THE WALL STREET MADAM FINANCIAL SEXICON

THE WALL STREET MADAM SEXICON
(Jargon used in the financial/sexual industrial complex)
Collected by WilliamBanzai7


ALL NIGHT MAN: One who goes to the printers often.
ALT A: An angle of approach.
ANALYST: John who talks too much.
ANALYST CALL: Phone sex
ARB: One who exploits price differentials for services at different venues.
ARRANGEMENT FEE: Madam's cut.
ASSET CLASS: Quality of lady.
ATM: A regular client

BAILOUT: Session on credit.
BALLOON: Condom
BANK LETTER: A client reference
BARBARIAN: Client employed in Private equity industry.
BARBARIAN AT THE GATE: Private equity CEO soliciting services.
BARE TRADER: One who does not use a condom.
BASH AND DASH: A quickie
BIG BOARD: Internet site frequented by Johns.
BIG UGLIES: Bankers over 50
BILLABLE HOURS: Client time
BLACK BOX: Proprietary tricks of the trade.
BOILER-ROOM: Internet call girl operation.
BUCKET SHOP: Asian massage parlor.
BULL RUN: Doing it with Viagra
BEAR RUN: Doing it without Viagra
FRENCH BOUDOIR: John Thain's office.
BOUTIQUE SERVICE: Specialized services
BUTTERFLY SPREADER: Client who skips around

CABBAGE STAINS & MORE LLP: Prominent Wall Street law firm advocating flat fee billing.
CALL DATE: An appointment.
CAP AND COLLAR: S&M session
CAR SERVICE: Session in a limousine.
CDS: Creamy delicious sex
CHURN: Foreplay
CLOSING BELL: Close of session
COMMODE: In suite toilet.
COMPOUNDING: Multiple partners in one session
CROWN JEWELS: Genitalia

DAY TRADER: Client who only books in the afternoons.
DEAD BEAT: Banker from a bailed out firm.
DEAD CAT BOUNCE: Getting it up at the end of a session.
DEPRECIATING ASSET: Effects of aging
DERIVATIVE TRADING: Exchanging clients.
DOWN-TICK: Unaroused

EXIT STRATEGY: Client specified happy ending
EXOTIC OPTION: Special services.

FAT TAIL: Big booty
FIBONACCI NUMBERS: Menstrual cycle
FIDUCIARY DUTY: Code of silence (imagined just like in Boardrooms)
FIRM COMMITMENT UNDERWRITING: Firm paying the bill.
FLIP OVER: Both sides
FORBES RICH LIST: Maddam's field guide


FOREX DEALER: Establishment making a market in foreign service providers.

GOLDEN PARACHUTE: Designer condom
GOING DOWNTOWN: Off to a session.
GROSS SPREAD: Ungroomed

HEDGING: Arranging two call dates on the same day.

GOING LONG: Overnight
GOING SHORT: short session
GOING TO THE PRINTERS: An all night session.
GOLDEN HANDCUFFS: Popular accessory
GREEN MAIL: Banker blackmail

HOSTILE BID: Competing bid for an appointment.

INFLATED ASSETS: Silicon enhancement.

JOHN: Client; also a well known former CEO of a well known investment bank.

LEVEL 1, LEVEL 2, LEVEL 3: Service strata
LOCK UP AGREEMENT: Exclusive use of a girl.
LUNCH OUT: Lunch session

MILLE HIGH CLUB: Girls who have done tricks on French built corporate aircraft.

NAKED SHORT: Elliot Spitzer

OFF BALANCE SHEET TRANSACTION: Creative financing
OFFSHORE TRANSACTION: Out of country session (London, Frankfurt or Hong Kong where services are legal)
ONE STOP SHOP: Full service provider as in universal bank.
OPENING BELL: Start of session
OUTLIER or BLACK SWAN EVENT: Deviant sexual behaviour
OUT OF THE BOX: Sex without penetration.

PIMP: Wall Street headhunter
POISON PILL: Counterfeit Viagra
PONZI SCHEME: Using client money to pay for services.
PRIME RATE: Highest fee payable.
PRO BONO: Without charge
OTC: Over the counter Viagra
PINK SHEETS: Back section of Village Voice.

RANDOM WALK: A trick without a reference or bank letter
RATING: Bust size (DD, DDD etc.)
RATING AGENCY: Call girl operation.
RISK FACTORS: Everyone has his or her own.
ROAD SHOW: Taking the girls out on the town.

SECURITIZATION: issuing false credit card invoices for sexual services.
SMITH BARNEY: Client that likes "doing it the old fashioned way."
SPREAD: Difference between bid and asked prices.
STANDARD DEVIATION: Normal sexual behaviour.
STREET NAME: Alias identity
THE STREET: 8th Avenue; address of Cabbage Stains & More LLP HQ
SUB-PRIME DEALER: Street Pimp

TIME SHEETS: Daily tally of Billable hours
2/20: Performance based fee arrangement.
TOP UP: Extra time
TRADING BOOK: Madam's list of clients.
TRADING ROOM: S&M lair
TRIPLE WITCHING: Three girls at once

UNDERWRITER: He who foots the bill
UP-SELL: Renegotiating price mid transaction.
UPTICK: Aroused
USEFUL LIFE: 30 minus age of call girl.

WATER SPORTS: Service provided on client's yacht.
WHITE NIGHT: Client who becomes spouse or boyfriend.

ZOMBIE: Banker from bankrupted firm.

SUBPRIME STRUWWELPETER

WLLIAMBANZAI7'S SUBPRIME STRUWWELPETER
(Shock-headed Peter, Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai7

Just look at him! there he stands,
With his nasty securitised hair and over leveraged hands.
See! his greedy bonus nails are never cut;
They are grimed as black as dirty subprime Wall Street soot;
And the sloven deadbeat, I declare,
Never once has combed his financial hair;
Anything to me is sweeter
Than to see Shock-headed Subprime Peter.

Struwwelpeter is an old German book of illustrated children's tales that are scary, somewhat twisted and Tim Burtonesque. Each story has an implied moral. The English version can be viewed here:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/2381012/Struwwelpeter-Merry-Stories-and-Funny-Pictures-by-Hoffmann-Heinrich-18091894

It occurred to me that some of the Struwwelpeter tales adapt well to the "Great Subprime Meltdown", hence "WilliamBanzai7's Subprime Struwwelpeter.

THE STORY OF FIDGETY GEORGE
(The Story of Fidgety Phillip, Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai7's Subprime Struwwelpeter

Let me see if Georgie can
Be a an informed and intelligent gentleman;
Let me see if he is able
To sit still for once at an intellectual table":
Thus Papa Bush bade Georgie behave;
And Mamma Bush looked very grave.
But fidgety George,
He won't sit still;
He wriggles,
And giggles,
And then, I declare,
Swings backwards and forwards,
And tilts up his State Dining Room chair,
Just like a dumb GOP cowboy on a rocking horse--
"Georgie! I am getting cross!"
See the naughty, restless child
Growing still more rude and wild,
Till his Neo-conman chair falls over quite.
Georgie screams with all his might,
Catches at the cloth, but then
That makes matters worse again.
Down upon the ground they fall,
Subprime glasses, leveraged plates, derivative knives, silver bonus forks, and all.
How Mamma Bush did fret and frown,
When she saw them all go tumbling down!
And Papa Bush made such a face!
Georgie is a sad disgrace.
Where is Georgie, where is he?
Fairly covered up you see!
Cloth and all are lying on him;
He has pulled down all upon him.
What a terrible to-do!
American dishes, glasses, snapt in two!
Here a knife, and there a fork!
Georgie, this is cruel work.

THE DREADFUL STORY OF WALL STREET HARRIET AND THE DERIVATIVE MATCHES
(The Dreadful Story of Harriet and the Matches, Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai's Subprime Struwwelpeter

It almost makes me cry to tell
What foolish Wall Street Harriet befell.
Mamma Roubini and Nurse Buffet went out one day
And left her all alone at play.
Now, on the table close at hand,
A box of derivative matches chanced to stand;
And kind Mamma and Nurse had told her,
That, if she played with them, they would scold her.
But Wall Street Harriet said: "Oh, what a pity!
For, when they burn, it is so pretty;
They crackle so, and spit, and flame:
Mamma, too, often does the same."
The pussy-cat pundits heard this,
And they began to hiss,
And stretch their claws,
And raise their paws;
"Me-ow," they said, "me-ow, me-ow,
You'll burn to death, if you do so."
But Wall Street Harriet would not take advice:
She lit a box of FWMD matches, it was so nice!
It crackled so, it burned so clear--
Exactly like the picture here.
She jumped for joy and ran about
And was too pleased to put it out.
The Pussy-cats and saw this
And said: "Oh, naughty, naughty Miss!"
And stretched their claws,
And raised their paws:
"'Tis very, very wrong, you know,
Me-ow, me-o, me-ow, me-o,
You will be burnt, if you do so."
And see! oh, what a dreadful thing!
The fire has caught her derivative apron-string;
Her over leveraged apron burns, her securitized arms, her long bonus hair--
She burns all over everywhere.
Then how the pussy-cats did mew--
What else, poor pussies, could they do?
They screamed for help, 'twas all in vain!
So then they said: "We'll scream again;
Make haste, make haste, me-ow, me-ow,
She'll burn to death; we told her so."
So she was burnt, with all her high priced clothes,
And arms, and hands, and eyes, and nose;
Till she had nothing more to lose
Except her little scarlet bailout shoes;
And nothing else but these was found
Among her ashes on the ground.
And when the good cats sat beside
The smoking market ashes, how they cried!

THE STORY OF FLYING HANK PAULSEN
(The Story of Flying Robert, Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai7's Subprime Struwwelpeter

When the bear market rain comes tumbling down
In the country clubs or on Wall Street town,
All good little girls and boys
Stay at home and mind their toys.
But Hank Paulsen thought, "No, when it pours,
It is better out of doors."
Rain it did, and in a minute
Hank was in it.
Here you see him, silly fellow,
Underneath his red TARP umbrella.
What a bailout wind! oh! how it whistles
Through the taxpayer trees, Federal flowers and deficit thistles!
It has caught his red TARP umbrella:
Now look at him, silly fellow--
Up he flies
In the Trillion Dollar Bailout skies.
No one heard his screams and cries;
Through the subprime clouds the rude wind bore him,
And his Goldman hat flew on before him.
Soon they got to such a height,
They were nearly out of sight.
And the hat went up so high,
That it nearly touched the sovereign bankrupt sky.
No one ever yet could tell
Where they stopped, or where they fell:

CRUEL BERNIE
(Cruel Frederick, from Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai7

Here is cruel Bernie, see!
A horrid wicked PONZI SCHEMER was he;
He caught the rich and wealthy flies, poor little things,
And then tore off their golden wings,
He killed the Palm Beach birds, and broke the Hollywood celebrity chairs,
And threw those wealthy European kittens into his PONZI LAIR;
And oh! far worse than all beside,
He pulled the wool over the SEC's eyes.
The PONZI trough was not full, and faithful Palm Beach dog Tray
Came out to redeem his nestegg bone one sultry day;
He wagged his tail, and wet his lip,
When cruel Bernie snatched up a lockdown whip,
And whipped poor Tray till he was sore,
And kicked and whipped him more and more:
At this, good Tray grew very red,
And growled, and bit him till he bled;
Then you should only have been by,
To see how Bernie did scream and cry!
So Bernie had to go to his Park Avenue Penthouse jail bed:
His leg was very sore and red!
The Jailhouse Doctor came, and shook his head,
And made a very great to-do,
And gave him nasty physic too.
But good dog Tray is happy now;
He has no time to say "Bow-wow!"
He seats himself in Federal Court each day
And laughs to see the nice things happening there:
The payback soup he swallows, sup by sup--
And eats the revenge pies and puddings up.

THE STORY OF DICK "HEAD IN THE AIR" FULD
(Johnny Head in Air, From Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai7

As he trudged along like an arrogant Wall Street fool,
It was always Dickie Fuld's golden rule
To be looking at the pie in the market sky
Even as the subprime meltdown clouds floated by;
But what calamity just before him and Lehman lay,
Dickie never thought about;
So that every one cried out
"Look at little Dickie Fuld there,
Little Dickie Head-In-Air!"
Running just in Dickie's way
Came a big market Bear one day;
Dickies's eyes were still astray
Up on high,
In the irrationally inflated subprime sky;
And he never heard them cry
"Dickie, mind, the Bear is nigh!"
Bump!
Dump!
Down they fell, with such a thump,
Bear and Dickie in a lump!
Once, with head as high as ever,
Dickie walked beside the subprime river.
Dickie watched the derivative traders trying
Which was cleverest at riskless flying.
Oh! what fun!
Dickie watched the bright round Wall Street sun
Going in and coming out;
This was all he thought about.
So he strode on, only think!
To the subprime river's very red brink,
Where the risk of bankruptcy was high and steep,
And the MTM water very deep;
And the Lehman fishes, in a row,
Stared to see him coming so.
One step more! oh! sad to tell!
Headlong in poor Dickie Fuld fell.
And the Lehman fishes, in dismay,
Wagged their tails and swam away.
There lay Dickie on his face,
With his nice red writing-case.

The Story of the Banker that went out Shooting Investor Hares
(From Struwwelpeter)
WilliamBanzai7's Subprime Struwwelpeter

This is the Wall Street Banker that shoots investor hares;
This is the green scamster coat he always wears:
With derivatives-bag, securitisation-horn, and Ponzi scheme gun
He's going out to have some fun.
He finds it hard, without a pair
Of subprime spectacles, to shoot the hares.
The hare sits snug in leaves and grass,
And laughs to see the Banker pass.
Now, as the sun grew very hot,
And he a heavy Ponzi gun had got,
He lay down underneath a bailout tree
And went to sleep, as you may see.
And, while he slept like any top,
The little investor hare came, hop, hop, hop,
Took Ponzi gun and subprime spectacles, and then
On her hind legs went off again.
The Banker wakes and sees her place
The spectacles upon her face;
And now she's trying all she can
To shoot the sleepy, green-coat man.
He cries and screams and runs away;
The hare runs after him all day
And hears him call out everywhere:
"Help! Fire! Help! The Hare! The Hare!"
At last he stumbled at the bonusless bailout well,
Head over ears, and in he fell.

The Story of Ackerman the Deutsche Banker
Who Would not Have his Bailout Soup
(Struwwelpeter, Augustus The Boy Who Would Not Eat His Soup)
WiliamBanzai7

Ackerman was a chubby rich banker;
Fat bonuses Ackerman always had,
And everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty, healthy banker lad.
Of late he never ate his bailout food as he was told,
And always let his bailout soup get cold.
But one day, one cold winter's day,
He screamed out "Take this bailout soup away!
O take the nasty bailout soup away!
My bonus food will come back one day."
Next day, now look, the picture shows
How lank and lean Ackerman grows!
Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,
The naughty fellow cries out still
"Not any bailout soup for me, I say:
O take the nasty bailout soup away!
I _won't_ have any bailout soup today."
The third day comes: Oh what a sin!
To make himself so pale and thin.
Yet, when the bailout soup is put on table,
He screams, as loud as he is able,
"Not any bailout soup for me, I say:
My bonus food will come back one day!
I WON'T have any bailout soup today."
Look at him, now the fourth day's come!
He scarcely weighs a sugar-plum;
He's like a little bit of Italian thread,
And, on the fifth day, his dear Deutsche Bank was walking dead!

THE STORY OF A NAUGHTY BAILOUT BUM
(Struwwelpeter, Little Suck A Thumb)
WilliamBanzai7's Subprime Struwwelpeter

One day Obama said "Conrad dear,
I must go out and leave you here.
But mind now, Conrad, what I say,
Don't suck your bailout bonus thumb while I'm away.
The great tailor Uncle Sam always comes
To bad bailout boys who suck their bonus thumbs;
And ere they dream what he's about,
He takes his great bonus taxing scissors out,
And cuts their bonus thumbs clean off--and then,
You know, they never grow again."
Obama had scarcely turned his back,
The thumb was in, Alack! Alack!
The door flew open, in he ran,
The great, long, red-legged scissor bearing Uncle Sam.
Oh! you bailout deadbeats, see! Uncle Sam the taxing tailor's come
And caught out little Banker Bailout Bum.
Snip! Snap! Snip! the bailout bonus scissors go;
And Conrad cries out "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
Snip! Snap! Snip! They go so fast,
That both his bonus thumbs are off at last.
Obama comes home: there Conrad stands,
And looks quite sad, and shows his hands;
"Ah!" said Obama, "I said he'd come
To naughty little Bailout Bonus Bum."

WALL STREET RED INK BAILOUT BOYS
(Heinrich Hoffman's Struwwelpeter, Inky Boys)
WilliamBanzai7

The Story of the Red Ink Bailout Boys
As he had often done before,
The newly elected President
One nice fine day went out
To see his constituents, and walk about;
Then Johnny Thain, little noisy banker wag,
Ran out and laughed, and waved his big red bonus flag;
And Vikram Pandit came in jacket trim,
And brought his French jet fleet and baseball stadium sponsorship with him;
And Ken Lewis, too, snatched up his toys
And joined the other naughty Wall Street boys.
So, one and all set up a roar,
And laughed and looted more and more,
And kept on singing,--only think!--
"Oh, Obama, we pay ourselves huge bonuses with taxpayer red ink!"
Now tall Secretary Geithner lived close by--
So tall, he almost touched the Wall Street sky;
He had a mighty regulatory inkstand, too,
In which a great Federal goose-feather grew;
He called out in an angry tone
"Boys, you better leave your Wall Street bonus toys home!
For, if Obama tries with all his might,
He he will put your loss riddled banks a bonus black hole overnite."
But, ah! they did not mind a bit
What great Geithner said of it;
But went on laughing, as before,
And hooting about their bonus hoard.
Then great Geithner foams with rage--
Look at him on this very page!
He seizes Thain, seizes Ken,
Takes Pandit by his little head;
And they may scream and kick and call,
Into the TARP black ink he dips them all;
Into the inkstand, one, two, three,
Till they are now bonus capped as capped can be.

UNITED STATES HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

FEBRUARY 6, 2009

SUBCOMMITTEE ON FINANCIAL SERVICES ACCEPTS
SURPRISE TESTIMONY BY BERNIE MADOFF

The following are excerpts from today's closed door hearing.

CHAIRMAN JANITORSKI: Ladies and Gentleman, following the commendable testimony of Mr. Marco Polo and the useless drivel obtained from stooges from the SEC and FINRA, the subcommittee has succeeded in arranging special supplemental testimony by Bernard C. Madoff. We are grateful to Mr. Madoff for volunteering to provide his testimony. We understand that there are a plethora of investigations targeting Mr.
Madoff and his asset management and brokerage businesses. Mr. Madoff has indicated that he has nothing to hide and is quite willing to provide his candid observations concerning the United States regulatory apparatus as it pertains to "Global Ponzinomics". I would like to thank the United States Marshall Service for its cooperation in making it possible for Mr. Madoff to attend the Forum. That is a custom designed Cartier bailout bracelet Bernie is wearing. It is designed to explode if he gets within 50 yards of Mr. Marco Polo. At this time I would also like to thank Citigroup for providing a bad jet to bring Mr. Madoff to the Capital on such short notice. Without further delay, I turn the floor over over to Mr. Madoff.

OPENING REMARKS OF MR. MADOFF: Thank you Mr. Chairman. First, I would like to offer Kudos to Mr. Markopolos. He seems to have been the singular individual who was able to divine the complexity and simplicity of Global Ponzinomics. I have read Mr. Markopolos' submissions to the subcommittee keenly. He certainly knows his greek alphabet. Although I agree with many of his conclusions there are a number of clarifications I would like to make at this time. Mr. Markopolos, I tip my hat to you. Further let me assure you that those who are intent on causing grave bodily harm to me, have no interest in injuring you, that is unless you have some special revelations to make about the business models currently employed by the Columbian drug cartels and Russian Mafia.

1. I am not a common fraudster or standard deviant. I am a Wall Street businessman. I make a living the same old fashioned way the rest of my brethren do on the "Street". We all have our own strategies for achieving a fair return for ourselves and sometimes our clients. The common link is the principles of ponzinomics first codified and applied by Charles Ponzi some 100 years ago. In the not too distant future I will be completely exonerated just like Mr. Blagojevich. Ponzinomics is the apparent backbone of global capitalism "Wall Street style". You show me a Wall Street innovation, I'll show you a Ponzi axiom. There is a little bit of Ponzi innovation in all of us. It's in our nature.

2. The Madoff model is essentially the same riskless ponzinomial expansion applied by Wall Street's securitization and derivatives industry. Opacity and incomprehensibility are key. Moreover, my black box contains the same spaghetti and meatballs as the many black boxes employed in the rest of the hedge fund industry with one key difference, I dont pay commissions to prime brokerages.

3. My sons are total canards. Trust me, if I had let them in on the Madoff strategy, we would have been just another brokerage and investment firm struggling to make a dishonest dime.

4. I originally thought Megan Cheung was the television newswoman Connie Chung. Imagine my disappointment when she did not show up for my interview in person. When I later learned that Ms. Cheung was a Branch Chief at the SEC NY Regional Office, I decided to add some excitement to my life. I prepared a detailed 36 page confession (Exhibit A) and delivered to Ms. Cheung clandestinely, inside an order of Moosho Pork from from China Fun, which is right down the block from my Park Avenue Apartment. I thought Ms. Cheung would be a clever adversary. However, her response was disappointing to say the least. She sent a clandestine return message to me, also inside a delivery of China Fun Moosho Pork. There were no fingerprint's on the carton, at least as far as I could tell. The message was short and I quote it here for the Subcommittee.

Dear Mr. Madoff,

Thank you for participating in the SEC's TIPs program. Your TIP will be examined in due course by the staff. If the staff determines that your TIP has merit, we will contact you in due course. However, you should be aware that the SEC is primarily busy pursuing Martha Stewart and other well known celebrities. If you do not hear from us. it is not because we do not care.

Ethically and diligently yours,

Megan Cheung, Esq.
Branch Chief

As the subcommittee can imagine I found this disappointing to say the least. Oh well, you know what they say in Chinatown, "If the Mooshoo fits, wear it."

5. There is no such thing as a "sophisticated investor". My dog "Spreadsheets" (as in he ate my spread sheets) is more sophisticated and market savy than the hundreds of European bottom feeders, golf course day traders, pension funds, celebrities and mobsters and Wall Street banksters who invested in the Madoff funds.

6. Much has been said about my luxurious Park Avenue jail cell. All of it is true.

7. Elliot Spitzer is not as smart as you think.

8. I would like to extend a warm personal invitation to Dick Fuld, Jimmy Cayne, Sandy Weil, Chuck Prince, Stan O'Neal, John Thain, Ken Screwless Lewis and any other Wall Street kleptocrat, to join me for a regular Thursday night poker game.

9. There is one other party that seems to have bested me. The President of Rally Motors in Roslyn NY. He is a worthy nominee for consideration as Chief of Enforcement at the SEC.

10. Mr. Markopolos, in honor of your magnificent but futile efforts with the SEC, I have arranged for custom made Cartier platnum bailout whistle with your name engraved in zirconium.

HEARING RECESS: Members powder session....

THE SEC
(the Adam's Family)
WilliamBanzai7

They're sleepy and they're stupid,
Delirious and maybe even crooked,
They're all together shaky,
Their called the SEC.

Their office is a brain dead mausoleum
Where people come to see 'em
They really are a scream
Their called the SEC.

(Naive)
(Incompetent)
(Useless)

So get your undercover shawl on
And a whistle you can blow on
We're gonna pay a call on
The United States SEC.

RIDDLE:

Q: WHAT DO YOU CALL A MONKEY SITTING IN A TREE WITH A LAPTOP?

A: A BRANCH CHIEF

PONZI WIZARD

PONZI CALL WIZARD
(Pinball Wizard, the Who)
WilliamBanzai7

Ever since I was a young boy
I've played the Ponzi game
From Wall Street down to Palm Beach
Those suckers are all the same
But I ain't seen nothing like him
In any financial services mega mall
That soft spoken Park Avenue yid
Sure makes a mean PONZI CALL

He stands straight like a mensch
Becomes part of the asset management machine
Sucking all the country club believers
Always playing a devious scheme
He cons European banking institutions
Their diligence brains are small
That low down rotten mamzer Madoff
Sure makes a mean PONZI CALL

He's a PONZI CALLIN wizard
There's got to be a twist
A PONZI CALLIN wizard
He's got such a waiting list

How do you think he does it?
(I don't know)
What makes him so good?

He ain't got no distractions
Can't hear those opening buzzers and bells
Don't see SEC red lights a flashin'
Plays by sense of yutz smell
Always gets them to prepay
Never wilts at all
That low down Park Avenue gonif Madoff
Sure makes a mean PONZI CALL

I thought I was
The PONZI Scamin king
But I just handed
My PONZI crown to him

Even on my boiler room floor
He can beat my best
His shnook disciples follow him in
And he just does the rest
He's got a crazy trader shpiel
Never seen him stall
That low down scamin gonif Madoff
Sure makes a mean PONZI CALL

Henry Kravis reads today's Wall Street Journal

THE EMPEROR OF WALL STREET HAS NO CLOTHES
(The Emperor has No Clothes-Hans Christian Anderson)
WilliamBanzai7

Just a few years ago, there was a Wall Street CEO, who was so excessively fond of stacking new lines of business, that he spent all his shareholder's money on building a financial supermarket otherwise known a "universal bank". He did not trouble himself in the least about his shareholders; nor did he care about his other stakeholders; clients, customers, creditors, bondholders and the rest of the public, except for the opportunities they afforded him for raking in exorbitant fees, paying obscene compensation to himself and his soldiers and displaying his fancy new French Jet and haughty collection of French antiques. To support this bank juggernaut he cloaked himself in new and evermore sophisticated financial schemes for each passing hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, “he is sitting in council,” it was always said of him, “The 'Emperor CEO' is sitting in his splendidly diversified wardrobe."

Time passed merrily in the city which housed his Headquarters; strangers arrived every day at his commodious office suite. One day, two rogues, calling themselves quantitative engineers made their appearance. They gave out that they knew how to structure exotic new securities offering magnificent risk free returns, the profits from which should have the wonderful property of remaining invisible to everyone who was unfit for the office he held, or who was extraordinarily simple in character.

“These must, indeed, be splendid securities!” thought the Emperor. “Had I such structured products to hawk, I might at once find out what bankers in my realms are unfit for their office, and also be able to pull the wool over the eyes of both the wise and the foolish! These structured securities must be spun for me immediately.” And he caused large sums of capital to be given to both the "Quants" in order that they might begin their work directly.

So the two Quants set up shop, and affected to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the finest AAA mortgages to pool and the purest streams of income to repackage; after running out of both in short order; they substituted the AAA mortgages with toxic sub-prime mortgages they managed to scrounge up from a broker named Frankie the Flipper and continued their pretended work at the printers until late at night.

“I should like to know how the Quants are getting on,” said the Banker CEO to himself, after some little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the manufacture. To be sure, he thought he had nothing to risk in his own person; but yet, he would prefer sending somebody else, to bring him intelligence about the Quants and their work, before he troubled himself in the affair. All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful property the structured products were to possess; and all were anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be.

“I will send my faithful old Chief Risk Management Officer to the Quants,” said the Emperor at last, after some deliberation, “he will be best able to see how the structured finance business looks; for he is a man of sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than he is.”

So the faithful old Chief Risk Management Officer went onto the floor, where the Quants were working with all their might, at their securitisation models. “What can be the meaning of this?” thought the old man, opening his eyes very wide. “I cannot discover the least bit of financial common sense in these spread sheets” However, he did not express his thoughts aloud.

The Quants requested him very courteously to be so good as to come nearer their computer screens; and then asked him whether the models pleased him, and whether the numbers were not very beautiful; at the same time pointing to tranches and tranches of securitised toxic sub-prime mortgages. The poor Chief Risk Management Officer looked and looked, he could not discover anything of value in the spread sheets for the structured products designed by the Quants for a very good reason, viz: there was nothing there. “What!” thought he again. “Is it possible that I am a simpleton? I have never thought so myself; and no one must know it now if I am so. Can it be, that I am unfit for my office? No, that must not be said either. I will never confess that I could not see the stuff.”

“Well, Mr Risk Manager!” said one of the Quants, still pretending to work. “You do not say whether the stuff pleases you."

“Oh, it is excellent!” replied the Chief Risk Management officer, looking at the spreadsheets through his spectacles. “These risk models, and the profits yes, I will tell the Emperor CEO without delay, how very beautiful I think them.”

“We shall be much obliged to you,” said the Quants, and then they named the different tranches and described the risk/return profile of the pretended stuff. The Chief Risk Management Officer listened attentively to their words, in order that he might repeat them to the Emperor CEO; and then the Quants asked for more working capital, saying that it was necessary to complete what they had begun. However, they put all that was given them into their bloated bonus knapsacks; and continued to work with as much apparent diligence as before at their structured finance models.

The Emperor CEO now sent a emissary from the Rating Agency of his court to see how the men were getting on, and to ascertain whether the structured products would soon be ready. It was just the same with this gentleman as with the minister; he surveyed the spread sheets on all sides, but could see nothing at all but financial schlock.

“Does not the stuff appear as beautiful to you, as it did to our Chief Risk Management Officer?” asked the Quants of the emissary from the Rating Agency; at the same time making the same gestures as before, and talking of the diversification hedges and safe returns which were not there, all as they signed the lucrative Rating Agency Contract of Engagement.

“I certainly am not stupid!” thought the emissary. “It must be, that I am not fit for my good, but very profitable office! That is very odd; however, no one shall know anything about it.” And accordingly he praised the safe returns he could not see, and declared that he was delighted with both the risk model and profits. “Indeed, please your Imperial Majesty,” said he to the Emperor CEO when he returned, “the structured products which the Quants are spinning are extraordinarily magnificent.”

The whole city was talking of the splendid structured product business which the Emperor CEO had ordered to be woven at the expense of his shareholders.

And now the Emperor CEO himself wished to see the costly manufacture. Accompanied by a select number of officers of the bank, among whom were the two honest men who had already admired the spread sheets, he went to the crafty Quants, who, as soon as they were aware of the Emperor CEO's approach, went on working more diligently than ever; although they still had not designed a single asset with intrinsic value.

“Is not the work absolutely magnificent?” said the officer and emissary, already mentioned. “If your Majesty will only be pleased to look at it! What a splendid risk model! What glorious returns” and at the same time they pointed to the toxic spread sheets; for they imagined that everyone else could see this exquisite piece of quantitative wizardry.

“How is this?” said the Emperor to himself. “I can see nothing! This is indeed a terrible affair! Am I a simpleton, or am I unfit to be an Emperor CEO? That would be the worst thing that could happen–Oh! the risk model is charming,” said he, aloud. “It has my complete approbation.” And he smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the toxic sub-prime spreadsheets; for on no account would he say that he could not see what two of the officers of his court had praised so much. All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to discover something on the screens but they could see no more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed,

“Oh, how beautiful!” and advised his majesty the Emperor CEO to have a new sub-prime CDO suit made from the profits generated by these splendid toxic sub-prime assets, for the approaching Bailout Procession. “Magnificent! Charming! Excellent!” resounded on all sides; and everyone was uncommonly gay. The Emperor CEO shared in the general satisfaction; and along with a massive Multi Million Dollar bonus or two, presented the Quants with the riband of an order of Managing Directors, to be worn in their Ferragamo button-holes, and the title of “Gentlemen Investment Bankers.”

The Quants sat up the whole of the night before the day on which the magnificent Bailout Procession was to take place, and had sixteen mainframes running so that everyone might see how anxious they were to fabricate the Emperor CEOs new CDO suit. They pretended to roll a positive P&L off the toxic sub-prime spreadsheets; blew hot air with their pitch books and threaded mathematical needles without any thread in them. “See!” cried they, at last. “The Emperor CEO's new structured clothes are ready!”

And now the Emperor CEO, with all the grandees of his court, came to the Quants; and the rogues raised their arms, as if in the act of holding something up, saying, “Here are your Majesty’s Clothes! Here is the Level III scarf! Here is the sub-prime mantle! The whole suit is as light as an opaque toxic sub-prime cobweb; one might fancy one has nothing at all on, when dressed in it; that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.”

“Yes indeed!” said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.

“If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to take off your bespoke Saville row clothes, we will fit on the new sub-prime CDO suit, in front of the financial looking glass.”

The Emperor CEO was accordingly undressed, and the Quant rogues pretended to array him in his new sub-prime CDO suit; the Emperor CEO turning round, from side to side, before the financial looking glass.

“How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!” everyone cried out. “What a model! What risk free returns! These are indeed royal robes!”

“The bailout canopy which is to be borne over your Majesty, in the procession, is waiting,” announced Hank Paulsen, the chief master of the ceremonies.

“I am quite ready,” answered the Emperor CEO. “Do my new asset backed clothes fit well?” asked he, turning himself round again before the financial looking glass, in order that he might appear to be examining his handsome sub-prime CDO suit.

The lords of the Finance department, who were to carry his Majesty’s bailout train felt about on the ground, as if they were lifting up the ends of the toxic sub-prime mantle; and pretended to be carrying something; for they would by no means betray anything like simplicity, or unfitness for their office.

So now the Emperor CEO walked under his high canopy in the midst of the bailout procession, through the streets of the Wall Street financial district; and all the bankers and traders standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, “Oh! How beautiful are the Emperor CEO's new asset backed clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the toxic sub-prime mantle; and how gracefully the Level III scarf hangs!” in short, no one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his office. Certainly, none of the Emperor CEO's various suits, had ever made so great an impression, as these invisible ones.

“But the Emperor has nothing at all on!” cried a little child hedge fund manager.

“Listen to the voice of transparency!” exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another.

“But he has nothing at all on!” at last cried out all the hedge fund managers and bear traders.

The Emperor CEO was vexed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the Bailout Procession must go on now! And the lords of the Emperor CEO's bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold up.

The Great Subprime “Babel”—A Modern Tale of Biblical Greed

By WilliamBanzai7

Wall Street never changes. The pockets change, the suckers change, the stocks change, but Wall Street never changes because human nature never changes. - Jesse Livermore

The public’s annual loss to Wall Street has usually been estimated in former years at $100,000,000 per annum, but owing to the more recent enterprising methods of the “Street” in manipulating the game, this estimate is now far to small as we shall see.-Franklin Keyes (1904)

Conceit of the Street

Shortly following the implosion of the great “dot.com” bubble, something happened that was to change the monetary affairs of all men on Earth.
The investment banking tribes had once again begun to proliferate and fill the Street. They spoke a new tongue--the tongue of quantitative engineering. It was a strange tongue with words like VAR, synthetic CDO, conduiting, CLO, SIV, bespoke swaps, CDOs squared, negative default correlations, binomial expansions and stochastic modeling. A tongue curiously reminiscent of the tongue of the late House of ENRON.

Generations of bankers before the “dot.com” bubble, were believers in the fundamental laws of securities valuation. They were believers in the book of Graham and Dodd. They toiled and worked hard to maintain their modest but prosperous existence.

The new generation of investment bankers was different. Theirs was a different code. Their game was a giant opaque pyramid of derivatives and mortgage backed securities. Had they confined themselves to this kind of financial life in a modest fashion, all might have been well. But the obscene income made possible by cheap leverage, financial engineering and securitization techniques made them ever greedier and in their hubris they thought they could beat the financial laws of thermodynamics.

They decided to build a great Tower of mortgage backed securities and derivatives. With this Tower they would pillage the housing markets and at the same time seemingly eliminate all risk for themselves. Heads we win, tails you lose; that was their credo. The symbol of their invincible wealth, as they thought, was to be built in the shadow of the House of Greenspan. It would be squeezed out of Joe Public who was long disdained and exploited by the Lords of the Wall Street kleptocracy. This time they would build tempt Average Joe with reckless mortgage loans supported by an “irrationally exuberant” real estate market.

According to the Lords of the Street, a new paradigm had emerged: financial risk could be sliced and diced into oblivion, cheap leverage is here to stay and housing prices will only go up. Many foresaw the folly of this enterprise. Buffet, the great chief of the House of Berkshire Hathaway, called the new instruments of invincible wealth, financial weapons of mass destruction. But the aging House of Greenspan was oblivious to the great folly unfolding before its jaundiced eye. The unbelievers were admonished to stay in Nebraska where they belonged.


Their Punishment

Finally, the Market decided to punish the arrogance of the bankers by destroying the Tower. First, it, confused them by splitting them up into many greedy tribes, each with a tongue and agenda of its own, (hence the name Babel, meaning “confusion”). A new tribe, the Shorts, arrived and the hunters soon became the hunted. Alas, they were forced to subjugate their vast troves of CDOs to the divine forces of the Market. This ultimate humiliation came to be known as the “great MTM slaughter.”

When this happened, the Tower had to be abandoned. The various bankers would migrate in different directions. Many were fired. Others thought they were headed to the three Byes, Dubai, Mumbai and Shanghai. Instead they wound up flipping burgers in Palookaville. Gone were the good old days of French furniture, French jets and $150 hamburgers.

The Tower itself was partly burned and partly swallowed by the remaining led by the House of JP Morgan. As for the Great Houses of Goldman and Morgan, they were forced to pledge bailout fealty to the Fed, under the wise and benevolent protection of Gentle Ben, the new master of the House of Greenspan. He who would later come to be known as the one and only “Father Moral Hazard”.

GIMME THREE STEP'S WALL STREET SLICKSTER
(GIMME THREE STEPS, Lynard Skynard)
WilliamBanzai7

I was cutting the rug
Down at a place called the Bull and Bear jug
With a mound of bailout bonus loot
When in walked a man
With a gun in his hand
And he was looking for a banker or two.
He said, hey there fellow,
With the Hermes tie colored yellow,
Watcha tryin to prove?
cause that's my money there
And I'm a man who cares
And this might be all for you.

I was scared and fearing for my life.
I was shakin like a bailot zombie.
cause he was lean, mean,
Big and bad, lord,
Pointin that gun at me.
I said, wait a minute, mister,
I ain't no PONZI scheming slickster.
Dont want no trouble with you.
And I know you dont owe me
But I wish youd let me
Ask one favor from you.

(chorus)
Wont you give me three steps,
Gimme three steps mister,
Gimme three steps towards the bailout door?
Gimme three steps
Gimme three steps mister,
And youll never see me no more.

Well the crowd cleared away
And I began to pray
As my blackberry fell on the floor.
And Im telling you son,
Well, it aint no fun
Staring straight down a bailout busting forty-four.
Well he turned and screamed at Cramer on the TV screen
And thats the break I was looking for.
And you could hear me screaming a mile away
As I was headed out towards the door.

(chorus)

WE'RE AN AMERICAN SCAM
(We're an American Band, Grand Funk Railroad)
WilliamBanzai7

Had my bonus barely thirty days,
Last night Obama put me in a purple haze.
Sweet, sweet con jobs -- that's my act,
We had the whole show and thats an unnatural fact.
Up all night watchin Larry King,
Got to tell you jokers bout Wall Street Bling.
Booze n Ponzi tradin keep me right,
As long as we can make it through the show we're alright.

Chorus
We're an American SCAM.
We're an American SCAM.
We're coming to your town, well drive your net worth down.
We're an American SCAM.

Four SPIVs from Bermuda,
Just waitin for the returns from the good old days.
Feelin good, feelin right, its Saturday night,
The SEC detectives -- still out-a-sight.
Now, these fine Wall Street bankers, they had a plan,
They was out to get bailout bonus toys in their hands.
They said, come on, dudes, lets get it on,
And they proceeded to tear the markets down.

Chorus

We're an American SCAM...

Look Out Wall Street: There is a New Sheriff in Town

We have lived through a period when political and business leaders seem to have been able to avoid being held accountable for their reckless and negligent behavior. Sounds like lawyer talk. Well lawyers were intricately involved in this sorry state of affairs. Lets take the Bush administration. What did all the Republican cronies like Cheney learn from the Nixon saga? Don't put yourself in weak position legally. Don't testify under oath. Better yet, don't testify. Don't provide information under threat of perjury and obstruction of justice, better yet don't provide information. They artfully avoided political accountability for a litany of constitutional abuses, executive misconduct and malfeasance.

Now lets consider what has happened in the financial services industry. Until recently, our securities laws forced Wall Street to worry about the way it conducted business. Don't play by regulatory rules with origins in Roosevelt's New Deal and sooner or later the SEC or an Elliot Spitzer clone will hunt you down. You had to worry about adequate disclosure and a battery of rules designed to protect Joe public and the sanctity of the markets. If you misbehaved, you also had to worry about a ravenous plaintiff's bar charged with the duty of prosecuting claims on behalf of investors unable to fend for themselves (for a generous fee, of course).

Those New Deal rules are still there. However, Wall Street managed to water everything down to the point where a man made Katrina hits the financial markets and there is little or no means to hold the perpetrators accountable. The SEC was either clueless or too feeble to chase the bankers who designed, peddled and later lied about their exposure to toxic asset backed securities. What about Credit Default Swaps? Oh, those so called financial weapons of mass destruction are not securities within the meaning of the securities laws. Those are cutting edge risk management tools.

How about so called victims like poor old AIG banding together to sue those who set them up with these improvised financial explosive devices. Never mind, those were sold to sophisticated institutions and "accredited" investors more than able to fend for themselves. Sales to these financial sophisticates are not subject to the same legal regime. We now see that "sophisticated investor" means one who expects to be bailed out by Uncle Sam.

Finally, you won't be seeing any widows and orphans starting class action suits, because no one sold them any securities. Instead, they are accused of being culpable in the great sub-prime meltdown because they fell prey to the army of mortgage brokers who aggressively peddled shadow bank loans. Mortgage brokers owned by who else? Wall Street investment banks like Merrill, Lehman and Bear Stearns. Shadow bank loans? Yep, AAA legal advice.

Let the markets regulate themselves! That is the fundamentalist mantra of the lords of the Street. Well, that is what the markets were actually doing until the SEC decided to act on the shorts. Self regulation came in the surprising form of punishment by the shorts. After all, it was the hedge fund industry, Messrs Einhorn et al, and not the SEC that called Lehman and AIG to the carpet. The SEC, fixed the short problem. Trading bets against financial institutions were temporarily banned. In a comic twist, the SEC planed to force hedge fund managers to testify under oath. Something more than you can expect from the likes of Harriet Myers and Alberto Gonzalez. Ultimately, the reckless bets that the investment banks made with shareholder capital went unpunished.

Well you begin to see how what seems like one big scam is actually a legally airtight apparatus for screwing the public in an indirect manner without being held legally accountable. Time to throw out all of the New Deal regulatory assumptions and start all over again. Wall Street, like the Bush administration, managed to innovate its way out of accountability.

Next came the TARP bailout. Hank Paulsen, a former Goldman Sachs honcho connived Joe taxpayer into shelling out billions to save a corrupt and broken financial juggernaut. Plenty of new opportunities for Wall Street bankers to make a killing cleaning up their own mess.

As we have seen, Paulsen threw the first tranch of TARP money out of the helicopter without attaching any strings. No one seems to be able to explain where the money has gone or the magnitude of the losses yet to be uncovered. Now we learn that billions of dollars were paid in bonuses to employees of institutions that are essentially insolvent absent taxpayer largess. Paulsen and his fellow Goldman Sachs henchman Neel "Kash n Carry" can be credited with designing an opaque bailout that lays perfect ground cover for the continuing incompetence and greed of the scions of Wall Street.

In the latest Act of the Bailout Soap Opera, BAC's CEO Ken "Screwless" Lewis is claiming that management of BAC should not be held accountable for proceeding with the Merrill Lynch merger despite having knowledge of surprise mega losses last December. His defense, "the Feds made me do it". This Bailout defense is the latest twist in the science of executive non-accountability. The bonus hissy fight between Screwless Lewis and John "Complain" Thain is a comedy that rivals Abott and Costello's "Who's on First" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sShMA85pv8M)

There you have it. The TARP Bailout has created a black-hole of corporate accountability. If you are a stakeholder (a shareholder, creditor, bondholder, taxpayer) it is impossible to divine who the Boards and managers of these companies think they owe their fiduciary duty to.

The Obama Administration certainly has its work cut out for it. It looks like we are off to a good start. Someone should have read the "riot act" to the Consumer Finance Industrial Complex long ago. Yesterday, President Obama took the first shot across Wall Street's bow. "Shameless" behaviour will no longer be tolerated. He characterised Wall Street's 2009 bonus payout as "the height of irresponsibility". Concurrently, a message was sent to Citigroup, --your not leaving on a 50 million dollar taxpayer subsidised jet plane. Richard Parson's, Citigroup's incoming Chairman, met with Obama earlier this week. One can only guess what was said in that meeting.

One hundred years ago a man named Franklin Keyes, Esq. published a tract titled: "Wall Street Speculation, Its Tricks and Its Tragedies". In it he said: "Wall Street is dominated by some of the brainiest and shrewdest men in the country, natural born sharpers and schemers, and before the average man can get the better of them, except through the merest chance, he will have to eat brain food for a long time."

We have a President who has eaten plenty of brain food for a long time. Wall Street better get the message: There's a new sheriff in town.

WilliamBanzai7

BREAKING NEWS FROM THE WSJ:

A prominent former top executive at Merrill Lynch was bullish on Bernard Madoff -- and that has cost him and a number of ex-Merrill executives.

Former Merrill chief executives Daniel Tully and David Komansky, along with former Merrill investment-banking chief Barry Friedberg, personally invested in hedge funds with Madoff exposure run by former Merrill brokerage chief John "Launny" Steffens, according to people familiar with the matter.

Poetic justice, no?

HEY BANKER BUM/AQUA LUNG
(Aqua Lung, Jethro Tull)
WilliamBanzai7

Sitting on the park bench --
eyeing little girls with bad intent.
Snot is running down his nose --
greasy fingers smearing filthy designor label clothes.
Hey Banker Bum
Drying in the cold sun --
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Hey Banker Bum
Feeling like a lame leverage duck --
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Whoa, Banker Bum

Sun streaking cold --
an old young man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.
Pride hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end --
he goes down to the Battery
and warms his feet in the cold NY sun.

Feeling alone --
the army's up the road
salvation a la mode and
a cup of bailout tea.
Banker Bum my friend --
don't you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only misplaced Wall Street greed.
Do you still remember
The December's foggy freeze --
when the ice that
clings on to your bonus beard was
screaming agony.
And you snatch your rattling last breaths
with instant message sounds,
and the flowers bloom like
madness in the Bear market spring.

STAIRWAY TO BAILOUT HEAVEN
(Stairway to Heaven, DEBT Zeppelin IV)
WilliamBanzai7

Here's one for all you Bankers out there....

There's a banker who's sure all that his bonus is gold
And he's buying the Stairway to Bailout Heaven.
When he gets there he knows, if the doors are all closed
With a scheme he can get what he came for.
Ooh, ooh, and he's buying the Stairway to Bailout Heaven.

There's a sign at Wall and Broad read it close to be sure
'Cause you know opaque words have two meanings.
Getting fleeced by pinstriped crooks, there's a jailbird who sings,
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it makes me wonder.

There's a feeling I get when I wish to invest,
And I'm trying to avoid innovative thieving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke in the breeze,
And the voices of those who were taken by Ponzi scheming.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

And it's whispered that soon if we all call the regulator's tune
Then the piper will lead fear and greed to reason.
And a new day will dawn for those who buy and go long
And the markets will echo with laughter.

If there's a bust in your hedge, don't be alarmed now,
It's just a spring clean for the market queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There's still time to change the trade you're hooked on.
And it makes me wonder.

Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know,
The market piper's calling you to join him,
Well now laddy, can you hear the DOW blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering winds of greed and irrational exuberance.

And as we wind on down the mythical Alpha Road
Our shadows taller than our NAV soul.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines transparent white light and wants to show
How every get rich quick scheme can never turn to gold.
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll.

And he's buying the Stairway to Bailout Heaven.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

DAVOS, SWITZERLAND
WORLD ECONOMIC FORUM
January 28, 2009

KLAUS SCHWAB, FOUNDER OF WORLD ECONOMIC FORUM ANNOUNCES SURPRISE PANEL

GLOBAL PONZINOMICS: THE VIEW FROM WALL STREET

The following are excerpts from today's surprise panel discussion:

KLAUS SCHWAB: Distinguished guests, today we have arranged a surprise panel to lead us through the cutting edge of Global Ponzinomics. As you all know, the modern day version of Ponzinomics has its origins on Wall Street. I know you are all keen to hear directly from the leaders of Wall Street as well as the regulators all of whom made this remarkable feat of financial wizardry possible. The organisers of the Forum have spared no expense in bringing you a first rate panel. I would like to thank the United States Marshall Service for its cooperation in making it possible for Mr. Madoff to attend the Forum. That is a custom designed Cartier bailout bracelet Bernie is wearing. It is designed to explode if he gets within 50 yards of any UBS Branch in Davos. Mr. Madoff requires no introduction. His genius and modesty is well known. We thought it would be appropriate for Bernie to lead today's panel discussion. At this time I would also like to thank Citigroup for providing special air transport services to bring the panel participants straight to Davos on such short notice. Without further delay, I turn the discussion over to Bernie.

BERNIE MADOFF: "I would like to express my sincere gratitude to many of the participants in this forum. Without their undying support for so many years, my achievements would not have been possible. They deserve much of the credit for making the modern paradigm of this fascinating art possible. As you all know, Ponzinomics were invented by Charles Ponzi some 100 years ago. Who would have thought that the genius of this humble man would become the driving force behind today's global financial markets. Dick, before I forget, would you please be good enough give me the number of that Real Estate lawyer in Palm Beach."

DICK FULD: "We thought we had all the bases covered. We were hedged up the wazoo. I was certain that we managed to make ourselves too big to fail. In the end I was wrong. I underestimated the financial tsunami of 2008. My big mistake was not finding a way to put a Lehman banker in the Treasury Department. Lloyd you snookered me on that one."

JOHN THAIN: "I would like to start by saying three things: First, I have posted my French Commode along with my resume on Craig's list and Monster.com, Second, Ken you can take that faux hand Grenade sitting on your desk and shove it you know where. As we shall see, BAC is one big live hand grenade and Ken has already pulled the pin, Third, can anyone tell me where I can find a reputable antique dealer in Davos? Oh, and one more thing, Stan O Neal owes me my bonus."

KEN LEWIS: "John, you and I both know that I'm the CEO of BAC and you are not. You did not jump on the bailout hand grenade like a good bailout soldier. For this you must suffer the consequences. If this is not good enough, I will meet you on the top of the Weissfluhgipfel at O-700 hours for a Chinese downhill. The downhill will decide everything."

HANK GREENBURG: "You are all a bunch of rascals, give me back my Company so I can lose it fairly!"

LLOYD BLANKFEIN: "As I have said on many occasions, the Goldman investment banking model remains sound. We concentrated our efforts on putting men of Gold in the halls of power. This has paid off handsomely. Hank Paulsen saved us from the AIG explosion. The primary purpose of TARP was to save Goldman Sachs and this goal was achieved magnificently. Hopefully, the hiccups we are experiencing will dissappear in due course. Then we can all get back to business as usual."

VIKRAM PANDIT: "In response to yesterday's negative press we have decided to divide the Citigroup jet fleet into two halves consisting of good jets and bad jets..."

JIMMIE CAYNE: "Anyone know where I can find a decent bridge game around here?"

STEPHEN SCHWARZMAN: As you all know, I am CEO of the Flintstone Group, a humongous (2big) financial (systemic) juggernaut ready to (fail) implode (risk). I don't mean to sound self serving or pedantic, but the reason we are in this mess is very simple, not enough leverage. Remember--Flintstone Group, not enough leverage, systemic risk.

PHIL GRAMM: "If we could just stop all the whining."

ALAN GREENSPAN: "Where am I?"

BOB RUBIN: "Shut up Al, your giving me a headache."

CHRISTOPHER COX: "I just did what I was told to do."

VLAD PUTIN: Gentlemans, you are all cordially invited to spend a few days with my Dacha in Chita Sibera, following this Summit. We Russians would like to thank you (the Russian way) for the financial Chernobyl engineered by your kind selves and the damage to Vodkanomics.

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION:

Go to the WilliamBanzai7 Blog

MAMAS DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE WALL STREET COWBOYS
(MaMa's Dont Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys, Waylon Jennings)
WilliamBanzai7

Wall Street cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
They'd rather give you a tin cup than diamonds or gold.
Gucci belt buckles and Hermes ties,
And each night begins a new trading day.
If you don't understand him, an' he don't die young,
He'll prob'ly just fade away.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Wall Street cowboys.
Don't let 'em carry blackberries, watch Bloomberg or drive Lexus SUV trucks.
Let 'em be doctors or even lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be Wall Street cowboys.
'Cos they'll trade you out of house and home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they pretend to love.

Wall Street Cowboys like smokey old strip clubs and bull market runs,
Gullible lambs to fleece and girls of the night.
Them that don't know him won't like him and them that do,
Sometimes won't know how to tolerate his delusions of grandeur.
He thinks he's invincible, he's not different but his pride won't let him admit it,
Don't do things to make him think he's right.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Wall Street cowboys.
Don't let 'em carry blackberries, watch Bloomberg or drive LEXUS SUV trucks.
Let 'em be doctors or even lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be Wall Street cowboys.
'Cos they'll trade you out of house and home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they pretend to love.

WALL STREET NEVER CHANGES

"Wall Street never changes. The pockets change, the suckers change, the stocks change, but Wall Street never changes because human nature never changes." Jesse Livermore

The noxious news spewing from the marble cesspools of Wall Street continues to get more incredible by the day. In less than a year American's have witnessed a historic melt down in the financial markets, the humbling of the Wall Street Investment banks, a mega housing bust, a mega Ponzi scheme, the mother of all government funded bailouts, compensation greed and excess run amuck, mega regulatory ineptitude, mega layoffs and record unemployment...the list goes on and on.

Those Wall Street scions who figured at the center of this this fiasco have inflicted immeasurable pain and suffering on ordinary Americans. They have sabotaged the engine that drives the American economy and jeopardized the global preeminence of the United States.

Now we are witnessing the complete breakdown of civility amongst these modern day robber baron thieves and their bagmen. The shameless public display of "cover your ass" by the likes of Gramm, Cox, Thain, Lewis, Fuld, Greenspan and company is too nauseating to behold. This week's cat fight between John "Complain" and Ken "Screwless" is the latest example. All who are implicated in this sorry mother of all financial meltdowns refuse to take responsibility.

Comically some expect us to take pity on people like Dick (the "Gorila") Fuld or the thousands of financial spinners the pied pipers of greed led into the financial vortex.

Wait with bated breath for the culprits to be held duly accountable. In the meantime, it is the duty of every right thinking American to hold these scoundrels up to public scorn and ridicule. They deserve to be verbally tarred and feathered. All who exercise their right of free speech by holding these conniving rascals up to the light and exposing them as the despicable Ivy League con men that they are to be congratulated for fulfilling their civic duty.

In 1902, Franklin Keyes, a prominent Wall Street lawyer once said: Wall Street speculation "fosters a ring of idle gamblers, parasites upon society, who prey upon the fortunes of the honest and industrious; such people are a menace to the legitimate business interests of the country and an element of danger to the republic."

Some things never change.

WilliamBanzai7
http://williambanzai7.blogspot.com/

Upright Commode with Safety Rails: Spotted in John Thain's office

P.O.N.Z.I. IN THE U.S.A.

P.O.N.Z.I. SCAMIN in the U.S.A.
(R.O.C.K. in the USA, John Mellencamp)
WilliamBanzai7

Sing along link: http://hk.youtube.com/watch?v=99DH5Eg-VcQ

They came to New York City
To become banksta scamsta financial clowns
MBAs, PhDs, Huckstas and Cons
Smokin securitized crack boom bam

Chorus:
PONZI SCAMIN in the U.S.A.
PONZI SCAMIN its the Wall Street way
PONZI SCAMIN in the U.S.A., yeah, yeah!
SCAMIN' in the U.S.A.

Said goodbye to ethics
Said goodbye to common sense
With dreams of bonus treasure in their heads
And lots of cheap debt and hopium in their hands
Some are black most are white
Ain't to proud to colocate on the NYSE floor tonight
With the blind faith in Croesus you know that they just might, be
SCAMIN' in the U.S.A.
Hey!

Voices from Friedman, Greenspan
And the rest of those Chicago School clowns
Filled their heads full of dreams of limitless greed
Turned the world of finance upside down

There was DICKIE FULD--JIMMY CAYNE--JOHNNY THAIN
(they were SCAMIN')
CITIGROUP--AIG--BAC
(they were SCAMIN')
Spotlight on MADOFF
Let's don't forget CHUCKIE PRINCE, STAN O NEAL and PANDIT THE CLOWN
SCAMIN' in the U.S.A.
SCAMIN' in the U.S.A.
Hey!

Chorus:
PONZI SCAMIN' in the U.S.A.
PONZI SCAMIN' its the Wall Street way
PONZI SCAMIN' in the U.S.A. yeah, yeah!
SCAMIN' in the U.S.A.

KENNY THE BAILOUT MOOCHER
(Minnie the Moocher, Cab Calloway)
WilliamBanzai7

Sing along link: http: KENNY THE BAILOUT MOOCHER
(Minnie the Moocher, Cab Calloway)
WilliamBanzai7

Sing along link: http://hk.youtube.com/watch?v=8mq4UT4VnbE&feature=related

Hey folks here's the story bout Kenny the bailout moocher
He was a low down Charlotte BAC hoochie coocher
His was the roughest toughest banking sob tale
But Kenny had an appetite as big as a securitized whale

Hidehidehidehi (hidehidehidehi)
Hodehodehodeho (hodehodehodeho)
Hedehedehedehe (hedehedehedehe)
Hidehidehideho (hidehidehideho)

One weekend he messed around with a bloke named Thain
He wanted the Merrill Bulls or he'd go completely insane
Thain took him round the block to Chinatown
And showed old Kenny how Wall Street gangstas kick the gong around

Hidehidehide-LEVEL 3 (hidehidehidehi)
Whoah (whoah)
Hedehedehede-GREED (hedehedehedehe)
A hidehidehideho CDO (hidehidehideho)

Kenny had a dream bout yet another financial supermarket
It would give him things that he was needin
It would give him a home built of gold and steel
A diamond studded learjet with platinum wheels

A hidehidehidehidehidehidehi (hidehidehidehidehidehidehi)
Hodehodehodehodehodehodeho (hodehodehodehodehodehodeho)

Thain sold Ken a herd of sick cows and a boatload of subprime losses
Each meal Ken ate was full of surprising new derivative courses
Had a billion dollars worth of taxpayer nickels and dimes
He sat around and counted them all a million times

Hidehidehide-LEVEL 3 (hidehidehidehi)
Hodehodehode-CDO (hodehodehodeho)
Hedehedehede-GREED (hedehedehedehe)
Hidehidehide-HOSED (hidehidehideho)

POOOOOOR MAN
POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR MAN
POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR MAN

Hey folks here's the story bout Kenny the bailout moocher
He was a low down Charlotte BAC hoochie coocher
His was the roughest toughest banking sob tale
But Kenny had an appetite as big as a securitized whale

Hidehidehidehi (hidehidehidehi)
Hodehodehodeho (hodehodehodeho)
Hedehedehedehe (hedehedehedehe)
Hidehidehideho (hidehidehideho)

One weekend he messed around with a bloke named Thain
He wanted the Merrill Bulls or he'd go completely insane
Thain took him round the block to Chinatown
And showed old Kenny how Wall Street gangstas kick the gong around

Hidehidehide-LEVEL 3 (hidehidehidehi)
Whoah (whoah)
Hedehedehede-GREED (hedehedehedehe)
A hidehidehideho CDO (hidehidehideho)

Kenny had a dream bout yet another financial supermarket
It would give him things that he was needin
It would give him a home built of gold and steel
A diamond studded learjet with platinum wheels

A hidehidehidehidehidehidehi (hidehidehidehidehidehidehi)
Hodehodehodehodehodehodeho (hodehodehodehodehodehodeho)

Thain sold Ken a herd of sick cows and a boatload of subprime losses
Each meal Ken ate was full of surprising new derivative courses
Had a billion dollars worth of taxpayer nickels and dimes
He sat around and counted them all a million times

Hidehidehide-LEVEL 3 (hidehidehidehi)
Hodehodehode-CDO (hodehodehodeho)
Hedehedehede-GREED (hedehedehedehe)
Hidehidehide-HOSED (hidehidehideho)

POOOOOOR MAN
POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR MAN
POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR MAN

HIT THE ROAD JOHN THAIN
(Hit the Road Jack, Ray Charles)
WilliamBanzai7

Woah Ken, oh Ken, don't treat me so mean,
You're the meanest and dumbest banker CEO that I've ever seen.
I guess if you said so
I have to pack my French commode and go. (That's right)

(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.)
(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more.)
What you say?
(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.)
(Hit the road Thain and don't you complain no more.)

Now Ken baby, listen, don't ya treat me this-a way
Cause I'll be back to my slippery Wall Street ways one day.
(Don't care if you do 'cause it's understood)
(your pre-merger shennigans just ain't no good)
Well, I guess if you say so
I'd have to pack my French commode and go. (That's right)

(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.)
(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more.)
What you say?
(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.)
(Hit the road Thain and don't you come back no more.)

you must be joking?
(don't you come back no more.)
what you trying to do to me Ken?
(don't you come back no more.)
Didn't you understand it was a sale "as is"?
(don't you come back no more.)
You can't mean that,
(don't you come back no more.)
Oh, now Ken baby, please
(don't you come back no more.)
What you tryin' to do to me?
(don't you come back no more.)
Oh, Ken don't treat me like that
(don't you come back no more.)

FROM: CAPITAL DEFORMATION--Banker Conversations
(WilliamBanzai7)

KEN: Nice carpet John, should I take of my shoes?

JOHN: Use the slippers by the door.

KEN: I hear their selling Bernie's fleet. Some nice hardware there.

JOHN: The guy is a seedy low life crook, he belongs behind bars.

KEN: Come on John, don't be so hard on the man. He's like all of us in a sense.

JOHN: Have a seat KEN (Pointing to COMMODE ON LEGS)

KEN: Man this place make my digs look like a Japanese bankers office.

JOHN: (Sitting in George the IV Chair) Dozo Ken-san. Every Wall Street Shogun has his castle.

KEN: So you got your bonus after all?

JOHN: How so?

KEN: You gave it to all your friends down the hall and spent the pre-installment on this fancy french hardware.

JOHN: You like that eh? It's what we in the business call an AIG omelet.

KEN: You know John, I think I am going to go over and have a look at Bernie's fleet.

JOHN: Shall I join you. You know China Fun is just down the block from his place.

KEN: No John, you stay here and pack this stuff up while I'm gone.

JOHN: Pack?

KEN: Yes, pack. I want you on the street by 5 PM.

JOHN: I don't even have any shrink wrap!

KEN: The only shrink wrap you need is Dr. Schadenfreude rapping the "Bailout shuffle"

JOHN: See you in bailout hell Ken.

KEN: We are already there John. We are already there.

[One hour later]

BERNIE: Ken, you have my sympathy. People just don't appreciate the Ponzi business model in all its subtle manifestations.

KEN: Skip the sermon Bernie, I'll take em all.

WHY I WANT US AIR CAPTAIN SULLENBERGER TO BE THE CEO MY BANK
WilliamBanzai7

On a cold January day when they would have been focused on the incredible
stream of bad news spewing from Wall Street, New Yorkers
were instead treated to the enthralling news that a US Air Flight was averted from disaster by
a brave crew lead by Pilot Chesley Sullenberger III. The
event has been dubbed "The Miracle on the Hudson" and Captain
Sullenberger has been hailed as a hero. He is a modest
man and is evidently reluctant to assume this new status.
What is becoming clear from the news reports is the character of
the man. The passengers of Flight 1549 were fortunate to have
Captain Sullenberger as their pilot. The miracle on the Hudson, it would seem,
was preceded by many many years of dedication, training and "worst case scenario" preparation.

Lets contrast the attributes of Captain Sullenberger with the attributes
of the CEO's piloting the financial institutions attempting to recover from
the so called Black Swan events plaguing the financial markets. After all,
Captain Sullenberger apparently recovered from the mother of all "Black Swan" flight
events, two of them knocking out both engines over a densely populated city.
It would appear that Wall Street has much to learn.

First of all, Captain Sullenberger spent a great deal of time studying and
preparing for a disastrous low probability event. Pilots assume and prepare
for worst case scenarios even though the chance of
occurrence is an outlier. A double engine failure from a bird strike is just such an event.

Lets contrast that with Wall Street CEOs. Its a good thing they are not
airline pilots. They were all totally unprepared for the events leading to the
current bailout debacle. They would argue that these were Black Swan events of
of highly unlikely probability. Nouriel Roubini and Nicholas Taleb would beg to differ.
There was plenty of adequate warning. Instead of cooly preparing to ditch like
Captain Sullenberger, they continued their assent on a tank filled with fumes. Now their instituitions are crashing in flames.
They can be compared to Icarus flying too close to the sun with their wax wings melting in mid flight.

Next, Captain Sullenberger trained and knew how to fly his aircraft with both engines
knocked out. Gliding is one of his side pursuits and this apparently figured positively
in the perfect Hudson landing. Lets contrast this with Wall Street CEOs.
They have no idea how to fly their institutions with their primary economic engines
knocked out. Lloyd Blankfein insists that Goldman Sachs can fly the same investment banking
model it has been flying for years. What if Captain Sullenberger had flown Flight 1549
as if both engines remained fully operational?

Onward, Captain Sullenberger is honest and transparent. His passengers were his stakeholders and
he pulled no punches. His laconic words: "Brace for impact." Wall Street bankers are not
transparent, if they were flying Flight 1549 here is the kind of mealy mouthed
dribble the passengers would have heard: Attention all passengers, we appear to be challenged
by strong headwinds and both our engines appear troubled but nevertheless well positioned to
see us through to a safe landing. We have run a regression analysis on
the relevant data and are 99% confident that this plane is adequately positioned to
exploit future flying opportunities."

Finally Captain Sullenberger is selfless, he was the last
one to disembark from his vessel only after he checked twice to make sure everyone was safe.
Lets contrast that with Wall Street CEOs. There are two kinds, those who took the money and bailed early
and those who stayed behind to usher their crew out the layoff exit. Need I say more?

Yes its a good thing Wall Street CEOs are not airline pilots. They have much
to learn from Captain Sullenberger. And that is why I want Captain Sullenberger to be the CEO
of my bank. But, guys like Capt Sullenberger only engage in endeavors that they have trained for.

YOU'RE JOHN THAIN
(You're so Vain, Carley Simon)
WilliamBanzai7

You waltzed into the Bail Out party
Like you were sailing on an unsinkable yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye
Your scarf it was really hiding a mega Merrill subprime surprise
You had one eye on the Level III mirror
As you watched yourself gavotte
And all those second rate Charlotte Bankers dreamed that they'd be your partner
They'd be your partner, and

You're John Thain
And yes this song is about you
Don't complain
I'll bet you think B of A can't live without you
Without you? Without you?

You had Ken Lewis several months ago
When he was so naive its hard to believe
Well, you said that the Thundering Herd would make an awesome notch on his sleeve
And that you John Thain would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved
And one of them was a 10 Million Dollar bonus snub
And good ol Ken's grandiose dreams turned out to be clouds in his bailout coffee
Clouds in his bailout coffee, and

You're John Thain
And yes this song is about you
You're John Thain
I'll bet you think B of A can't live without you
Don't you? Don't you?

ALL ALONG THE WALL STREET WATCHTOWER
(All Along the Watchtower, Bob Dylan/Jimi Hendrix)
WilliamBanzai7

There must be some kind of way out of here
Said the investor to the banker thief
Theres too much opaque confusion
I cant get no relief
Wall Street con men they drink my wine
Ponzi rigged investment schemes
None will level on the line
Nobody thinks we've reached the worst
Hey hey

No reason to get excited
The banker thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who feel that the markets are but a joke but uh
But you and I weve been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely and deceptive now
The market hours getting late
Hey

Hey

All along the Wall Street watchtower
Banker princes kept the view
While those laid off came and went
Back office servants to, but huh
Outside in the cold distance
The mother of all Bears did growl
New Fed Bailout riders were approachin
And the declining market winds began to howl
Hey
Oh
All along the Wall Street watchtower
Hear you sing around the watch
Gotta beware gotta beware
Yeah
Ooh baby
All along the Wall Street watchtower

OH "B of A" FLOAT AWAY
(Oh Shenandoah)
WilliamBanzai7

Oh B of A,
Your Board's retarded,
Float away as your shareholders quiver,
Oh B of A,
Your CEO has screwed you,
Away, your market caps bound away
'Cross the wide Merrill Level III divide.

Oh B of A,
Your market cred's been slaughtered,
Squandered away as your Board twittered,
They'll take her 'cross
The rollin' bailout river,
Away, your bound away
'Crossing Paulsen's rolling TARP highwater line.

'Tis been just one Q,
Since Merrill bent you over,
And on that day
You thought you could win by being bigger,
But your shareholder returns,
Began their downward spiral,
Sucked away, sucked away
In the Bear market's fury.

Oh B of A,
Sorry but we have to leave you.
Away you inept Magilla,
Oh B oa A,
We've all been deceived by you.
Now we're bound away
To escape another sorry mismanaged Mega Bank story.

Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains

(Ode to TARP ACT II)

(to the melody of Big Rock Candy Mountains)
Lyrics By WilliamBanzai7


One evening as the DOW went down and the S&P was burning
Down the track came a banker hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's not far away from Wall Street's crystal towers
So come with me we'll go and see the Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains

In Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow from the bailout pros and you sleep sound every night
Where the ABS books are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the bonus trees
Where the perrier springs where the squawk box sings
In the Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains

In Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains all the FEDs have wooden legs
And the shorts all have rubber teeth and the taxpayers lay golden eggs
The trading books are full of fruit and the bankers play all day
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains

In Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains you never sell your toxic schlock
And the glimmering streams of origination fees come a-trickling down the rocks
The enforcers have to tip their hats and the bears and shorts are banned
There's a lake of foies gras stew and of champagne too
You can sail all around 'em in your custom yachts
In Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains

In Paulsen's Rock Candy Mountains white collar jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
In Paulsen's Big Rock Candy Mountains