I used to feel sorry for “voters” who lost their jobs, had their retirement portfolios melt away, lost their houses due to foreclosure, etc. It was quite a burden.
But now that “voters” have instructed the fat cats in Washington to make things even worse, I no longer feel sorry for them. My burden of empathy has now been lifted.
Each time I see an economic report showing millions of “voters” out of work, or kicked to the curb in foreclosures, I will drink a toast.
I have made quite a lot of money this year. I like to imagine that it has been directly transferred out of some fool “voter’s” retirement account and into my account. That makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
When I descend from my paid-for luxury condo with a spectacular view of Miami Beach and stroll along the streets soon to be populated with even more homeless “voters”, I will be whistling a happy tune as I go by. When they reach up to me from the gutter, and ask “buddy, can you spare a dime?” for another bottle of cheap wine, I will spit in their hands.
Yes, there will be a Depression, but not for me of course. I will be happy and cheerful all the way through.
Note: I hope that you were paying attention over the weekend when I was skeptical of media reports that the deal was done. That was a classic, premeditated, and coordinated propaganda blitz. On Friday, the market, like Warren Buffet, was confident that Congress would do something intelligent. I was in cash. After the bill went down today, I went short in the futures, set a stop and let it ride. Hopefully, I bankrupted yet another “voter.”