Welcome to 2018, everyone. I hope you enjoy your extended, but necessarily finite visit. I suggest you take this opportunity to look around and absorb your surroundings. You’re gonna be here – for a while, anyway – so it wouldn’t be the worst idea to spend some time getting a general feel for the place. It may look familiar, but trust me: there are unknown portals, nooks and crannies, mazes that lead to nowhere, and the potential for surprise around every corner. As your self-appointed host, I’d like to be in a position to provide you with a detailed and comprehensive topographical map, but the plain truth is that I’ve just arrived myself, and am myself still surveying the totality of the premises.
I am well-aware that the current physical comfort index leaves something to be desired, what, with record cold descending upon much of the landscape. But this much I can promise you: it won’t last for the duration of your stay. The weather will indeed improve, and though I don’t like to promise, I’m pretty certain that some of you may even get some beach time in before you take your leave.
Your initial impressions may reveal little change — relative to your recently departed realm of 17. And you’d be wise to note not only the similarities, but also their implied continuity. For example, human behavior continues to trend towards the unfettered and unhinged. They’re still yelling at one another in Washington. Back-benching strongmen rants ensue apace. And our overfed, over-indulged psyches continue to run wild. For example, pursuant to today’s theme, I note the ever-expanding tendency for members of our species to redefine themselves to match the troubled inner workings of their brains. Over the last couple of years, the tsunami of focus on gender redefinition has catalyzed such trends as proclamations by certain individuals that, DNA notwithstanding, they have chosen to identify, racially and ethnically, with groups other than those genetically bestowed upon them by their forebears.
OK, where do we go from there? Well, in the fall of 2017, there was an explosion in a concept called Otherkin, under which homo sapiens have determined that in their heart of hearts, they are not homo sapiens at all: rather, they are lions, tigers, bears, and yes, even manatees.
Done and done? Uh, no. On January 1, 2018 – New Year’s Day no less – I uncovered a concept called transability, or, to apply the more generic medical terminology, Biology Identity Integrity Disorder (BIID): a phenomenon involving poor souls who, though being blessed with fully functioning bodies, nonetheless identify as being disabled. They feign paralysis and sit in wheelchairs. As Tommy once said, they “put in their earplugs, put on their eye shades and know where to put the cork”. Presto! They’re blind deaf and dumb. The real legit ballers in this crew actually go so far as to maim, themselves, and I read about one guy who even cut his arm off to prove the point.
So we enter 2018 with only one threshold left to cross: life itself. As such, I’ve created a concept called transanimation, under which certain living individuals identify themselves as dead. Presumably, this paradigm has been in place since time immemorial, but fair warning: don’t try to steal this idea from me because, well, I know where you live.
Thus, from a number of perspectives, 2018 might fairly be viewed as an extension of its predecessor – only more so. And this, at least in part, means that the verifiable realities we confront can simply be re-engineered according to our tastes, moods and predispositions. What, after all, is a cryptocurrency other than an effort by put-upon economic agents to redefine modes of exchange to better suit their agendas? But I have nothing constructive to convey about crypto, so I’ll leave it at that.
However, other, more old-school market mechanisms also reflect the current mindset. Consider, for instance, the Equity Complex, which, both domestically and globally, came barreling out of the gates in gale force fashion, and looking like anything other than a negatively transanimated creature. Perhaps, however, the opposite can be said of the VIX, which rolled over to its lowest close of all time on Wednesday:
VIX: Thinks It’s Alive But is Really Dead:
Yes, the good times keep rolling for options sellers, but like their antecedents, they face at least a nominal risk that what appears to be death is actually hibernation. Perhaps this lasts all winter, but on the other hand, and even so, the VIX Bear could wake up in the spring hungry and angry.
If so, and if history indeed is any guide, it will presumably know exactly where in the investment universe to attack to satisfy its urges.
Copper: Not Coming a Cropper
With all of that equity buying out there to distract our attentions, there wasn’t a great deal of side action with which to concern ourselves. Bonds were pretty flat. The USD remained moribund on the canvas. There was some discernable activity in the Commodity Complex, with even the long shunned grains managing to capture a late week bid.
But the big action was in Metals – particularly Copper – now comfortably trading at > 3-year highs.
And, while we’re on the subject of Commodities, can somebody please explain to me what in heaven’s name is going on in Natural Gas? I mean, please. Just when it looks like the inclement weather would offer some relief to this beleaguered instrument: a) first comes the snow; b) then come the frigid temperatures; and then, in a sign of the times, investors decide to stage a fire sale of their inventories, and short sellers jump on board for the ride.
Time was that Nat Gas was THE market to trade, but this era appears, at least for the present, to have been de-animated.
The Unnatural Behavior of Natural Gas:
By this past Friday, we got our first glimpse of year-end macro picture. The December Jobs Report came in at solid, but uninspiring levels. Market participants checked the box and then resumed their buying frenzy. Now, presumably, ‘tis the season to turn our collective attentions to earnings, and the default expectation must shade towards the extension of the rolling good times of 2017. The process, in time-honored fashion, unfolds slowly, starting next week, and then accelerates to its crescendo around the end of January. Expectations are about as giddy as this old boy can ever recall them being, in part as evidenced from the following metric:
If I read this chart correctly, then the glide path of earnings estimates (which typically trend downward within a given quarterly cycle) across the quarter appears to be as favorable as they’ve been in about seven years. I’m not sure how much of this is a technical nod to the new tax regime, but it also appears to reflect a pretty encouraging trend line for business activity.
I reckon we’ll find out soon enough.
Four trading days into this annual cycle offer some time to get a feel for this 2018, but only a partial one at best. For what it’s worth, I read over the weekend that: a) the holiday-shortened start outperformed every full week in the fabulous, dearly-departed year of 2017; and that b) every year since 1950 which begins with 5 straight up sessions has ended with positive index returns, with the average gain clocking in at 18.6%.
So, from this perspective, and if one places faith in this sort of pattern recognition, tomorrow is a big day. But, on balance, I wouldn’t take any drastic steps to anticipate what comes next; let’s instead follow my original advice and take a look around a bit. However, if the market forecast calls, as it does, for warm and sunny conditions, you can’t help yourself by putting on your heavy weather gear. There may be an appropriate time to do so, but taking this step prematurely is likely to create only discomfort, aggravation and (worst of all) lost time.
I close by reminding you that in this new era of transanimation, the flows only go one way. Much as they might wish to do so, the dead cannot identify as the quick. And it strikes me that this is true not only in biology, but in finance and investment as well.
So look alive, be forewarned, and, as always…
TIMSHEL