I don’t want to write an encyclopedia here, though Lord knows I could. But we’ve just completed a long holiday weekend, during which the news cycle has, inevitably, slowed to a crawl. We’ve still 5.5 trading weeks yet to go in this godforsaken year, and not much visibility as to what may transpire.
If my nerves are shot, I feel I have come by this condition honestly. And it may just well be that a little bit of enthusiastic shade throwing could restore my flagging energy.
At any rate, it’s worth a try.
So, what am I sick of? I’m glad you asked.
Let’s begin with the Titanic – which to this day retains the status as the world’s most deadly passenger ship disaster, claiming more lives than the Lusitania and Empress of Ireland (the next two on the list) wrecks combined.
But it hit that iceberg more than 110 years ago FFS, and I think it’s high time we just shut up about it.
I’m also already sick of the 2022 World Cup, which is only now in the midst of its qualifying rounds. It’s scheduled to go on for another month or so, and all I can say is God help us. The tourney is in Qatar, which nobody even knows how to properly pronounce. There’s a great deal of whining about the tragic lack of provisioning for malted hops.
Next.
Next? How about China? Lots of yackety yack about China. What with that big army of theirs. And the reality that their efforts to douse the population with poison gas notwithstanding, they’re back contending with a record number of them covid buggers.
This is buzz kill from too many perspectives to enumerate.
But China was around long before we arrived on the scene and it’s a fair bet that they will be so — well after we’ve peaced. So, let’s get over it, shall we?
Kinda sick of SBF/FTX as well. No doubt it’s good copy, and I’ll probably be among the first to purchase the definitive written account, which, presumably, any number of aspiring authors are already outflanking one another in hysteria to produce.
The most interesting thing about FTX is the warp speed at which it collapsed. The Theranos, Enron, Lehman and other similar sagas unfolded over months, and, in some cases years. In almost every case, some dogged reporter called BS while everyone else was singing praises. But ultimately, the story broke wide open and the reporter was vindicated. Not so with FTX. It didn’t want the vigilance of investigative journalism to bring it down, but rather collapsed of its own ossified greed and incompetence. And this in a matter of hours.
Also not surprisingly on the list is pickleball. Which I’ve never played and don’t intend to. But lots of folks is all wound up about it, and I am rapidly wearying of the topic.
Then there’s Twitter. Ah, Twitter. I don’t tweet; never have. I don’t care who owns it, who is trending or who is banned. Twitter – stop squawking!
I’m sick of all public servants. Elected and appointed. But that’s nothing new. And though I’m not proud of this, I’m already sick of Christmas songs, and November ain’t even over yet.
Finally, at least with respect to this note, I’m sick of this market. And all its drivers. Some of which I intend to use this opportunity to call out.
At the top of the list is the Fed. All of it. I’m sick of their Forward Guidance. Of their Dot Plots. Of FOMC Pressers and the parsing of every associated spoken and written word. I reckon we’re stuck with it, though, and, in this demented, unhinged market environment, what’s worse is that what it says is all we’re supposed to care about. Case and point: the Gall 5 and Cap’n Naz have both risen to the tune of 10% in a little over a month – with the main catalyst being a potential pause in the aggressive Fed’s rate raising ways.
Their main task is to manage interest rates at various maturities – in other words the Yield Curve. Here’s what the textbooks tell us it’s supposed to look like:
When we is goin’ great guns, the green line prevails. When we’re stymied and frustrated, Big Red takes over.
But look what they’ve ginned up now…
I don’t even know what to call this. It’s all twisty and turny, and mostly inverted, This indicates recession. But if that’s what they think, somebody forgot to send the memo to the Atlanta Branch, which is predicting blowout growth in Q4:
But I’m sick of all the Fed Banks (not just Atlanta). And of the ECB, and the BOJ, and the PBOC. And so on and so on and scoobie doobie do.
And I’m sick of Risk Factors, Quantitative Algorithms, Actively Managed ETFs, Passively Managed ETFs. Of Drawdowns, Correlations, the Volatility Skew, the Bid/Offer Spread. Fundamental Investors, Quantamental Investors, Short Squeezes, Triple Witches, Quadruple Witches, Yields to Maturity, Fair Value, Intrinsic Value, Extrinsic Value, Value Investors, Value Gaps, Surplus Value…
OK; strike the last one, which is a Marxist construct and therefore clearly outside the market matrix.
But I’m not sick of you. Far from it. I can use all of you I can get.
And you’ll have to carry me through this malaise. Until I gather myself.
Because right now, all I can think of is tweeting about pickleball tournaments held on the Titanic as it makes its way towards China, with winners paid out in FTX stable coins.
I’m sure I will get over this, but in the meantime, it’s all on you.
TIMSHEL