The Faithful


Faithfully watching, the major indexes slope toward their channel supports. A half a dozen times previously, the indexes have used these channels as support. Will this time be no different?

Why do I expect the US market to operate fairly?  I know so much about the world and have seen so much of the world. If I weren’t a faithful market participant I would say: no kidding. This frightful orb produces the most toxic specimens of human filth. Do we really expect one’s broker, for example, to put forth grand service promised by the founder when it can grind their clients down, one by one, and fill their pockets aplenty? It is the corporate world, isn’t it?

I’ve tried to refrain from cynicism about all people in this business. I’ve tried to go along as it were, in a kind of self-enforced attempt to live my life opposite to my training and character. I can also confess that no matter how cynical and world-weary I become, I did grow up in America during one of the best runs for ordinary people in the history of the planet. I have an abiding sense of optimism. But what if it is this precise optimism that serves our undoing? This is certainly the birth-right of the post-war baby boomers; the world has always been their oyster. I was born on its cusp (1964), enough to understand and share their enthusiasm and expectations, even though the gravy train got rescinded at my every step (I barely got through college at the beginning of Reagan’s take down of higher education; it would be impossible for me to do the same today without taking on enormous debt). And I share the “teenage angst” defined and amplified by Curt Cobain (b. 1967); our hatred of the world turns inside, as we realize our contamination by media, industrial effluent, and our own dreary pessimism.

Yep that’s me. Stuck in the middle. A wild-eyed optimist and a terribly sensitive critic. This afternoon, I write with a certain despondence at the queer nature of the perverse game of capitalism. The game of capitalism is always to capitalize. And it is a game; every player knows it. It is like chess, but it lacks its dignity. Basically, the market is an opportunity for anyone who can manipulate it (and they do exist) to grind the capital of the losers into their own coin, time after time.

One thing that keeps me from leaving, in addition to the old stick-to-it-ness of the golden boomers, is the realization that I’ve personally devoted three years to its study. I’ve refined my understanding such that I can discern how the market is understood and manipulated by traders small and large. But maybe, it is meant to be this way: the market will be pulled away from ordinary people precisely when they begin to rely on it. The Federal Reserve bank pulls back from purchasing bonds and returning capital to the US economy precisely at the moment when the last boomers can be turned into, for example, Jamie Dimon’s 20 million-dollar a year modeling fee– for it seems to me he does little but model compliance with the most grim game.

Perhaps. Perhaps. In the meantime, I remain faithful to the charts. True to form, I’m sure we’re all doomed, nonetheless, to be returned to the status of human slaves.


And yet….it appears we can ride the S and P 500 to 1760 or so; this is my target, as can be seen in the chart.

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