Ah, kingly destiny. . . . . . delusions of grandeur, the potentate waving his scepter over an empire of money and corporate holdings as he sold ghost-written books of how he was "a self-made man". Screw the details of "how this would actually happen", but when I grew up, one figured they would be like Donald Trump dining in the finest restaurants with the finest women, tying a handkerchief around his neck and ordering around waiters and waitresses with the snap of a finger and brusque command. And not forgetting the obsequious flatterers, "yes-men", and biographers at his heels-- waiting for him to raise his index finger in the air with a clever anecdote with the honor and knighthood of capitalism, like a paladin on a horse at the tournament when he, himself, owned the castle and the stands and opened up the taps of "free brew" for the masses (-- limit, one ale cup each).

Perhaps throwing a few coins to God, he would take a token moment or two of humbleness out on his yacht "up East" with a blonde model snuggled up against him, then he'd go down to the cherry-wood bar in his bathrobe and pour himself a scotch before this purring vixen came out and our hero, in Shakespearean contemplation, went into a monologue about how "he needed to take charge".

"The Big Boss", "The Big Kahuna", "The Big-Mouth" who didn't know what the hell he was talking about. That would sum me up perfectly with my visions of "coming out on top" in this "dog-eat-dog world", but soon winter arrives when you realize that none of these things are going to happen for you, in all liklihood. For surely, I was not the son of lowly millionaires only destined to burst out of their shadow and become A Mighty Billionaire with vainglorious ego riding on a golden chariot through the financial district of New York City, beating my horses back and forth with a crop like a Roman aristocrat.

Sad but true, but that doesn't mean that you can't be an understudy to the forces that largely shape "who gets what in our society"-- the fact that not everyone can eat filet mignon with Ivana. Alas, "champagne taste" with a "Budweiser budget"-- could the gods be any more cruel?!

But hey, "honesty is my only excuse" ,"so step a little closer, if you please"!

While other writers continue to scratch out neurotic, unhappy pieces about "the human stain", I thought it would be a great deal more fun to take notes from an old economics text-book on a course of self-study, with amusing commentary thrown in so I can remember all this useful information for future reference.

Why study, if you don't learn?

The cost of something is what you sacrifice to attain it. . . . . I could spend my days endlessly hanging out on a Winona Ryder message board, hopping up and down on my thumb and squawking "how much I love her" with the others, any one of the hundreds of millions who ever had the stray thought that "she's nifty" or I could actually do something charming that might lasso her in to my orbit. There's risk, there's the sweat of investment, but at least I'm not taking "the easy way out" that any twisted misfit would probably go for, instead of applying his hands to a beautiful purpose-- like typing out this primer on economics.

We tend to do our thinking along the margins. . . . . kind of an easy slide when we think of "trade-offs" (-- or don't think, actually!). If "Wally the snorlfling Winona geek" owns every last one of her movies except for some obscure, piss-ant offering from 1987 available only on a crusty VHS tape-- in all odds he's going to race to complete his collection, even though this scene degrades us all. On the other hand. if "Michael the Mighty" stays up real late typing this, he won't feel so shocked and appalled when the sun peaks over the hills at dawn just because he decided to give Guns n' Roses' "Appetite for Destruction" another spin.

. . . . . . is a concept not too hard to understand. There is only one (1) Winona Ryder and about 20 million men who want to be her guy (-- or more!). Hard facts, bitter realities. Yet find that same low-down, jaundiced bum who asked for money to buy a sandwich from the last chapter now out on the street corner tipping back a bottle of "Night Train" and throw him that proposition. . . . . and watch him mirthfully explode something to the effect that this woman would be "very sore". But both you and I know that ain't going to happen-- 20 million men lined up outside a mansion in L.A-- much less for "Randy Ripple winning the lottery" as he scratches himself and looks at tattered "stroke mags" up in his cold garret.

(-- actually, that sounds like me about 10 years ago!)

However, there seemed to be an unlimited supply of crusty old $5 video tapes available at "Old Hippie John's" used video game hut off the beaten, hardscrabble St. Charles Rock Road whose height never went down-- a precarious stack circling the dubious premises like "The Great Wall of China" scaring off the mannerly. The pile only decreased when I availed myself to them, ten for $30 just so people could MOVE around there-- the joint was so cluttered and filthy. Now that's what I call "a close-out"!

All those cheesy '80s films that nobody wanted. . . . . why, I think I even found that obscure, piss-ant Winona Ryder movie from 1987 down in there somewhere and "Old Hippie John" looked at me like I sprung a dick out of my forehead, it was such a shift from my usual mélange of Steven Segal films, usually featuring this pony-tailed ex-cop breaking the limbs of VooDoo cocaine lords. It seemed as if "The Good Things in Life" always took more $$$ and more "class" than what could be found in my linty, turned-out pockets. . . . . wandering around the county like a stray dog with paper cuts on its scrotum.

There are tens of millions of young men like this, all garbage, and it ain't "a seller's market"  for winning over the heart of anyone worthwhile.

Auctioneer: "How much would you pay for this boy's affection?"

Collective Disapproval of Womanhood: "Nothing! You'd have to pay us to take his mangy ass!"

A market is defined as the voluntary interface between buyers and sellers, all presumably making free, informed choices of what they will pay and what they will charge, even the kind of business they are in. . . . . namely what they will suffer and "when to get out".

May the bells of freedom ring, but no one is holding a gun to the other's head and individuals are far more free than we give ourselves credit for. Suffering is an art-form as much as it is a requirement upon this bloody, merciless earth-ball, and if we can understand that much and become one's own master and captain of our fate (-- master of our soul)  then we can get ourselves into a creative mindset where we can take the risks that break us out of "The 13 Steps to Nowhere" and into a new level of prosperity, previously unconceived.

For instance, if I blow all my money on "Night Train" instead of saving up for a tasty bottle of "Brennan's Irish Cream Liquor", then it's my free choice-- and I can hardly complain that I'm not surrounded by "the good things in life" when I wake up beseiged by a bunch of foul, sickly-sweet empties whose truth is its own nagging author, like pesky buzzing flies.

If you pick up Metallica's "Garage Inc."-- a collection of all their cover songs, old, and new-- at a record store the day it's released then that's your impatience instead of taking the informed risk that a used copy will sooner or later float through the used record bins for much cheaper.

(-- Of course, in these wicked days you can always download it!).

If a man in the record business realizes that his store is "a sinking ship", then he has the choice to cash out and either go into another business or work for someone else, rather than being piteously chained"to this lost cause"  like a galley slave holding up the manacles of his imprisonment and praying for"a magical key",  or for your fairy elfin goddess (-- who incidentally, looks a lot like Winona Ryder) to come down on wings of white and write your draggin' ass a check like deux ex machina solutions.

Between you and me,"that ain't gonna happen".

Just sit around waiting for that "magical mystery limousine" to make a turn around the corner and pull up in front of your home or business unannounced.

The error in our thinking is having such "a fixed concept" that we can't adapt to the exigencies of the outside world where sympathetic listeners are in short supply "when push comes to shove" as they pat you on the head and depart. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Cry, and you will soon cry alone. Because no one wants anything to do with the unhappy and unfortunate! The world's sorrows are "on clearance" and to break it down quite simply, there are "no takers" unless there is some kind of pointful exchange because no one particularly wants to go back into that dirty basement of heavy lifting and monkey around with that "fuse box" of bad wiring after a wash-out. Each man must carry his own burden, dig himself out of his own rut, and put the investment in "personal realignment" no matter how long, drawn-out, and painful it is.

And then you have our nation's collegiate youth who never have to take responsibility. . . . . spending all their money on booze and CD's and caving into "instant gratification" like a sailor in a tangle of arms & legs on the business-end of a wharf-front whorehouse! How are you going to pay for that precious economics text book? Don't worry, your parents will foot the bill, along with a new computer that you use to look at splatter pictures at rotten.com! Aren't these "spoiled little porkers" wonderful? Isn't our mortgage crisis a blessing-- shielded from the consequences of our actions so we don't ever have to grow up and stare "Father Reaper" in the face?

Now that's what I love about America!

*******************

Banking, Savings, & The Money Supply. . . . .

. . . . . are features of a system that makes perfect sense when it's explained by someone who isn't off on some wild-eyed corner of the internet, raving on about the Illuminati "and kikes" and the Bilderberg group and how it all conspires together in an interlocking protectorate, exposed by one who holds "the skeleton key"  to all. Thing is, such a sinister answer that seems so "crisp" & all-encompassing gets rusty over the course of time as life continues as usual with the rubbery, underwhelming nature of existence.

With a far-stretched argument and cherry-picked evidence, I could reason that because Winona is Jewish and works in Hollywood and has appeared in lusty poses in Rolling Stone magazine that she too is of a Zionist plot to pull down America with the snickering, waving fingers of "the Hebraic spider" grinning on like an insufferable little caricature and sucking blood from the tits of Nordic virgins like Bela Lugosi or Sumner Redstone in his corner office. But if you trace the development of society with a keen eye, you would see that we are merely actors walking amongst the inevitable growth of matters set in motion by lobbies, criminals, inertia, and forces that have no name. Ultimately you can say that every system is illogical because it "peters out" in the long run, but we are all dead in the long run also-- so listen to why this system of ours makes sense for now!

For starters, an economy will be healthier if its people socks away its excess wealth in savings. But not just stashing money under a cum-stained mattress, but putting it in a bank where the moolah can be directed to the best use with borrowers and lenders and thusly used to grow the economy with solid wealth-creation instead of wealth-fantasizing, like wondering where I can find banned videos of underage Traci Lords in her prime.

Does housing and enterprise-expansion ring a bell? Useful things, instead of gambling it away at the track or spending it on porno tapes. It's very important that banks are run like a business and not an Al Sharpton-bullied "daisy farm" because we're talking about other people's money! The truth is, when you lend money to a friend or an associate you can probably expect not to get it back unless you throw 'em up against the wall. But a bank will put a lien on your house, with interest, assuming you even have a house! Lending institutions always want collateral, and the old joke is that they lend you an umbrella when it ain't rainin', to those who don't need it. . . . . I suppose you could send "a thumb-breaker" after that kid back in high school who stiffed me on $5 for lunch, but I should probably just "write it off" as a loss and know not to be so naive in the future. Matters get complicated-- and friendship compromised-- when it comes to the iron-clad, unforgiving nature of sweat n' scarcity n' sacrifice.

It nearly always does.

But what is certainly not in short supply, is the creation of money when banks get their hands on it and do their financial tricks! This is what is known as "the money multiplier effect". Say a bank is required only to keep 10% of their depositor's money on reserve at any given time-- assuming that they won't come in there waving their depositor's slips all at one time-- and if there's $1000 in total, the bank could lend out $900 of it while setting aside $100. And out of that sum, it could lend out $810 of it while setting aside $90. And out of that sum, it could lend out $729 of it while setting aside $81. And so on and so forth, which is covered "by credit" by the Federal Reserve.

(-- more on that in a minute)

Though actual wealth isn't really created, the bank can act like it has 10 times as much money to throw around in the economy which goes back into investment and growth! And seeing that banks get a commission on each loan they make, skimming off the eventual accruement of interest from the debtors they bring in, you're in the money!

-------------

See how this works-- 100% divided by 10% equals 10X the effective money

while

100% divided by say, 5% equals about 20X the effective money available. Not bad!

--------------

Of course, there's an incentive to be irresponsible when the economy is running on "a bull-market" and there seems to be no end in sight. Everyone is making money hand-over-fist, and no one is asking questions. But when the punch bowl explodes and the party is over once the debts must be collected in one punishing squall, there is hell to pay. . . . .

When all else fails, this is why folks invest in government bonds, or a statement of debt that pays interest to he who holds it. The government certainly spends more than it collects in taxes, and to adjust for the deficit it sells these to make up the difference.

I used to not understand the principle that no one, no matter how patriotic, would buy bonds then give them back to the government gratis as a way to pay down the spiraling national debt. But what was I, but a stupid kid? Liberalism blossoms in the sunshine of security and leisure while hard-headedness breeds in the darkness of uncertainty and hardship.

And there the foreign bond-holders are, rubbing their hands together because they won't trade with us, or will even threaten to call in their debts unless we borrow more money, which puts us in a deeper pit. Government bonds are secure so long as there is a government levying taxes, and many are pessimistic that there will be one if, and when, we turn into a Third World nation of Malthusian woe when the rich are living in gated communities patrolled by Blackwater security guards and the rest of us are eating each other. But that is getting into the realm of speculative craziness, and we keep our fingers crossed that America won't turn into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Banking and government bonds are all overseen by The Federal Reserve system, 12 super-banks known as "The Banker's Bank" which is called to order by the chairman. If this doesn't sound demonic enough in the imagination of the far-right, remember that it was founded in 1913 as a reaction to "The Panic of 1907"  that wiped out "Hiram's savings" and left him sleeping out under the stars with his bare, stinking feet. On principle, when banks are having problems meeting their reserves, "The Fed" lends them money at a set interest rate which in turn is passed on to consumers. The money is delivered in an armored car and put in "the vault", where all accounts are guaranteed up to $100,000 in case of crisis or error just to keep up confidence in the system.

Bank robbers seldom have a prayer "of getting away with it" because this financial fortress is nothing to mess with. The FBI will hunt you down like a dog and put you behind bars with scarcely a doubt, while convenience store robberies are given far less priority and are seen as a minor nuisance in the heartbeat of things.

Yes, the essential integrity of the system will not be disturbed. . . . .

The Fed prints up bonds, which have worth by fiat-- just because they say it does-- and when it wants to take money out of the economy because of inflationary fears, it sells them-- sucking up buyer's money like a sponge. When it wants to release money in the economy "to get things moving", it buys the bonds and pays people back-- plus interest. Inflation happens when the government prints up more money than there is actual "value" in the economy and with more money in holder's pockets, prices are bid up to an adjusted level. The value of money depends on scarcity, and to a certain extent the economy banks on the low-paid and unemployed because it's what keeps money "worth something".

Yes, the system is irrational and unfair but those "struck down" are usually those who are too stupid or too uncooperative to bring in anything better for themselves. Ho, hum. If you can't fix the world's multitudinous problems of misery and woe, you can at least settle down and write a primer on economics and act like a know-it-all. . . . . without sticking your neck out.

*******************

At a meeting of Hurricane Katrina survivors you had a bunch of socialist goofball hanger-on's who looked like the motley villagers that capered around Sherwood Forest in "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves". Of course, in real life they would inevitably be cut to pieces by the King's men for their untermench insolence. Put on the rack or burned at the stake. Only here in modern democratic society could this social decadence be left to fester without interruption, but only because the big powers shrugged and were busy hunched over their "lion's share" of the spoils with waving tails while socialist herbivores could "Baaahhhh" over grass in the far, far distance as speakers mumbled on about "the blood-sucking vulture of capitalism".

"Vampire" would have made so much more sense, but no one was smart enough to know the difference! I straggled out into the night as the throng shouted "FIGHT THE POWER!", a Negro dressed up like Osama bin Laden pulling on my sleeve and trying to sell me a pan-Africanist newspaper for $5, and vowed never to return. . . . .

Any economist worth his salt would laugh. The big question would be, "what do these people do for a living?" "How do they make themselves useful?" And "asides from cruddy, romantic notions of how things ought to be-- do they know how the world actually works?"

$$$ And remember that knowledge ain't free. . . . . $$$

A Follow-Up! A quick primer on investing. Go to "Stock Tips" here.

*******************

"You want a-nuther song? Well I ain't plain' one mutherfuckin' note until someone comes up here and puts sum money in my god-damned tip-jar! You know I only came here for one purpose. . . . . to take yor fuckin' cash! Why, I could make more profit puttin' out my meth-head neighbor's asshole and ringin' a bell, hollerin' 'Man for sale! Man for sale!'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Rheeee of Crickets)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

("I heard that, Missy!")

© 2010 by Insufferable Industries

Drop "The Bard" a line at
michaeladams_s@yahoo.com

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