone let the lighting designer in charge of the current crisis know that a bit more sparkle might go a long way?

Holly Jolly

Tis the season of parties and quails eggs and bankers and other delicious things.  Tonight's party had all of the above and lots of lovely young things pouring and passing.  The conversation was all on the topside and the world was looking lovely and rosy to all.  It was positively jolly and bursting with bona fide joie de vivre.  Missmarketcrash wants to bottle the evening and spray it all over herself and everyone in the world for the rest of the holidays and beyond.

Stop laughing.  I do really mean all that.

Bonus Time....

Quick note - the bonuses are being doled out and - top prize goes to Credit Suisse -

They are giving toxic asset bonuses!  Indeed...the illiquid assets are being pooled and a "Partner Assets Facility" is being formed.  How creative!

Word has it the bankers are livid....

Auch Aye...

Missmarketcrash is headed to bonnie bonnie Scotland for Christmas.  Whilst in the wilds of the highlands and lowlands I will be writing with a pen and a glass of whisky.  When I return, I shall tell you all.  I will try and post some quick notes from time to time, especially if there is any news of note, but, well, it is holiday time so postings may be sparse for the next 10 days.

Kind Regards, Missmarketcrash

Adieu

Missmarketcrash has just bid adieu to the au pair.  Back home to Sweden she goes, forever.  We've never experienced having an au pair that was not a great chum, a friends forever kind of gal.  In fact, presents and cards and things from our great and good past au pairs have been arriving daily this week.  But, this au pair will not be sending any cards, or checking in.  

And it leaves Missmarketcrash filled with one-hundred different feelings and thoughts.  Overall, a flat empty sadness.  

And a busy schedule.  

The American Dream...

The radio played softly in the background but its sound was progressively being drowned out by the ticking of the clock on the dashboard.  She could no longer look straight ahead and listen, so, she turned her head to look out the window.  Outside, house after house after house paraded by, all the same.  Three variations in door color, garage on the left, garage on the right. Small shaped evergreens and trees passed by at a different speed as they were closer. When that happened it was just black, a longer black than expected, followed by the world slowly sliding back into the frame before being buffeted aside by another hit of blackness.  He had stopped talking and was just driving.

That is the point Missmarketcrash woke up.  Now what?  Val is back. We've got a ticking clock (time or a tell-tale heart?), the man-who-was-talking-has-stopped-talking (now who on earth could this man be?), suburbia (gosh-at least Val is somewhere - she was nowhere in the last dream), and she is still in the car.  My thoughts think she is in America, it is a time thing, and umm...a mysterious-man-appearing-in-dreams is ultimately more appealing in the abstract so...let your thoughts wander.

Dry Your Eyes mate...

John Maynard Keynes phoned Missmarketcrash this morning and has kindly agreed to guest blog today given the amount of desperate data that flowed out of America yesterday.  If you are a non-Keynesian or a German fear not - his words will resonate no matter what the angle of your outlook is.  If you read it carefully, it is almost uplifting.  The metaphorical "morning" in the text is still a bit of rhetoric....he has clearly mistook the human race for a strain of long-term-hibernating-polar-bears....

  

John Maynard Keynes writing in "The Great Slump of 1930"....

"The world has been slow to realize that we are living this year in the shadow of one of the greatest economic catastrophes of modern history.  But now that the man in the street has become aware of what is happening, he, not knowing the why and wherefore, is as full to-day of what may prove excessive fears as, previously, when the trouble was first coming on, he was lacking in what would have been a reasonable anxiety.  He begins to doubt the future.  Is he now awakening from a pleasant dream to face the darkness of facts?  Or dropping off into a nightmare which will pass away?

He need not be doubtful.  The other was not a dream.  This is a nightmare, which will pass away with the morning.  For the resources of nature and men's devices are just as fertile and productive as they were.  The rate of our progress towards solving the material problems of life is not less rapid.  We are as capable as before of affording for everyone a high standard of life - high, I mean, compared with, say, twenty years ago - and will soon learn to afford a standard higher still.  We were not previously deceived.  But to-day we have involved ourselves in a colossal muddle, having blundered in the control of a delicate machine, the working of which we do not understand.  The result is that our possibilities of wealth may run to waste for a time - perhaps for a long time."

....c'mon.  Dry your eyes mate.  Cue song.  I bet The Streets could set that all into a nice little ditty....

"They spend too much time thinking"...

The video of Bernard Madoff at the Philoctetes Center is stunning...take a jaunt over to Tzvee's Talmudic Blog to view - scroll down to the Dec. 15th entry...there are some seriously funny moments...and, if you are pressed for time - the first 20 minutes are the best and the rest is worth skipping.  Lastly, try not to get too distracted by the man with the nervous trousers sitting in back of Mr. Madoff....

I'll be off the blog tomorrow - so this is tomorrow's offering posted today -

More on Hollywood....

Reality check is in order.  Where are we?  And where would we like to be?  The idea of a brokerage firm selling hollywood movie futures is so spectacularly interesting at this moment.  Why invest in real companies?  Why not bet upon a bit of reality shifting material?  If one can buy a CDS on the US Government, why not Hollywood?  Hollywood seems much more credible at the moment.  And real.  And necessary.  With the coming Gloom and Doom, why, we need entertainment more than anything.  

Because it is not right.  We need to untangle any industry from the financial sector as clearly as it can be done.  There is no point in rendering everything disfunctional (and prone to fraud?) by attaching it to the great entangled financial universe in such a way that is being proposed by the Hollywood futures idea.  I am certain that in its time it seemed a jolly idea -- in fact, it was modeled on a folly.  The Hollywood Stock Exchange already exists and has been trading in virtual dollars for years.  A good honest bit of fun, rather than the parasite it would become if it were dealing in real money.  But gosh...if it could become an honest folly and devote a portion of profits to charity - like healthcare for the screen writers guild or something?  Missmarketcrash might like the idea again...

And way off topic - did you know there was an earthquake in Sweden today?

Hollywood Futures...

Missmarketcrash had a flash of inspiration this weekend to go shopping at Canary Wharf.  Canary Wharf is aptly named these days - it is indeed full of canaries and somewhat like a coal mine. There is a great vast mall buried beneath the towering offices currently home to most of the financial companies in London.  One enters said mall by whizzing around an underground roundabout that really does look like the Saddest-Place-On-Earth featuring little tunnels that spoke off of it.  It is pretty unclear where all these little paths lead, and most do appear to lead to nowhere.  After taking a full spin around and surveying the non-options, I entered the one that seemed to lead to a parking garage.  Where I was greeted by a security guard.  The security guard grinned and took one of those little bomb sniffing handheld devices out and ran it over my steering wheel and car door handles before waving me on.  A small flashback to my Sept. 11th moments in NYC drifted by and then hung overhead.  With my two small boys in tow I entered the mall which was a confusing array of paths leading nowhere just like the roundabout.  But Joy.  Canary Wharf was doing all kinds of nice activities for the children to draw in the shoppers and had some great things on offer.  We started by decorating some eco-shopper cloth bags with paint and lovely sparkly things.  Whilst we were doing this, two nice security men with a bomb sniffing dog circled around us so the boys could pet the dog.   The cloud overhead started to throb.  We dutifully carried on and did some shopping.  I quelled the claustrophobic underground thing enough to have a pretty jolly time with all the elves who ran up to the boys and passed out sweets and biscuits and kind banter.  Almost fun.

When we returned home (alive thank goodness), our neighbor who had just fired 80 people and works at Canary Wharf was standing outside.  He hopped on top of my inky cloud and I carried him (metaphorically - he is enormous) inside with my shopping.  I shoved the days experience into a dark corner where it mulled around a bit like a failed hollywood movie.  And then I opened the FT.  "All eyes on Hollywood futures" was the headline under a picture of some shocked looking cartoon animals.  I felt faint and blinked.  But the headline remained and the cartoon animals stared back at me.  Film Derivatives???

Can I write the movie about it first?

Uberwirtschaft revisited...

Uberwirtschaft is a pleasing word to slide off the tongue.  It reminds Missmarketcrash of some kind of hard treat with whipped cream all over it sold in an old fashioned seaside sweet shop.  Filled with pleasure and nostalgia and some kind of timeless packaging Uberwirtschaft has mouthwatering appeal.  It is also a useful word in that its meaning can be determined by its use in a kind of Wittgensteinian fashion.  

In relation to the Car TARP Thing Uberwirtschaft can reflect many things.  Reflecting on an American way of understanding the word, Bush can be said to be trying to be Mr. Uberwirtschaft - some kind of Economics Superhero swooping down in his cape to scoop up the cars and save the day.  A second way of looking at Uberwirtschaft in relation to the Car Thing is with the idea that these measures can solve things imply the measures themselves are Uberwirtschaft.  

Now...we know neither to be the case, so, Missmarketcrash is now going out to finish her Christmas Shopping.

Uberwirtschaft

Missmarketcrash is terribly excited today because she is casting aside all worries (actually I am petrified) of Bernard L. Madoff's GIANT PONZI SCHEMES and the Car Thing to see Child number 1's school Christmas performance.  He is a German Tree.  Should be interesting.  I might add that we are in London.  Thankfully, the forward-looking state school is putting on a performance about the British and Germans casting aside differences on a Christmas Day during World War I to join together for a game of football.  And my son, the star, is a German Tree singing Stille Nacht.  How timely and appropriate after the bit in the news regarding the German finance minister and his statements.  After having a German au pair in the house once, I can only say that Germans are very direct and say what they think.  British people do not.  I can understand the Germans feeling a bit nihilistic about it all, and, thinking (aloud as they do) - "gosh that is silly - that will never work!"  Which is fair enough, but, diplomacy is more than in order these days and such things might be better off uttered in person, rather than to the press.  German brains also think differently - (if you look at the language structure or have read any German philosophy that seems to be self-evident).  Lots of subtle ways to combine words to shift meanings.  I imagine Peer Steinbruck goes to bed at night thinking and dreaming from an Uberwirtschaft perspective - a bit above it all looking down, yes, like one of those giant inflatable balloons tethered by strings floated down boulevards for parades.  Anyway, this Uberwirtschaft floats above it all and takes it all in from a god-like (but ungrounded in such things) perspective with a kind of neutral delight at the highs and lows of the mess and has forgotton that everyone else has immense sensitivity at the moment.  And I don't mean that in a bad way - if you are English you are now laughing at this vision of Uberwirtschaft for a completely different reason than if you are a German reader.  

In keeping with the nihilistic German theme, did you know "finanzkrise" was just voted word of the year on Germany?  I am guessing you do not need a translation.

Pirates of the Caribbean...

I caught up with my good friend X. the other day during the birthday marathons and had a bit of wine and conversation about the Situation-at-Hand.  Her parents are (were?) developers of a residential hotel project in the Caribbean that has just ummm....well, it is built and open.  With not a lot of cash flow on hand, they have quickly changed sails -- they have decided to become Pirates.  I kid you not.  They have just bought a barge and a crane and are for hire.

That will be handy to relieve the ships of all the goods that cannot be delivered for lack of letters of credit being issued.  Pirates will be needed.  Can someone go retrain those Somali Pirates to be a bit more useful?

Woolworths really is the perfect store model to deal with all these unwanted things.  Why don't the Somali Pirates take some of their booty and save Woolies?  It would give them a place to sell all those nice things stuck at sea that they have rescued....

Hollywood clearly needs me.

Saving the World...

A quick link..I actually think the reaction is much funnier than the blunder...and for the record, I have a soft spot for the Scotsman...

Gordon Brown on the BBC here....

Kind Regards,

Missmarketcrash

The Enchantress of Numbers...

There is a giant Black Hole at the center of our galaxy the BBC announced today.  What good timing.  Reading on, Dr. Massy said "Although we think of Black Holes as somehow threatening, in the sense that if you get too close to one you are in trouble, they may have had a role in helping galaxies to form - not just our own, but all galaxies"...."They had a role in bringing matter together...

Somehow all this chatter about black holes and bringing matter together brought Missmarketcrash back inside her brain again, to yesterday's mention of the enchanted Ada...

"What about a machine"?  Ada asked with a nervous quiver, one that reflected her naivety. 

"Yes - let's build a most fantastic sort of contraption with input from all types of data from all over the world" she continued breathlessly...."deriviatives trading, housing sales, lending, the equity market, management consultants, anything really".  Let's call the machine umm..."Ada's Box".  As she left the room, Missmarketplace reflected on the notion that Ada was a mathematically-inclined daughter of an Important Poet.   And this Important Poet was scandalous and beautiful on all fronts -- a reckless attitude toward money, promiscuous in all ways...the perfect man to be involved in such a mess...why he even wrote something about well, not really black holes, but darkness... once...

So Ada's Box could be open source free love and could entice bored computer programmers to send in data from wherever it is they are working.  This data could rely on the self-same computer programmers to spot Interesting Things and write more open source programs to spot Interesting Things.  It would not be run by economists, or governments, or companies.  Just a bunch of open-source programmers.

So - would that just inspire chaos?  Would anything reliable come out of it?  Would any company agree to such a thing?  It would have to somehow become anonymous data as soon as it went in, encrypted identities if you'd like.  There would certainly be villains as programmers are naturally inclined in that direction, but, would it actually function reasonably well - a la Wikipedia?  And then, in this black hole of data - high-speed star formations such as enormous growth in various derivatives or other invented things might be seen before they get too large?  Maybe?

Or has Missmarketcrash been fantasizing too much again?

Dopplegaenger

After a brisk and invigorating arctic tennis lesson with the lovely self-contented and incredibly boyish M. this morning Missmarketcrash started reading the Frankly-Disasterous news.  Hedge Funds?  Scissors please.  Unless you are in the industry you have probably never noticed just how ridiculous Hedge Funders look.  Missmarketcrash thinks a trim of all that silly long hair is in order to match the horrific returns on offer.  No wonder they have mistresses.  No self-respecting wife would ever ever ever get excited by that look.

Looking elsewhere for excitement, Missmarketcrash found herself wandering around her own head which is generally full of better visions.  And then she appeared.  The double of Missmarketcrash, her spitting image came waltzing through, a barely apparent swagger, those slightly opened lips, the same skeptical tilt to her left eyebrow - everything looked the same.  But ah, she was slightly different inside.  The dark laughter had been swept away.  Minor characters had been renamed with evocative names like Ada and Swin.  She was filled with the purest glee and had no knowledge of anything horrid.  She was the Good one.  She dismissed the news of two French and one German bank on the brink of major CDS disaster as pure scare-mongering.  She thought it was funny that a risk analysis company had a little game online where one could hypothetically merge banks and look at the outcome.  She delighted in the idea yesterday's meteoric stock market rise might mean something good.  

Then, like a bubble popping, she disappeared.  

Whither thou goest...

Whither goest thou America, in thy shiny car in the night?

Last night MissMarketcrash had a kind of Jack Kerouac dream - perhaps you know the type - vivid colors, a bit of a sweat, the works.  And, the dream took the form of a stageplay. The play featured a girl named Val who was sitting in a car, sunglasses on, mute.  The driver was a man who kept talking and talking whilst Val's face would suffer very imperceptible tremors, though she remained silent.  Her mouth was slightly open and, at times, her lip quivered.  Her silence was an all-knowing despair type of silence, and, the man was going on and on about life in a really interesting philosophical fashion with pauses in places so we could study Val's deadpan face and her silent answers.  As viewers, we knew he had it all wrong and we were all placed inside the head of Val, keeping a brave face, perhaps wearing the glasses to conceal a tear or two.  And they were not headed anywhere in particular and did not ever arrive anywhere, or, at least they were still driving when I woke up. There then.  We've got an endless destination, we've got cars, and we've got a Missmarketcrash type all wrapped up in a vivid theatre-based dream which was no doubt inspired by the trip to the theatre with the children yesterday twisted with a bit of the-happy-news-that-surrounds-us.

So - who is that man in the dream?  Is it the financial advisor of MissMarketcrash?  Is it her husband?  Is it her alter-ego?  Or maybe Obama?  Gordon Brown? In the play this mystery man driver represented "General Mankind of the Herd" that is, someone who thought like everybody and spoke entirely in cliches.  

The theatre yesterday was located near the London School of Economics.  My children, post-theatre, wandered  up to a penguin statue and an elephant statue at the school and played.  I stared in the window at the books on remainder sale at the economics bookshop with a kind of analytical irony.  Now, I cannot recall any copies of "On the Road" in that window to wrap this all up in a neat and tidy packet, but, I do remember the books were all of the pop-light economics sort.  And no one wanted them.

A good link...

Jeremy Clarkson is covering for me whilst I am having the birthday hangovers.  He is not funny at all but it is a good link...

from the BBC...

Would you like some blueberries?

Gloom and doom...a very well-regarded Swiss Private Banking CEO has just committed suicide....

And the number of jobs eliminated this month in the U.S. has leaped leaped leaped to 533,000.

Silver linings?  

Blueberries reverse memory loss according to scientists at the University of Reading.

Now - do we want to remember or not?

I'd rather be playing scrabble...

Missmarketcrash is in the midst of a four day birthday celebration so would like to advise you that the quality of posts may be a bit...off.  Last night, the London Scrabble team kicked off the festivities and brought Missmarketcrash a cake decorated with gold chocolate coin money.  It was heaped on like a pirate's bounty and Team Scrabble looked on with careful anticipation - was Missmarketcrash going to laugh, or, burst into tears?  A trademark giggle from Missmarketcrash calmed the anxious air.  Continuing on the money theme, Missmarketcrash was presented with a series of Lottery tickets.  Now....Missmarketcrash is not the lottery ticket buying sort, but, gosh, her head started spinning.  Missmarketcrash's father once proclaimed (and he was probably parrot pontificating) - he once proclaimed that Lottery tickets were a sneaky tax on the poor.  So then (according to the parrot pontificator), they are useful to the government, inspire happiness, and create a bit of poverty where poverty is not needed.  Hmmm.  That is the current form.  Now...suppose we reverse that.  If there were something that created a bit of a hole for the government, made people sad, and created a bit of wealth where wealth is not needed....

We would then have arrived at the public sentiment regarding the current crisis.

But - I digress.  Back to the Lottery concept.  If ordinary citizens could buy a ticket with the names of companies that one could bail out during the current crisis in different forms - let's say you've got Citigroup, Chrysler, Motorola, UBS, Sun, and Ebay on your card.  There would be a good mix of companies from all over the world represented, and, no two cards would be alike.  If your ticket was randomly selected to be the winning ticket, those companies would be given a golden heart and a cash infusion and the ticket holder would be given a good number of shares (held through a third party) which may or may not be valuable at the current moment.   Deja-vu?  

A Lottery is the oddest kind of game.  It has no reliance on skill and the element of chance is both appealing and repellent (or at least for a control freak such as moi).  It is almost a "something for nothing" exchange as the rewards offered are often a million times greater than the cost.  There are "odds and probabilities", but, they seem almost hypothetical when one gets to the odds on the best prizes.  

Metaphorically and non, I'd rather be playing scrabble...

From Fairtrade to Sharetrade...

I was avoiding the topic of the American car companies as, well, it all seemed just too daft to me.  However, an article in a Canadian newspaper, The Windsor Star, has snagged Missmarketplace into the conversation.  A Ford dealership up in Canada has run a promotion giving away 100 shares of Ford with every Ford car.  The dealership admitted getting the idea from a Texas GM dealer who ran a similar promotion.  Now...this Consumer Marxism is one of those absurdities my dear father would have loved.  You buy it, you own it, and some.  Well, Missmarketplace has not ever worked for Apple, but, has worked on an Apple Mac and, indeed, has owned some Apple stocks in the past.  However, Jack, my financial advisor scolded me for wearing my heart on my sleeve and advised me that one should be cold and disconnected from one's investments...

I think Consumer Marxism would prove very popular to the youthful and optimistic people still roaming the world, sheltered from the turmoil in universities or perhaps those still living in the family home -- people without worries and disposable income.  I think this is an idea that ought to be fast snapped up by marketeers and rendered useless, but, holistic. "Keep our company and values alive"...(and, in the spirit of the Citicorp bailout, why not just make up a share value which is ideologically-based rather than market value based?)

But really.  How could one attract a following to one of the car companies via the values marketing angle?  Come join us for everything good and American, hugely wasteful on all fronts monetarily and environmentally, full of tradition and immune to change? That is certainly not a winner, and, it will be good for America to come to terms with it all shortly.

In the past, selling a product by offering a charitable spin has been successful in the past - pre-Fairtrade, there was plain old corporate charity --  Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream & Paul Newman products were the predecessors of Fairtrade, but, Fairtrade somehow seems like, well, less like marketing somehow.  Or maybe I am just gullible.

Now, could we possibly morph from Fairtrade to Sharetrade?  Not with those cars, but, perhaps with something else...

All in the head....

This week Missmarketcrash has been mired in derivatives and trying to channel her inner Bertrand Russell.  All a failure of course as Missmarketcrash is not terribly mathematically inclined, but, the exotic sounding iTraxx Crossover index is making the news this week as it is going through a bit of a hysterical spell and Missmarketcrash can sympathize.  Hysterical spells have been Missmarketcrash's speciality for the past few months - with tears a go-go bursting out at the smallest things.  Mostly these moments have been directed at the process of switching child number one to state school, rather than keeping him wrapped up in the cozy comforts of the private one which taught him violin, how to hold a fork and to look someone in the eye whilst shaking hands.  Alas, Missmarketcrash thinks child number one still will have a chance at understanding the iTraxx Crossover index should he choose to when he grows up.  Stick with that incomprehensible leap for a moment.  Both Bertrand Russell and J.S. Mill were home-educated which is essentially the way one must plow forward if your child is in the state system in inner city London.  Last night we read Samuel Beckett  together --to my delight, child number one (who is 7) enjoyed the story of the stone sucker and the mathematics involved with trying to suck 16 stones and switching them amongst four pockets and one mouth....I chose Beckett for our reading as child number one was writing a story about being bored and the futility of existence which he thought was hilariously funny.  So, Beckett made sense.  Which brings me back to this iTraxx Crossover index.  I still do not understand it completely, but, I understand it enough to spare you an explanation lest you wander off and never come back.  So, to put it simply, the iTraxx Crossover index is channelling its inner Beckett and reflecting the futility, the hopelessness and the loss of faith in anything restoring things back to where they were.  Now...we must all climb inside the head of a seven year old and try to find this all hilariously funny.

A slight detour....

A glance backward to the philosophers that spoke about economics or economists that were philosophers or, both - well, I remember Marx, Keynes and John Stuart Mill from university days.  Bertrand Russell had some asides as well, but, seemingly, his works are probably suited more to the everyday traders and brokers than the high-minded economists currently being consulted by Obama and the like regarding the current situation.  I do not mean to say Bertrand was not an intellectual with a capital I, no - he most certainly could run circles around most folks - but, his ideas generally drifted toward applied and theoretical mathematics, which I reckon would be a good start if one were a trader.  In that, perhaps a philosophical hedge funder (there must be such a thing) might be a good addition to the economic team of advisors Obama has formed.  As my Keynes was in need of a refresher and he seems to be the man of the day in the current crisis I've done a quick consultation with Wikipedia which has provided volumes of fun -- I almost felt like a student again.  Anyway, I read an awfully depressing and shockingly mirror-like-to-the-current-situation treatise on the Great Depression before drifting into more cheerful Keynes gossip, such as the fact that he was a homosexual, had a fantastic collection of contemporary art, and was charitable to Sadler's Wells and instrumental in establishing the British Arts Council.  Afterward, I skimmed through J.S. Mill and again, I was diverted -- by one of his teachers - a friend of his father - Jeremy Bentham, who had a "Happiness Principle" that was somewhat simplistic and made a bit more interesting by Mill.  Bentham was all for doing the thing that brought the  most happiness to the greatest number of people.  Mills was a bit of an intellectual snob and took this utilitarian thought apart and decided really, that, intellectual and moral pleasures outweighed, well, sex I think.   That can't be right.  I've been thoroughly derailed in a good way this morning - thoughts of economics have given way to visions of lusty homosexuals buying contemporary art and consulting Bertrand Russell about the stock market....

Far more fascinating than that market-that-crashed-again-yesterday and my children I think.

A Christmas Moment

Miss Marketcrash went to buy a Christmas tree yesterday.  I had been busy thinking about Darwin and evolution and how I needed to edit yesterday's blog as it was far far too chock-a-block with unfinished ideas weakly fused together when I felt a small tug on my hand from my smallest child.  And then a Christmas moment folded itself into a little greeting card as I peered down into his all-knowing eyes.  Here was joy and optimism and anticipation and all those lovely little things holding hands tightly with me as I dashed across the street in excitement toward the trees.  

A bright-eyed young man appeared out of nowhere and our Christmas Moment continued as he displayed and twirled tree after tree as if they were his dancing partners.  It almost seemed cruel to stop his magnificent performance and request a particular tree.  But then, the magic Christmas Moment jellied into an apologetic offer of humor when we decided we really really liked the very first tree he had shown to us.  The magic tree man grinned and told us he was also an estate agent and was very much used to people seeing everything before they could make up their minds...

And then...Darwin jumped back into my head as I neatly pondered the evolution from Estate Agent to Christmas Tree salesman and at the same time I realized I was no longer holding that perfect little hand of good cheer - that he was well ahead of me, running with glee....