(Illustration found here).
Yesterday’s suck hole on Wall Street is most-likely a harbinger of an anxious future.
Scared of all kinds of money-entangled shit, the stock market cratered more than 500 points, the Asian markets following with the European markets this morning still tracking downward.
Oops, we were wrong: “The conventional wisdom on Wall Street was that the economy was growing — that the worst was behind us,” said Peter Schiff, president of Euro Pacific Capital. “Now what people are realizing is the stimulus didn’t work, and we may be headed back to recession.”
Investors are scared of the numbers.
Especially today’s jobs report: Economists forecast that employers added only 90,000 jobs last month and that the unemployment rate was unchanged at 9.2 percent, according to a survey by FactSet.
Reports also indicate that temp jobs are here to stay as in the next five years, more than half of employers expect to rely more on temporary, part-time and contract workers for a variety of duties, and the long-term unemployed will stay that way.
And the number of people still receiving benefits under regular state programs after an initial week of aid rose 10,000 to 3.73 million in the week ended July 23.
And employers are just freakin’ frightful of hiring: â€œThey were laying off acquaintances and friends. Those cuts were so painful that they were unwilling to rehire out of fear that they would, at some point, just have to lay off again,â€ Mayland (Ken Mayland, economist with ClearView Economics) said.
Time now to spend hours listening to The Cure, or maybe take heart-words from Edgar Allen Poe and his, “Epigram for Wall street:”
I’ll tell you a plan for gaining wealth,
Better than banking, trade or leases â€”
Take a bank note and fold it up,
And then you will find your money in creases!
This wonderful plan, without danger or loss,
Keeps your cash in your hands, where nothing can trouble it;
And every time that you fold it across,
‘Tis as plain as the light of the day that you double it!
Poe didn’t cap ‘street’ in the poem’s title — maybe he knew something there.
No capital, no problem.