Sunday, May 31, 2009


(Little Red Corvette, Prince)
The Artist Formerly Known as WilliamBanzai7

I guess I should've known by the way U designed your cars with tanks tilted sideways
That it wouldn't last
See, U're the kinda company that believes in makin' out once
Love 'em, but not made to last
I guess I must be dumb cuz U had a pocket full of SUV horses
Some of them new and some of them used
But it was Bailout Saturday night, I guess that makes it all right
And U say - "What have I got 2 lose?"

And honey, I say Little Bailout Corvette
Baby, Toyota will kick your ass
Little Bailout Corvette
U need consumer love that's gonna last

I guess I should've closed my eyes when U drove me 2 the place
Where your high octane horses run free
Cuz I felt a little ill when I saw all the bills
From those camel jockeys, damn it oil ain't for free
Believe it or not, I started 2 worry
I wondered if I had enough gas
But it was Bailout Saturday night, I guess that makes it all right
And U say - "Baby, have U got enough gas?"
Oh yeah!

Little Bailout Corvette
Baby, U're capitalist iconoclast(Yes U are)
Little Bailout Corvette
U need 2 find consumer love that's gonna last (Oh, oh)

A Board of Directors yours oughta be in jail
Cuz it's dumbness on the verge of bein' obscene
Move over, dummies, Uncle Sammy got the bailout keys
He's gonna try 2 tame your money burning machine

Little Bailout Corvette
Baby, Toyota really kicked your ass
Little Bailout Corvette
Need 2 find consumer love that's gonna last, hey hey

Little Bailout Corvette
Honey, U got 2 slow down (Got 2 slow down)
Little Bailout Corvette
Cuz if U don't, U're gonna run your little bailout Corvette right in the ground
(Little Bailout Corvette)


(Bye Bye Miss American Pie, Don Maclean)

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How Detroit's muscle cars used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had a chance
That I would fall for good old horse powered romance
And, maybe, I'd be happy for a while.

But gas prices made me shiver
With every 4 1/2 dollar gallon I would quiver.
More bad news at the pump;
I couldn't take no more gas guzzling junk.

I can't remember if I cried
When I read about it's last good bye,
But something touched me deep inside
The day General Motors laid down and died.

So bye-bye, high octane American guy.
Drove my Chevy to the bailout levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old gas guzzling boys were drinkin premium unleaded and rye
Singin, "this'll be the day that I die.
"this'll be the day that I die."

Did you write the book of inconvenient petrol love,
And are you afraid of CO2 above,
If Al Gore tells you so?
Do you believe in global warming rock 'n roll,
Can OPEC's music save our immortal souls,
And can you teach us how to consume real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin in the inconvenient gym.
You both kicked off your high heeled political shoes.
Man, I dig those high octane rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncing buck
With a pink Corvette and a GMC Jimmy pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the cheap oil music died.

I started singin,
bye-bye, high octane American guy.
Drove my Chevy to the bailout levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old gas guzzling boys were drinkin premium unleaded and rye
Singin, "this'll be the day that I die.
"this'll be the day that I die."


There's no intelligent life here...

"Generous Moronus - - - - the Final Frontier.

These are the voyages of the starship, Bailout Enterprise.
Its open ended mission: to explore strange, new worlds of management ineptitude, to seek out new forms of institutional excess and corporate welfare, to boldly bail where no US Administration has bailed before."

Saturday, May 30, 2009


NYT--When a new crop of future business leaders graduates from the Harvard Business School next week, many of them will be taking a new oath that says, in effect, greed is not good.

Here are excerpts from the Havard MBA oath:

I promise:

* I will act with utmost integrity and pursue my work in an ethical manner.
* I will safeguard the interests of my shareholders, co-workers, customers and the society in which we operate.
* I will manage my enterprise in good faith, guarding against decisions and behavior that advance my own narrow ambitions but harm the enterprise and the societies it serves.
* I will understand and uphold, both in letter and in spirit, the laws and contracts governing my own conduct and that of my enterprise.
* I will take responsibility for my actions, and I will represent the performance and risks of my enterprise accurately and honestly.
* I will develop both myself and other managers under my supervision so that the profession continues to grow and contribute to the well-being of society.
* I will strive to create sustainable economic, social, and environmental prosperity worldwide.

If you want to change this into a managerial report card for errant CEOs, simply change the words "I will" to "Did he".



WASHINGTON POST--A federal judge in Michigan has declined to dismiss an ex-Marine's lawsuit that insurance giant AIG is using tax dollars to promote Islamic Sharia law and charities that may be funneling money to terrorist organizations.

The federal judge hasn't ruled on the merits of the case, but he did acknowledge that "at least two of AIG's subsidiary companies practice Sharia-compliant financing, one of which was unveiled after the influx of government cash." He also noted "That after the government acquired a majority interest in AIG and contributed substantial funds to AIG for operational purposes, the government co-sponsored a forum entitled "Islamic Finance 101."

Just when you thought the government's massive bailout of AIG couldn't get more complicated or controversial.

What else is in there?

Friday, May 29, 2009


(PINK CADILLAC, Jerry Lee Lewis)

They may think we're foolish
For the foolish bailout things we do
They may wonder how come the US of A loves ya
When you get on our nerves like you do
Well baby you know you bug us
There ain't no secret 'bout that
Well come on over here and mug us
Baby lets spill the sad financial facts
Well honey it ain't your money 'Cause baby Uncle Sam got plenty of that'

We love you for them pink Bailout Cadillacs
Crushed velvet seats Riding in the back
Oozing from Wall to Main Street
Waving to the bailout girls
Feeling out of sight
Spending all the taxpayer's money
On a TARP hoedown Saturday night
Honey we just wonder what you doin in the back
Of your pink Bailout Cadillac
Pink Bailout Cadillac

Well now way back when in Bailout Town
Temptations always came along
There's always some foolish tempting
Somebody into doing something they know is wrong
Well they tempt you, man, with cheap gas
And they tempt you, sir, with SUV gold
And they tempt you with the pleasures
That automotive flesh does surely hold
They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple
But man I ain't going for that

I know it was that pink Bailout Cadillac
Crushed velvet seats
Riding in the back
Oozing down the street
Waving to the bailout girls
Feeling out of sight
Spending all the taxpayer's money
On a TARP hoedown Saturday night
Honey I just wonder what you doin in the back
Of your pink Bailout Cadillac

Now some folks say Generous Motor's too big
And burns too much greenhouse gas
Some folks say it's too old
And that the UAWs too fat
But our love is bigger than a Honda
It's bigger than a Subaru
Hey man there's only one thing
And one car that will do
Anyway we don't have to drive it
Honey we can park it out in back



WSJ--A group of banks and money managers plan to release a letter to the Federal Reserve Bank of New York and other U.S. and overseas regulators to help fend off some rules proposed by the Obama administration that seek to control trading in the derivatives market.

Pink Floyd, Brick in the Wall)

We don’t need no regulation
We dont need no risk control
No dark sarcasm in the court rooms
Hey Geithner leave us banks alone
Hey! Obama! Leave them banks alone!
All in all it’s just another trick from the Wall.
All in all its just another trick from the Wall.

We don’t need no regulation
We dont need no risk control
No dark sarcasm in the hearing room
People leave us banks alone
Hey! Waxman! Leave them banks alone!
All in all it’s just another trick from the Wall.
All in all you’re just another mark for the Wall.

Stand still Laddy

“Wrong, Do it again!”
“If you don’t screw yer customers, you can’t be dishonest. How can you
be honest if you work on the Street?”
“You! Yes, you behind the trading screen, screw that pension fund!”


NYT--Bing, the name Microsoft gave to the new search service it unveiled Thursday, is its answer to Google — a noun that once meant little but has become part of the language as a verb that is a synonym for executing a Web search. After months of, uh, searching, Microsoft settled on Bing to replace the all-too-forgettable Live Search, which itself replaced MSN Search.

BANZAI7 NEWS just looked up BING in the Urban Dictionary and found the following entry made March 1, 2005:

"Someone who blatantly attempts to hide a lack of understanding in a skilled discipline (particularly in computing), using arrogance and the humiliation of others as key methods."

This sounds like the Microsoft M/O.

But wait, what about Chinese Actress Bing, Bing (aka Yum Yum):

Or the well known Badda Bing Club:

Fuggetabout it! Hows about Adult Entertainment Actress Carmela Bing:

This is who comes up on top of a GOOGLE Image Search of "Bing".

Badda Bing! Badda Banzai7!

MAY 29--BANZAI7 LABS announces plans to offer BANZAI7 SEARCH--An engine that generates search results in parody and satirical form.

Who is he????

Note: One of these days someone is going to bring you MUMBAI Search: Just type in your query and you will be immediately chat connected with your dedicated live search team leader "Sanjit Find-it."

Thursday, May 28, 2009


NYT---Soon after the story broke last year that then-Gov. Eliot Spitzer had been a customer of a high-priced prostitution ring, the owners of Town Prowler, a 2-year-old thoroughbred, changed his name.

They drew inspiration from a headline in a New York City tabloid: Luv Gov.

It took Luv Gov 10 tries to win his first race, and as a long shot in the Preakness on May 16, he finished eighth. Now Luv Gov’s trainer, D. Wayne Lukas, has decided to go for the longest leg of the Triple Crown, the Belmont Stakes, on June 6.

(His Name is Mr. Ed)

A horse is a horse
Of course of course
And no one can talk with so much remorse,
Of course
That is, of
Unless the horse
Is the famous Elliot!

Go right to the source
And ask with great moral force
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse
About that crooked Wall Street bourse
Talk to Elliot!

People yakkity-yak a blogging streak
And waste your time of day
But Elliot will never speak
Unless he has some bloggering to say!

Oh, a horse is a horse
Of course, of course
And this one's a genuine tour de force
You never heard of a talking horse?

Well, listen to this:
". . . I am Elliot!


WSJ--A government program designed to rid banks of bad loans, part of a broader effort once viewed as central to tackling the financial crisis, is stalling and may soon be put on hold, according to people familiar with the matter.

The Legacy Loans Program, being crafted by the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp., is part of the $1 trillion Public Private Investment Program the Obama administration announced in March as a way to encourage banks to sell securities and loans weighing on their balance sheets to willing investors.

(Fidelity Fiduciary Bank, Mary Poppins)

Sing along link:

Father, these are private equity investors....

If you invest your tuppence
Wisely in Geithner's public/private toxic asset tank
Safe and sound?
Soon that tuppence,
Safely invested in the toxic asset tank,
Might compound!

And you'll achieve that sense of conquest
As the Fed's non-recourse loans expand
In the hands of the private asset managers
Who invest as propriety demands

You see, you'll be part of
McMansions in the Nevada desert
Vacant subdivisons from Detroit to Fresno
Fleets of repossessed mobile homes
Majestic negative-amortizing Miami coops
Plantations of ripening securitised sub-prime....

All from tuppence, prudently
Fruitfully, frugally invested
In the, to be specific,
Geithner's Federal
Financial Stability
Public Private
Toxic Asset Tank!

When you co-invest your tuppence in the Feds toxic asset tank
Soon you'll see
That it blooms into equity returns of a generous amount
And you'll achieve that sense of stature
As your NAV expands
To the high financial strata
That established private equity now commands

You can indirectly purchase first and second home equity loans
Think of the foreclosures!
Mortgages! CLOs! CDOs, synthetic CDOs!
Bankruptcies! Debtor sales!

All manner of public/private enterprise!
Auctioned ALT A! Subprime!
Collateralized liar loans! Securitized no doc SPVs!
Distressed offshore SIVs! Amalgamations! Bad banks!

You see,
Tuppence, patiently, cautiously trustingly invested
In the, to be specific,
Tim Geithner's
Federal Financial Stability
Public Private
Toxic Asset Tank!

Welcome to our joyful family of PIPP investors!!!!!!

Wednesday, May 27, 2009


Yahoo Inc. CEO Carol Bartz said Wednesday she would be open to partnering with companies like Microsoft Corp. on Internet search but it would take "boatloads of money" and the right technology match to make a deal happen.

Yahoo, the place where boatloads of brains are surely lacking.


Richie Valens

Sing along link:

Para bailar con Sotomayora
Para bailar con Sotomayora
Se necesita una poca de gracia
Una poca de gracia para mi para ella
Arriba y arriba
Arriba y arriba
Por ella seré
Por ella seré
No soy GOP bandito
No soy GOP bandito
Soy Presidente Obamo
Soy Presidente Obamo
Soy Presidente Obamo


BANZAI7 News--Undisclosed sources have disclosed that North Korean leader Kim Jong IL is a bondholder of General Motors. The disclosures also indicate that Kim was a big purchaser of Chrysler and GM credit default swaps in trades opposite American International Group.

Knowledgeable unknown sources indicate that Dear Leader will lose his shirt if GM files for Chapter 11 as expected on June 1. Dear Leader was apparently infuriated by the terms of GM's proposed exchange offer and rumors that the UAW is slated to receive more equity in a Federal financed bankruptcy restructuring.

Intelligence analysts suspect that the controversy created by North Korean missile launches and bomb tests is actually an elaborate smoke screen for a new kind of derivative instrument called a Kimchee Put. Dear Leader was once heard commenting: "FWMD, do I have that?"

When queried by Representative Cummings about credit default trades with North Korea, AIG CEO Ed Liddy said: "I'll have to look into it."

Asked to comment on Kimchee puts, Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner said: "The whole idea stinks." Secretary Geithner has scheduled an emergency trip to China to discuss a possible Kimchee Put counter hedge, known as the TIC TAC Call.

Kim's father Kim II Sung ("Kimchee Kahuna") was a well known water board enthusiast.


Sing along:

We're So Ronery
We're ronery
So ronery
So ronery and sadry arone

There's no one
Just us onry
Sitting on our rittle bondholder throne
We hedged very hard and made up great derivative prans
But nobody ristens, no one understands
Seems that no one takes us creditors serirousry

And so we're ronery
A little ronery
Poor rittre we

There's nobody
We can rerate to
Feer rike bondholder birds in a Motown cage
It's kinda sihry
But not rearry
Because it's fihring our bodies with rage

We work rearry hard and we're financiaarry fit
But nobody here seems to rearize that
When we rure the automotive FWMD world maybe they'rr notice us
But untir then I'rr just be ronery
Rittre ronery, poor rittre we
We're so ronery
We're so ronery


"This gentleman obiviously has a long and rich future working for The Onion. Extremely well done."

Business Analyst on

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Socialistic Networking (Web

NEW YORK (AP) — Facebook is getting a $200 million investment from a Russian Internet investor that values the social networking company at $10 billion.

Could this be the dawn of Siberian Alley?

Powerful Russian personal telecommunications device running complex parabolic curve visual simulation.

Sunday, May 24, 2009


At 0900 EST on September 15, 2008, every every trading desk in the world started to flicker. A quarter of a billion traders looked at their screens, and stared for a few seconds stupefied. Those who had been awakened by their blackberries in the middle of the night assumed that some mistake had been made and called in. But there was no voice on the line; only a sound, which to many seemed like the roaring of the sea; to others, like the vibrations of harp strings in the wind. And there were many more, in that moment, who recalled the horrific noise of blood pulsing through the veins, heard when your brand new Maserati is about to hit a Wall. Whatever it was, it lasted no more than twenty seconds. Then it was replaced by the A-I-G dialtone.

From Dial F for Frankenstein
Arthuer C Clarke

Friday, May 22, 2009


(Lets Do the Time Warp, Rocky Horror Picture Show)

Sing along link:

It's astounding, political legacies are fleeting
Madness rules the polls
But listen closely, not for very much longer
We Neo-Con freaks got to keep control

I remember doing the Neo-Con Warp
Drinking those moments when
The blankness would hit me and the intellectual void would be calling
Let's do the Neo-Con warp again...
Let's do the Neo-Con warp again!

It's just a big kick to the moderate left
And then a big step to the radical right
With your hands on your Neo-Con hips
You bring your knobby knees in tight
But it's the public's trust that really drives you insane,
Let's do the Neo-Con Warp again!

It's so dreamy, oh fantasy free me
So you can't see me, no not at all
In another dimension, with anti-constitutional intentions
Self-deluded, I rule all
With a bit of a legalistic mind flip
You're off water boardin on a Guantanimo surf trip
And nothing can or ever will be the same
You're spaced out on enhanced interrogation sensations, you're under no wimp Geneva sedation
Let's do the Neo-Con Warp again!

It's just a big kick to the moderate left
And then a big step to the radical right
With your hands on your Neo-Con hips
You bring your knobby knees in tight
But it's the public's trust that really drives you insane,
Let's do the Neo-Con Warp again!

Well I was walking down the street just a-having a think
When a snake of a Neo-Con freak gave me an evil wink
He shook me up, he took me by surprise
He had a pickup truck and the devil's eyes.
He stared at me and I felt a change
Personal freedom meant nothing, never would again
Let's do the Neo-Con Warp again!



He rode a Blazing Straddle
He wore a bailout star
His job to offer battle to bad bankers near and far

He conquered fear and he conquered greed
He turned bear night into bull market day
He made his Blazing Straddle
a torch to light the way

When outlaws ruled on Wall Street
And fear filled market land
A cry went out for a man with guts to take Wall Street in hand
They needed a man who was brave and true with justice for all investors as his aim

Then out of the meltdown Sun rode a man with a bailout gun
And TARP was his name
Yes TARP was his name

He rode a blazing straddle
He wore a bailout star
His job to offer battle to bad bankers near and far

He conquered fear and he conquered greed
He turned bear night into bull market day
He made his blazing straddle a torch to light the way


Washington Post--The Obama administration is preparing to send General Motors into bankruptcy as early as the end of next week under a plan that would give the automaker tens of billions of dollars more in public financing as the company seeks to shrink and reemerge as a global competitor, sources familiar with the discussions said.



Screw your Bond's today in your Chevrolet
America is inviting you to the bailout mall
Drive your credit rates through the old tail gate
America's the greatest bailout land of all!

On the bailout highway or a bankrupt road along the old TARP levy
Non-performance is sweeter
Nothing can be deadbeater
Welfare living is completer when your Chevy

So make a date today to flush your bonds away
And do it in your Bailout Chevrolet.

Travelin East
Travelin West
Wherever you go give your debt service a rest

Southward or North,
Near place or far,
There's another squeaker brought to you by those Motown canards

Screw your Bonds today in your Chevrolet
Those Wall Street hedge fund pests are all but through

Drive your Chevrolet on the USA
Where fields of bailout gold and handout treats are given to the privileged few

Whether travelin light or with a debt load that is heavy
Non performance is sweeter
Nothin can be deadbeater
Welfare living is completer when your Chevy

So make a date today to flush your bonds away
And do it in your Bailout Chevrolet.


"The UK has a strategic nightmare: it has a strong comparative advantage in the world’s most irresponsible industry."

Martin Wolf FT


Gillian Tett in Today's FT on Geithner's Public Private Investment Partnership:

"[T]he PPIP has already served one extremely valuable function by highlighting the sheer insanity that has bedevilled the financial world in relation to asset prices.

Most notably, if large American banks had previously marked their assets at a realistic market-based price, they would not be so scared of engaging in auctions with PPIP now. Better still, they might have spotted earlier the degree to which their assets were deteriorating – and taken action to address it.

But precisely because the supposedly “free market” western financial system has become stuffed with complex assets that were rarely traded – even during the credit boom – banks have been able to use fantasy prices for their assets for years. Hence their continued horror at the idea of open trading.

That is the real scandal that bedevils the PPIP idea. That in turn points to a wider lesson for the future: namely that to avoid a similar credit disaster, it is crucial that financiers are forced to place as much financial activity as possible on transparent trading arenas. Better still, they need to do that well before a bubble bursts – or there is any need to start fighting over whether a PPIP can truly fly."


Image by WilliamBanzai7 (2007)

Thursday, May 21, 2009



NYT--"The American International Group said Thursday afternoon that Edward M. Liddy was stepping down as chairman and chief executive of the troubled insurance conglomerate, The New York Times’s Mary Williams Walsh reports."

No need to read between the lines on this one. The carcass has served its final dubious purpose. Who knows how long it will be left to rot in the shadow bailout sun.


(Who Killed Davey Moore, Bob Dylan)

Who killed the Newsprint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

"Not I," says the mogul of Cable TV,
"Don't point your ink stained finger at me.
I could've stopped it on Channel 108
An' maybe kept them from his fate,
But the audience would've booed, I'm sure,
At not gettin' their money's worth.
It's too bad they had to go,
But there was a pressure on me too, you know.
It wasn't me that made them fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."

Who killed the Newsprint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

"Not us," says the hyper web connected crowd,
Whose clicks filled the ethernet cloud.
"It's too bad they've suffered this plight
But we just like to Web surf all day and all night.
We didn't mean for them t' meet this death,
We're just like to read on the internet,
There ain't nothing wrong in that.
It wasn't us that made them fall.
No, you can't blame us at all."

Who killed the Newsprint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

"Not me," says Google's CEO star,
Puffing on a big fat Google cigar.
"It's hard to say, it's hard to tell,
We always thought that they were well.
It's too bad for all good Netizen's that they're dead,
But if they were sick, they should've said.
It wasn't me that made them fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."

Who killed the Newsprint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

"Not me," says the advertising man,
With his online rate card still in his hand.
"It wasn't me that knocked them down,
My hands never touched them none.
I didn't commit no ugly sin,
Anyway, I put money on them to win.
It wasn't me that made them fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."

Who killed the Newsprint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

"Not me," says the Luddite newspaper writer,
Pounding print on his old Smith Corona typewriter,
Sayin', "Good old journalists ain't to blame,
There's just no money in a paperless print game."
Sayin', "News journalism is here to stay,
It's just the old American way.
It wasn't me that made them fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."

Who killed the Newsrint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

"Not me," says the blogger whose posts
Laid them low in a cloud of free editorial mist,
Who came here from outside the media club door
From the digital world where the golden rule is not less but more.
"We hit them, yes, it's true,
But that's what I am NOT paid to do.
Don't say 'murder,' don't say 'kill.'
It was destiny, it was the media God's will."

Who killed the Newsprint Industry,
Why an' what's the reason for?

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


It is necessarily part of the business of a banker to maintain appearances and to maintain a conventional respectability which is more than human. Lifelong practices of this kind make them the most romantic and least realistic of men. It is so much their stock-in-trade that their position should not be questioned, that they do not even question it themselves, until it is too late.

John Maynard Keynes



WilliamBanzai7's Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

Nouriel Roubini is such a prescient and fastidious Cat
He likes to lick his paws clean
Then tell us where we're at.

When Fat Cats preen and prance
their cagey Fat Cat beat all over Fat Cat Town.
Nouriel emerges from his lair.
Then says "this is a dead Fat Cat bounce"

Those Fat Cats don't think much of him
They say he's as scaredy as a tweety bird.
But lets be serious do you really think
you should be following that Fat Cat herd?

Before the subprime Fat Cat meltdown.
Nouriel said with great disdain,
"That Fat Cat parade will be short lived
and forecast financial rain."

Now some say economists are superstitious Cats
their predictions are absurd.
But me I'd sooner listen to that hip Cat Nouriel
than feast on Fat Cat turds.

DEAD FAT CAT BOUNCE--Why I'm Paying Attention to Roubini Again

WIKIPEDIA--A "dead cat bounce" is a figurative term used by traders in the finance industry to describe a pattern wherein a spectacular decline in the price of a stock is immediately followed by a moderate and temporary rise before resuming its downward movement, with the connotation that the rise was not an indication of improving circumstances in the fundamentals of the stock. It is derived from the notion that "even a dead cat will bounce if it falls from a great height".

Fat Cats hate rain. In particular, they hate rain coming down on their Fat Cat parades...and what a parade we have of late. Have you noticed all the self congratulatory ticker tape noise coming from Fat Cat Street lately?

We are hearing about the Fat Cat rush to send the TARP cream back to Uncle Sam. Fat Cat institutions are scrambling to raise cat food money. Somebody, god knows who, is actually buying their Fat Cat shares on the premise that they will be best positioned to reap the felonious feline benefits of the Fat Cat recovery which is already in motion (so they would have us believe).

Fat Cats are starting to pontificate about how TARP and the whole bruhaha over Fat Cat compensation were commendable but misguided. Warrants???!#* You don't need no stiiiiinking warrants, say the Fat Cay Banditos.

Well there is one cagey Cat who keeps doing a Fat Cat rain dance, just like he did before the Fat Cat sub-prime parade got caught in the mother of all meltdown monsoons. Nouriel Roubini. Nouriel the Scaredy Cat says we are in the middle of s "suckers rally."
He is also caught in a shouting match with the fools who think the Chinese RMB/USD imbalance is not a problem. Who do you want to believe?

Lets look back at the past four months.

1. Huge Fat Cat write downs, and alot more still to go.

2. Lots of public anger about Fat Cat bonus capers. Bonus caps cause a state of Fat Cat emergency.

3. Huge economic stimulus package passed. "Infrastructure is better than restructure."

4. Plenty of Fat Cat hocus pocus (e.g., Goldman's disappearing December numbers) pump fresh Fat Cat exuberance.

5. Fat Cat first quarter numbers show Fat Cat trading gains and Fat Cat fee income from refinancing Fat Cat mortgages and recapitalising Fat Cat banks.

6. Geithner announces and completes Fat Cat stress tests. Fat Cats get a "transparent" bill of health.

Presto, why do we need to fix anything? Everything is going just fine.

"Horse Feathers"!!!!! hip cat lingo for "bull shit!"

What has not happened? Unemployment numbers have not improved. Consumers are not spending. Defaults (corporate and individual) are accelerating, not abating. Toxic Cat food has not been restructured, its been carefully buried by the Fat Cats.

As our former great exalted Fat Cat leader "W" once said: "I'm not an economist."

Well that Cat Nouriel is, and this Cat is once again paying attention to what that Cat has to say about the fabled "Dead Fat Cat Bounce."

Tuesday, May 19, 2009


(SKIMBLESHANKS: THE RAILWAY CAT, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

There's a whisper down the line at 11.39
When the TARP Metroliner's ready to depart,
Saying `Skimble where is Skimble has he gone to hunt the Gold bailout thimble?
We must find him or the TARP train can't start.'
All the guards and all the porters and the stationmaster's daughters
They are searching high and low,
Saying `Skimble where is Skimble for unless he's very nimble
Then the TARP Metroliner just can't go.'
At 11.42 then the AIG collateral call's nearly due
And the CDS counter party passengers are frantic to a man -
Then Skimble-Hank will appear and he'll saunter to the rear:
He's been busy in the bailout luggage van!
He gives one flash of his glass-blue eyes
And the signal goes `All Clear!'
And we're off at last for the northern part
Of the Bailout Hemisphere!

You may say that by and large it is Skimble-Hank who's in charge
Of the Bailout Express.
From Bernanke the Fed conductor and his guards to the NY Fed bagmen playing bailout chess
He will supervise them all, more or less.
Down the corridor he paces and examines all the faces
Of the investment bankers in the First and commercial bankers in the Third;
He establishes control by a regular patrol
And he'd know at once if anything occurred.
He will watch you without winking and he sees what you are thinking
And it's certain that he doesn't approve
Of hilarity and riot, so the folk are very quiet
When Skimble-Hank is about and on them over.
You can play no pranks with Skimble-Hank!
He's a Fed Fat Cat that cannot be ignored;
So nothing goes wrong on the Bailout Express
When Skimbles-Hanks is aboard.

Oh it's very pleasant when you have found your little bailout den
With your name written up on the door.
And the berth is very neat with a newly folded balance sheet
And there's not a speck of toxic asset dust on the floor.
There is every sort of opaque light - you can make it dark or bright;
There's a button that you turn to shoot the breeze.
There's a funny little basin you're supposed to wash your dodgy assets in
And a crank to shut the subprime window if you sneeze.
Then the guard looks in politely and will ask you very brightly
`do you like your morning bailout tea weak or strong?'
But Skimble-Hank's just behind him and was ready to remind him,
For Skimble won't let anything go wrong.
And when you creep into your cosy bailout berth
And call up your worried counterparties,
You are bound to admit that it's very nice
To know that your won't be bothered by creditor mice -
You can leave all that to the Bailout Railway Cat,
The Fed Fat Cat of the TARP Bailout Train!

In the middle of the night he is always fresh and bright;
Every now and then he has a cup of Goldman Sachs tea
With perhaps a drop of Goldman Sachs Scotch while he's keeping his gold Goldman watch,
Only stopping here and there to catch a systemic flea.
You were fast asleep at two and so you never knew
That he was walking up and down the bank rescue station;
You were sleeping all the while he was busy with Bernanke in deep contemplation,
Then he greets the Capital Hill stationmaster with elation.
But you saw him at Lehman, where he summons the Fed police
If there's anything they ought to know about:
when your lead to the AIG gallows there you do not have to worry -
For Skimbles-Hank will help you to get out!
He gives you a wave of his long pinstriped tail
Which says: `I'll see you again!
You'll meet without fail on the TARP Midnight Metroliner
The Fed Fat Cat of the TARP Bailout Train.'


NYT--"Deutsche Bank continues to beef up its investment banking business at the expense of Merrill Lynch, as it has hired another Merrill banker, Jim Ratigan, who will become a managing director in the bank’s industrial sector mergers and acquisitions group in the Americas."

You see Sherman, the Merrill bankers are jumping ship because they don't want their compensation capped inasmuch as BAC is a TARP welfare queen.

But Mr. Peabody, didn't Deutsche Bank get bailed through the AIG back door just like Goldman Sachs.

That's right Sherman, Goldman and Deutsche are both AIG backdoor welfare queens, but zee German's are not capped like the American queens.

Sheesh, what idiot cooked this up Mr. P?

One hint, Sherman, he is a Goldman man.

GERMANY INC. vs UNCLE SAM (Bailout Round 2)

NYT--"Tesla Motors, the electric car start-up, has a new investor: Daimler AG, the German car company.

Tesla makes the Roadster electric sports car and in March, unveiled its Model S sedan, which is scheduled to hit the roads in 2011."

Here is the Tesla electric roadster Daimler is investing in:

Here is the Chrysler that Uncle Sam is bailing out.

Duhhhhh, did'nt Daimler dump Chrysler a few years back Mr. Peabody. That's right Sherman, but what do they know about cars?


(Teenage Lobotomy, The Ramones)

This economy, lobotomy, this economy, lobotomy!
Wall Street did a job on thee
Now you are a real sickie
Guess I'll have to break the news
That we got not much more to lose
All the uptown girls love Wall Street greed
Now we're living a capitalistic lobotomy

FBI and SEC are after me
FWMD keeps me happy
Now I guess I'll have to tell 'em
That I got no economic cerebellum
Gonna get my Ph.D.
I'm a capitalistic lobotomy


NYT Dealbook--"General Motors may be trying to stay out of bankruptcy, but it’s taking all precautions. That apparently includes the purchase of a Web address for its potential bankruptcy filing.

An alert Ray Wert at Jalopnik reported on Monday that the domain name is now taken. It’s blank right now, but a WHOIS search shows that it was created April 6 and is now registered to G.M."

Not to worry, the Banzai7 organization has determined that the following domains remain available:


See more at:


This just arrived from the Banza7 correspondent in Thailand.

For all you depressed citizens enraged about the bailout craze, here it is what it is like to get schtupped in public.

Monday, May 18, 2009


Here is a picture of Ken Screwless Lewis' pimped out Lincoln Navigator (c/o DealBreaker).

We asked Ricardo Montalban (is he still alive?) to help describe this fine example of four wheeled Charlotte/Wall Street banker wannabee vanity.


He knows his own needs, and what he knows he needs from an automobile, Ken "Screwless" Lewis gets from this pimped out Lincoln Navigator Custom Bailout Special. I Ricardo (Fantasy Island) Montalban could ask for nothing beyond the quality of a timeless Chrysler Cordoba. But, for a two bit bailout bandito like Ken, much more is necessary to satisfy his manly desires.

Behold, the Bailout Special. Notice the lack of fine Corinthian leather, notice the tacky chrome detailing, the sky bailout blue finish and truly pitiful vanity plate which announces the arrival of a triple AAA CEO dimwit who thinks he is a true swinging Wall Street "cahone" ....but, whose brains are barely the size of my trusted friend Tattoo's left cahone (sorry Tattoo).

What more can I say, the man's taste is as questionable as his judgement as a CEO, and is rivaled only by the caballero who keeps a commode in his office.


(The Pekes and the Pollicles, Old Possums Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

The GO-Pekes and the DEM-Pollicles, everyone knows,
Are proud and implacable passionate foes;
It is always the same, wherever one goes.
And the GO-Pugs and the DEM-Poms, although most people say
That they do not like fighting, will often display
Every symptom of wanting to join in the fray.
And they
Bark bark bark bark
Bark bark BARK BARK
Until you can hear them all yapping over the Mall Park.

Now on the occasion of which I shall speak
Almost nothing had happened for nearly a 8 weeks
(And that's a long time for a DEM-Pol or a GO-Peke).
The big Police Dog was away from his beat -
I don't know the reason, but most people think
He'd slipped into the Hawk n Dove for a drink -
And no one at all was about on the street
When a GO-Peke and a DEM-Pollicle happened to meet.
They did not advance, or exactly retreat,
But they glared at each other and scraped their hind feet,
And started to
Bark bark bark bark
Bark bark BARK BARK
Until you could hear them all over Monument Park.

Now the GO-Peke, although people may say what they please,
Is no average Dog, but a Heathen Neo-con Geek.
And so all the GO-Pekes, when they heard the uproar,
Some came to the White House window, some came to the Capital door;
There were surely a doyen, more likely a score.
And together they started to grumble and wheeye
In their huffery-snuffery Heathen Neo-Con jive.
But a terrible din is what DEM-Pollicles like,
for your DEM-Pollicle Dog is a dour Yorkshire tyke,
And his braw Scottish cousins are snappers and biters,
And every dog-jack of them notable fighters;
And so they stepped out, with their campaign pipers in order,
Playing When the Blue Dunces Came Over the Border.
Then the GO-Pugs and the DEM-Poms held no longer aloof,
But some from the balcony, some from the roof,
Joined in
To the din
With a
Bark bark bark bark
Bark bark BARK BARK
Until you could hear them all over Monument Park.

Now when these bold heroes together assembled,
The traffic all stopped, and the Beltway corps trembled,
And some of the neighbours were so much afraid
That they started to ring up the Election Fire Brigade.
When suddenly, up from a small basement flat,
Why who should stalk out but the GREAT OBAM-PUSCAT.
His eyes were like fireballs fearfully blazing,
He gave a serious yawn, and his jaws were amazing;
And when he looked out and reconnoitered the area,
You never saw anything fiercer or hairier.
And what with the glare of his eyes and his impressive yawning,
The GO-Pekes and the GO-PUGs quickly took warning.
He looked at the District sky and he gave a great leap -
And they every last one of them scattered like sheep.

And when the Police Dog returned to his Election Day beat,
There wasn't a single GO-PEKE left in the street.

Note: I know this is not directly about Wall Street Fat Cats, but I thought this was the proper subject matter for this poem.


Samurai Blogger


(Run Tum Tiger, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

The Rum Dumb Trader is a greedy Fat Cat:
If you offer him $tock he would rather have bond$.
If you put him in a fund he would much prefer a bank,
If you put him in a bank then he'd rather be in a boutique.
If you $et him on a mouse call then he only want$ a rat put,
If you $et him on a rat call then he'd rather chase a mouse put.
Yes the Rum Dumb Trader is a greedy Fat Cat -
And there isn't any call for me to $hout it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!

The Rum Dumb Trader is too incorrigible to ignore:
When you let him be Mr. In$ide, then he wants to be Mr. Out$ide;
He's always on the wrong $ide of every revolving door,
And as $oon as he's in, then he'd like to get out.
He likes to lie on the trading room floor,
But he makes such a fu$$ if he can't get more $!.
Yes the Rum Dumb Trader is a greedy Fat Cat -
And there isn't any call for you to doubt it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!

The Rum Dumb Trader is a curious beast:
His disobliging ways are a matter of trader habit.
If you offer him easy take home fi$h then he always wants a bonus fea$t;
When there isn't any easy fish then he won't eat investor rabbit.
If you offer him $tock option cream then he $niffs and $neers,
For he only likes what $ he can take home for him$elf;
So you'll catch him in it right up to the ears,
If you put it ($) away on the rainy day $helf.
The Rum Dumb Trader is conceited and all knowing,
The Rum Dumb trader doesn't care for a hug or a $nuggle;
But he'll leap on your back no matter what your undergoing,
For there's nothing he enjoys like a horrible $$$ muddle.
Yes the Rum Dumb Trader is a Curious Fat Cat -
And there isn't any call for me to $pout it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!


NYT---“Analysts at Goldman raised BofA from “neutral” to “buy” and added the company to their so-called conviction list of recommended stocks.”

Professional courtesy among financial welfare queens.

Sunday, May 17, 2009


Chairman Cox demonstrates his command of Sarbanes Oxley Act.

Big Money--The Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post lead with explanations of the insider-trading probe at the SEC. A recent report alleges that employees of the SEC traded stocks of certain companies that, at the time, were under investigation by the agency.

No wonder Mac-Madoff never got nailed, SEC Enforcement Division was too busy day trading!

Yup, you done one heckuva job Commissioner Cox!


(Growl-Tiger's Last Stand, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

Spitz-tiger was an AG Cat, who traveled on a prosecutorial barge:
In fact he was the roughest toughest AG Cat that ever roamed at large.
From Battery Park to Park he pursued his aim,
Rejoicing in his title of `The Terror of the Financial Services Con Game'.

His manners and appearance did not calculate to please;
His coat was torn at the sleeve, he was baggy at the knees;
One ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why,
And he scowled upon a hostile financial world from his forbidding blue eyes.

Those FAT Cat codgers Hank Greenberg and Sandy Weil knew something of his fame;
At AIG and CITI Fat Cats shuddered at his name.
They would fortify the pent-house, lock up the golden goose,
When the rumour ran along the shore: SPITZ-TIGER'S ON THE LOOSE!

Woe to the Wall Street canary, that fluttered from his cage;
Woe to the pampered Pekinese banker cheat, that faced Spitz-Tiger's rage;
Woe to the crooked banker rat, that lurks on investment banking ships,
And woe to any wiley Fat Cat with whom Spitz-Tiger came to grips!

But of the Wall Street Fat Cats that his hatred had been vowed;
To Fat Cats of avarice and greed no quarter was allowed.
The NYSE and Merrill regarded him with fear -
Because if Wall Street mice were at play Spitz-Tiger'd be the first to hear.

Now on a peaceful summer night, all nature seemed at play,
The tender moon was shining bright, the barge at South Street lay.
All in the balmy Brooklyn moonlight it lay rocking on the tide -
And Spitz-tiger was disposed to show his sentimental side.

In the forepeak of the vessel Spitz-tiger sat,
Concentrating his attention on "Kristan" or Ashley Alexandra Dupre, a working Kitty Kat
And his raffish crew were sleeping in their barrels and their bunks -
As the Spitz-Tiger's foes came creeping in their sampans and their junks.

Spitz-tiger had no George Fox eye but for Kitty,
And the Lady seemed enraptured by his courtroom baritone,
Disposed to relaxation, and awaiting no surprise -
But the moonlight shone reflected from a hundred bright enemy eyes.

And closer still and closer the sampans circled round,
And yet from all the enemy there was not heard a sound.
The lovers sang their last duet, in danger of their lives -
For the foe was armed with Fat Cat pitch forks and Republican carving knives.

Then US Attorney GARCIA gave the signal to his fierce prosecutorial horde;
With a frightful burst of firework they swarmed aboard.
Abandoning their sampans, and their pullaways and junks,
They battened down the hatches on the crew within their bunks.

Then Kitty Cat Kristan she gave a screech, for she was badly skeered;
I am sorry to admit it, but she quickly disappeared.
She probably escaped with ease, I'm sure she was not drowned -
But a serried ring of flashing Fed steel Spitz-Tiger did surround.

The ruthless foe pressed forward, in stubborn rank on rank;
Spitz-Tiger to his vast surprise was forced to walk the Federal plank.
He who a hundred Fat Cat victims had driven to that drop,
At the end for all their crimes he was forced to go ker-flip, ker-flop.

Oh there was tasty schadenfreude cream on Wall Street when the news flew through blog land;
At Nantucket and East Hampton there were Fat Cats dancing in the sand.
Rats were roasted whole on Park Avenue, and at Larchmont Dock,
And a day of swindling Fat Cat celebration was commanded from NY to Bangkok.

Saturday, May 16, 2009


The Ad-dressing of Fat Cats
(The Ad-dressing of Cats, Old Possums Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

You've read of several kinds of Fat Cat,
And my opinion now is that
You should need no interpreter
to understand their shady character.
You now have learned enough to see
That Fat Cats are unfortunately much like you and me
And other people whome we find
Possessed of various types of irrationally exuberant mind.
Some are sane and many are mad
And some are good and even more are bad
And some are better, some still worse -
But all may be described in satirical verse.
You've seen them work their con games,
And learnt about their proper and improper names,
Their habits and their habitat:
How would you ad-dress a Wall Street Fat Cat?

So first, your memory I'll jog,

Now Average Dogs pretend they have financial foresight;
They often bark, more often not right;
But yet an Average Dog is, on the whole,
What you would call a regular soul.
Of course I'm not including day trading geeks,
And some other fantastic canine quant freaks.
The Average Dog seen hanging around lower downtown
Is much inclined to play a wealthy rich clown,
And far from showing a keen trading eye
Is frequently totally undignified.
He's very easily taken in -
Just chuck him underneath a power point pitch
Or slap his back or shake his paw,
And he will gamble and guffaw.
He's such an easy-going clueless lout,
He'll answer any hail or shout without nary a "due diligence" bout.

Again I must remind you that
A Dog's a Dog - A FAT CAT'S A FAT CAT.

With Fat Cats, some say, one rule is true:
Don't speak till you are spoken to.
Myself, I do not hold with that -
I say, you should ad-dress a Fat Cat.
But always keep in mind that he
Resents investor familiarity.
I bow, and keeping on my hat,
Ad-dress him in this form: Hello FAT CAT!
But if he is the Fat Cat next door,
Whom I have often met many times before
(He comes to see me on the Street)
I greet him with a YO FAT CAT!
I've heard them call him Jesse the "Fat Cat" James-
But we've not got so far as names.
Before a Fat Cat will condescend
To treat you as his trusted friend,
Some little financial token of esteem
Is needed, like a dish of finders fee cream;
And you might now and then supply
Some OTC fee caviare, or Strassburg Commission Pie,
Some potted syndication fee grouse, or book runner salmon paste -
He's sure to have his personal taste.
(I know a Cat, who makes a habit
Of eating nothing else but brake up fee wabbit,
And when he's finished, licks his paws
So's not to waste the toxic asset fee sauce.)
A Fat Cat's expected to expect
These evidences of monetary respect.
And so in time you reach your aim,
And finally call him by his FAT CAT NAME.

So this is this, and that is that:
And there's how you AD-DRESS A FAT CAT.

Friday, May 15, 2009



(Give Peace a Chance, John Lennon)

Ev'rybody's tweetin' 'bout
Monetizationism, Social Graphism, 6 Degrees of Separationism, Crowd Sourcism, Yet Another Distractionism, Old Media Catyclism, New Media Exorcism
This-ism, that-ism, ism ism ism
All we are saying is give Twit a chance
All we are saying is give Twit a chance

Ev'rybody's tweetin' 'bout
Info Minister, Kinda Sinister, Digital Barrister and Info Canisters,
Tweet Bishops, Tweet Fishops, Tweet Rabbis, and Tweet Pop Eyes, Bye bye, Bye byes
All we are saying is give Twit a chance
All we are saying is give Twit a chance

(Let me tell you now)
Ev'rybody's tweetin' 'bout
Web-olution, Evolution, Data Masturbation, Crowd Flagellation, Social Media Regulation,
Conceptual Integration, network mediation, United Nations, congratulations
All we are saying is give Twit a chance
All we are saying is give Twit a chance

Ev'rybody's tweetin' 'bout
Evan Williams, Biz Stone, Scwarzenegger, Oprah Winfry,
Kawasaki, Calacanis, William Shatner, Ashton Kucher, Britany Spears
John Cleese, Lance Armstrong, John Lennon, John Lennon??!!!! Hare Krishna
Hare Hare Krishna
All we are saying is give Twit a chance
All we are saying is give Twit a chance
(Repeat 'til the tape runs out)


Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer the Geek Fat Cats
(Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were a notorious couple of geek Wall Street Fat Cats.
As structured finance clowns, quick-change artists, tight-rope walkers and financial acrobats
They had an extensive reputation. They made their real home in Stamford, Los Alamos and MIT
Wall Street was merely their centre of operation, for they were incurably given to rove.
They were very well known in Palm Beach, in Greenwich and in Mayfair -
they had really a little more reputation than a couple of Fat Cats can very well bear.

If the black litter box was found ajar
And the data room looked like a geek field of war,
If a memory chip or two came loose on the risk manager's roof,
Which presently ceases to be waterproof,
If the drawers were pulled out from the CEOs commode chest,
And you couldn't find one of your Saville Row vests,
Or after supper one of the investors
Suddenly missed his cherished red suspenders:
Then the bankers and traders would say: `It's that horrible geek Fat Cat!
It was Mungojerrie - or Rumpelteazer!' - And most of the time they left it at that.

Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had a very unusual gift of geek gab.
They were highly efficient financial burglars as well, and remarkably smart at a rehash-and-grab.
They made their home like typical geeks. They had no other preoccupation.
They were implausible fellows, and liked to engage a friendly risk control policeman in convoluted conversation.

When the other bankers assembled for closing dinners [foreclosing dinner?],
With their minds made up that their bonuses wouldn't get thinner
On trading point steak, fee potatoes and commission greens,
And the comp cook would appear from behind the scenes
And say in a voice that was broken with sorrow:
`I'm afraid you must wait and have bonus dinner tomorrow!
For the joint has gone from the oven - like that!'
Then the traders would say: `It's that horrible quant cat!
It was Mungojerrie - or Rumpelteazer!' - And most of the time they left it at that.

Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had a wonderful way of working together.
And some of the time you would say it was luck, and some of the time you would say it was exuberant market weather.
They would go through the bank like a fast buck hurricane, and no sober person could take this oath
Was it Mungojerrie - or Rumpelteazer? or could you have sworn that it mightn't be both?

And when you heard a NAV crash
Or up from the back office there came a loud smash
Or down from the board room came a loud ping
From an asset backed model which was said to be good as Ming -
Then the traders and bankers would say: `Now which was which cat?
It was Mungojerrie! AND Rumpelteazer!' - And there's nothing at all to be done about that!

Thursday, May 14, 2009


The following has been brought to our attention:

At first blush it looks like this is what happens when Filipinas decide to become cartoonists instead of domestic helpers.

Rest assured, BANZAI7 News Organization will investigate and report back...


The Song of the Jailables
(The Song of the Jellicles, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Practical Fat Cats

Jailable Fat Cats come out to-night
Jailable Fat Cats come one come all:
The Jailable Moon is shining bright -
Jailables come to the Predator's Ball.

Jailable Fat Cats are never black and white,
Jailable Fat Cat hearts are rather small;
Jailablecle Fat Cats know every con n slight,
And unpleasant to hear when they caterwaul in Capital the halls.
Jailable Fat Cats have decks with five aces,
Jailable Fat Cats have shifty black eyes;
They like to practice their Ponziesque airs and graces
And wait for the Jailable Moon to rise.

Jailable Fat Cats ethics are lowly,
Jailable Fat Cats bonus wallets are too big;
Jailable Fat Cats have a Ponzi mono-poly,
They know how to dance an analyst gavotte and a quarterly jig.
Until the Jailable Moon appears
They make their toilette on a fine French commode:
Jailable Fat Cats wash investors behind their ears,
Jailable Fat Cats hang their shareholders by their toes.

Jailable Fat Cats are opaque but not white and black,
Jailable Fat Cats like leverage of immoderate size;
Jailable Fat Cats jump you from the back,
Jailable Fat Cats make toxic asset surprises.
They're quiet enough in the pre-opening hours,
They're quiet enough in the late afternoon,
Reserving their terpsichorean powers
To dance by the light of the Jailable Moon.

Jailable Fat Cats aren't black and white,
Jailable Fat Cats (as I said) hearts are small;
If it happens to be a systemic fright
They will practice a bailout caper or two in the hall.
If it happens the market sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jailable Moon and the Predator's Ball.


Fat Cat Jamie of JP Morgan Introduces Himself
(Cat Morgan Introduces Himself, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

I once was a young Wall Street Pirate what sailed the 'igh seas -
But now I've rehired as CEO extra-ordin-aire:
And that's how you find me a-taking' my ease
And keepin' the revolving door open for rainmakers in fluent high finance-ese.

I'm partial to repackaged debt partridges, likewise to derivative grouse,
And I favour that rich Devonshire bonus cream in a bowl;
But I'm allus content with a bonus drink on Bernanke's 'ouse
And a bit o' rich FED funded fish when I done me patrol.

I ain't got much polish, me manners is gruff,
But I've got a good coat, and I keep meself smart;
And everyone says, and I guess that's enough:
`You can't but like Jamie of JP Morgan, 'e's got a suave 'art.'

I got knocked about on Paulsen's TARP Barbary Coast,
And me voice it ain't no such melliferous horgan;
But yet I can state, and I'm not one to boast,
That some of the gals is dead keen on old Jamie of JP Morgan.

So if you 'ave frisky business with risk free  flavors to savor
I'll give you this tip, and it's worth a lot more:
You'll save yourself time, and you'll spare yourself labour
If jist you make friends with the Magnetar cat in the C Suite of JP Morgan.




(Gus, the Theater Cat, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

Hank is the Cat at AIG's Back Door.
His name, as I ought to have told you before,
Is really Maurice. That's such a fuss
To pronounce, that we usually call him just Hank.
His coat's very shabby, he's thin as a rake,
And he suffers from a crotchety old palsy that makes his Fat paw shake.
Yet he was, in his youth, quite the smartest of Fat Cats -
But no longer a terror to AIG mice and to Goldman Sachs rats.
For he isn't the mountebank Fat Cat that he was in his prime;
Though his name was quite famous, he says, in its time.
And whenever he joins his friends at their club
(Which takes place at the back of a West Palm Beach pub)
He loves to regale them, if someone else pays,
With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest Palm Beach days.
For he once was a Wall Street Star of the highest degree -
He has acted with Henry Kissinger, he's acted with Chinese Premier Zhu Ron---gi.
And he likes to relate his success on Wall Street,
Where the analyst Gallery once gave him seven cat-calls.
But his grandest creation, as he loves to tell,
Was FirefroFWMD, the Fiend of the AIG Fell.

`I have played', so he says, `every possible part,
And I used to know seventy A.R.T. speeches by heart.
I'd extemporize quantitative-guff, I knew how to gag on Banker riff raff,
And I know how to let the quarterly cat out of the bag.
I knew how to cover my tracks and my tail;
With an hour of CNBC rehearsal, I never could fail.
I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of institutional hearts,
Whether I took the lead, or in character parts.
I have stood by that rattle snake Zharb;
When the Curfew was rung, then I swung on the bell.
In the proxy season I never fell flat
Because I once understudied Vander Starr the Fat Cat.
But my grandest creation, as history will tell,
Was FirefroFWMD, the Fiend of the AIG Fell.'

Then, if someone will give him a toothful of cheap Shanghai gin,
He will tell how he once played the part of the global insurance Erroll Flynn .
At a Shakespearean road show performance he once walked on pat,
When some Fat Cat investor suggested the need for a CEO Fat Cat.
He once played a victimized CEO Tiger - could do it again -
Which a zealous hunter named Spitzer pursued down a drain.
And he thinks that he still can, much better than most,
Produce blood-curdling CEO noises to scare the Casper the Bailout Ghost.
And he once crossed the market stage on the Reuter's high wire,
To rescue that fool Cassano before the whole house was on fire.
And he says: `Now, these yupster kittens, they do not get trained
As we did in the days when real Republicans reigned.
They never get drilled in a regular troupe,
And they think they are smart, just to jump through their derivative hoops.'
And he'll say, as he scratches himself with his manicured claws,
`Well, Wall Street Theatre's certainly not what it was.
These systemic time bombs are all very well,
But there's nothing to equal, from what I hear tell,
That moment of mystery
When I made history
As FirefroFWMD, the Fiend of the AIG Fell.'

Wednesday, May 13, 2009


The Old Grumpy Fat Cat
(The Old Gumbie Cat, Old Possums Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

I have a Grumpy Fat Cat in mind, his name is Connect-the-Dots;
His coat is of the shabby kind, with wide chalk stripes and bordeaux spots.
All day she sits in his worn chair or on the Federal Hall steps or at the Battery:
He sits and sits and sits and sits - and that's what makes a Grumpy Fat Cat!

But when the day's hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Grumpy Fat Cat's work is but hardly begun.
And when all the senior MD's are in bed and asleep,
He slips down the stairs to see the trading room geeks.
He is deeply concerned with the ways of the junior geek mice -
Their behaviour's too good and their ethics too nice;
So when he has got them lined up on the matting,
He teaches them front running, churning and insider tit for tatting.

I have a Grumpy Fat Cat in mind, his name is Connect-the-Dots;
His equal would be hard to find, he likes the warm and sunny bull market spots.
All day he sits beside the reuters screen or in the Wall Street sun:
He sits and sits and sits and sits - and that's what makes a Grumpy Fat Cat!

But when the trading day's hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Grumpy Cat's work is but hardly begun.
As he finds that the geek mice will not ever keep quiet,
He is sure it is due to their irregular high finance diet
And believing that nothing is done without trying,
He sets straight to work with them baking and frying, securitized dung and toxic asset surprises.
He makes them a synthetic tranched CDO cake of stale subprime dough and S&P sleaze,
And a beautiful fry of synthetic CDS bacon and toxic asset cheese.

I have a Grumpy Fat Cat in mind, his name is Connect-the Dots;
The curtain-cord he likes to wind, and tie it into hanging-nooses.
He sits upon the window-sill, or anything that's lucite smooth and flat:
He sits and sits and sits and sits - and that's what makes a grumpy Fat Cat!

But when the trading day's hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Grumpy Fat Cat's work is but hardly begun.
He thinks that the backroom cockroaches just need employment,
So he's formed, from that lot of disorderly louts,
A troop of well-disciplined Ponzi scheming boy-scouts,
With a purpose in life and a dire deed to do -
And he's even created a Banker Tattoo.

So for Old Grumpy Fat Cats let us now give three cheers -
On whom well-run toxic shlock houses depend, it appears.


(Bustopher Jones, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Banker Fat Cats

Boiler Room Jones is not skin and bones -
In fact, he's remarkably fat.
He doesn't haunt pubs - he has eight or nine country clubs,
For he's the quintessential crooked banker Fat Cat!
He's the Fat Cat we all greet as he walks down the Street!
In his fastidious old coat with the look of Rogers Peet
No hedge fund mousers have such well-cut trousers
Or such an impeccable back.
In the whole of lower Manhattan the smartest of names is
The name of this Brummell of crooked banker Fat Cats;
And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to
By Boiler Room Jones in white spats!

His visits are occasional to the CFA Continuing Educational
and it is against the rules
For any one cat to belong both to that
And the Chicago School.
For a similar reason, when the con game is in season
He is found, on CNBC, but not PBS;
But he's frequently seen on the game at Four Seasons
Which is famous for serving swinging dick bankers and wannabe wimps.
In the season of fowl he takes his Boss o/u shot guns out
To go hunting on the grounds of his stately North Westchester country house;
And just before noon's not a moment too soon
To drop in for a drink at the local club room.
If he looks full of gloom then he'll lunch at the Tombs
On cabbage, rice and jailhouse grouse.

So, much in this way, passes Boiler Room Jones' day -
At one white shoe club or another he's found.
It can cause no surprise that under our eyes
He has grown unmistakably round.
He's a 250-five pounder, or I am a bounder,
And he's putting on weight every day:
But he's so well preserved because he's observed
All his life a routine, so he'll say.
And (to put it in rhyme) `I shall last out my jailhouse time'
Is the word of this stoutest of crooked banker Fat Cats.
It must and it shall be Spring at Church and Wall
While Boiler Room Jones wears white spats!


(Old Deuteronomy, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Wall Street Fat cats

Dubious-Economy lived a long long time;
He's a Central Banking Fat Cat who has caused many bubbles in his prime.
He was famous in obtuse proverbs and famous in pseudo sophisticated fractional reserve rhymes
A long while before Ben Bernanke's accession.
Old Dubious-Economy buried us many times
And more - I am tempted to say, since ninety-nine;
And his numerous market fundamentalist progeny prosper and thrive
And the Wall Street village is proud of him in his decline.
At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy,
When he sits in the sun by Federal Hall,
The Oldest Inhabitant croaks: `Well, of all ...
Things ... Can it be ... really! ... No! ... Yes! ...
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My trader sight may be failing, but yet I confess
I believe it is Old Dubious-Economy!'

Old Dubious-Economy sits in the Street,
He sits by Wall Street on FED meeting day;
The private guards may bellow, the Sihk taxis they may beep,
But the hedgehogs and the bankers will all turn them away.
The cars and the trucks run over the curb,
And the Wall Street villagers put up a notice: NYSE CLOSED -
So that nothing untoward may chance to disturb
rest when he feels so disposed
Or when he's engaged in irrationally exuberant wizardry:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: `Well, of all ...
Things ... Can it be ... really! ... No! ... Yes! ...
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
I'm deaf of an ear now, but yet I can guess
That the cause of the trouble is old Dubious-Economy!'

Old Dubious-Economy dreams on the NYSE floor
Of the subprime fox and Buffets FWMD Horn for his afternoon sleep;
And when the busted bankers say: `There's just time for one bubble more,'
then the other Fat Cats from their trading parlours will peep
And say: `Now then, out you go, by the back door,
For Old Dubious-Economy mustn't be woken -
I'll have the FED police if there's any uproar' -
And out they all shuffle, without a dumb word unspoken.
The digestive repose of that feline's flacid free market gastronomy
Must never be broken, whatever befall:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: `Well of all ...
Things ... Can it be ... really! ... Yes! ... No! ...
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My legs may be tottery, I must go slow
And be careful of Old Alan (the Maestro) 'Dubious-Economy!'

MacMadoff: The Mystery Fat Cat

MacMadoff: The Mystery Fat Cat
(Macavity: The Mystery Cat, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Wall Street Fat Cats

MacMadoff a mystery Fat Cat: he's called the hidden Ponzi Paw -
For he's the master criminal who can defy economic law.
He's the bafflement of the SEC's canards, the enforcement squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime - MacMadoff's never there!

MacMadoff, MacMadoff, there's no one like MacMadoff,
He's broken every law of fraud, he breaks the market laws of gravity.
His ponziesque powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime - MacMadoff's not there!
You may seek him down on the Lipstick's 17th floor, you may look up in his Park Avenue lair -
But I tell you once and once again, MacMadoff's not there!

McMadoff's a nimble Fat Cat, but he's not even tall or thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his shifty eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his sliver hair is nicely bouffant;
His schpiel is feisty as heck, each of his sophisticated investors are dumber than a Riviera crossant.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a Vegas rattle snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.

MacMadoff, MacMadoff, there's no one like MacMadoff,
For he's a Wall Street fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him on a putting green, you may see him in a Hotel du Cap lounge chair
But when a financial crime's discovered, then MacMadoff's not there!

He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of those SEC canards.
And when the rich and famous are looted, or the trust account is rifled,
Or when the milk money is missing, or another Ponzi's been stifled,
Or the charity bank is broken, and retirement's beyond repair -
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! MacMadoff's not there!

And when the SEC Branch Chief finds a monthly statement gone astray,
Or the Palm Beach widows lose it all by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair -
But it's useless to investigate - McMadoff's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the FBI men say:
`It must have been MacMadoff!' - but he's thousands of miles away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking caviar off his well manicured thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long-division sums.

MacMadoff, MacMadoff, there's no Fat Cat like MacMadoff,
There never was a Fat Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place - MACMADOFF WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Fat Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Ezra Merkin, I might mention Walter Noel)
Are nothing more than agents for the Fat Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: Bernie MacMadoff, the Napoleon of Financial Crime!


williambanzai7 — I used to think “you can’t make this stuff up.” but after reading “MacMadoff” I’m rethinking that. Beautiful.

— Posted by moonwell23