Tim Knight from Slope of Hope's blog

Here are some snippets from an interview from New Yorker magazine with the queen of trading on the cusp, 16-year-old Rachel Fox (as in Stocks; it rhymes, get it?), the shoeshine girl of the modern age. 

Well, my fellow Slope-a-Dopes, your selfless Idiotic Savant servant, whom is securely chained to his desk, has spent a significant part of the long weekend, perusing nearly every finance blog on the world wide web for you.  Therefore, I can reliably report to the SOH, that the overwhelming consensus out there in the financial blogosphere, which has now reached a nearly universal feverish pitch, is boldly & proudly heralding that a most encouraging new economic dawn is finally upon us.  It seems, a pristine permanent plateau of prosperity has been patently perfected.

Well, my fellow Slope-a-Dopes, although this will undoubtedly be a dreadful decidedly devastating disappointment to many of you, I have chosen to put away my almighty artistically asinine alliteration pen for this Sunday's super significant spectacularly special EP.  Instead of dazzling you with my proficient pathetically putrid pitiful prose, I will focus my alertly astute attention on a stupefyingly serious subject.

Well, my fellow Slope-a-Dopes, you may have noticed that I have been completely turned upside down by this week's developments.  Let me be clear, my crazed compromised counter comportment has nothing to do with the fact that the sitting U.S. president was re-elected.  After all, every single national poll, swing state survey, and comprehensive electoral college considerations, had the President as the winner by a cushy considerably comfortable count.  In this age of definitive digital data mining, why anyone would have been surprised by the well known outcome entirely eludes even eye.  The only truly shocking surprise, would have been if the dastardly dog delivery dirtbag had beaten the coy corrupt community creep.  So what has utterly upset & upended your favorite Idiot Savant's uneven universe?

Back in the late 1980s, the entire business world was obsessed with Japan. It's no wonder that this was the case: here was a country which had emerged from the ashes of World War 2 and had become the world's second-largest economy. They made high-quality cars, consumer electronics, semiconductors, plus they seemed to have a management style and work ethic that put the "good old USA" to shame.

Well, my fellow Slope-a-Dopes, I've been hearing a lot about the dreaded "Fiscal Cliff" for quite some time now.  So I decided to take a flying frog freelance free fall leap into the woefully written word abyss, to see if I could sort out for myself, when and how we would experience the coming sensational supersonic splat. 

Even though The Powers That Be pushed the market higher at the close, I was pretty pleased with how the day went. My portfolio was profitable for most of the day - - although a lovely five-figure profit dwindled to a two-figure profit (!) by day's end - - but the point is that my portfolio hugely outperformed the market (on an inverse basis since, as you've probably guessed, I was so short I could jump off a nickel). I remain positioned for a fall.

Well, my fellow Slope-a Dopes, your favorite intrepid seafaring Frenchman got blown out of the water by Benjamin Moby-Dick Bernanke once again.  I have to hand it to captain grey beard, for a guy with a curiously quivering lower lip, who seems so utterly unsure of himself every time he opens his moronic mouth, he sure does have some pair of ballistic brass balls.  Not only did he delivered on his QE3 promise, but he actually turbo charged it into a terrifying trifecta!  Boatswain BDI was left for dead, desperately drowning in a sea of red DOOMs (Deep Options Out of the Money).  So now that Moby Dick has breached and surged the equity waves to new highs, where do we sail from here?  

We live in insane times. I mean this sincerely.

The reason they don't seem insane is because we have been led here, bit by bit. We are like the proverbial frogs in the pot full of water; the temperature has been turned up very gradually, and we don't notice what a dire situation we're in.

Let's just step back and look at the facts: the entire financial world is breathlessly awaiting the words of a lifelong academic who couldn't successfully manage a Burger King. The most powerful position in the financial universe has been given to The Bearded One, and while all the chatter this week is going to focus on whose Jackson Hole is going to get reamed, the real fireworks will be on September 13th.

I just finished reading Octopus by Guy Lawson, and it's one of those that fit the "I Couldn't Put It Down" category, much like Den of Thieves, published in 1992. It is the tale of Sam Israel, whom you may remember in 2006 was on the lam from his failed hedge fund/Ponzi scheme. He faked his suicide, was captured, and is now hanging out for the next couple of decades (with none other than Bernie Madoff) in a state prison named, of all things, Valhalla.

One day - - maybe in a month, a year, a few years - God knows - - - Apple is going to make the first in a series of stumbles. I cannot conjure what kind of epic screw-up Apple would have to make in order to surrender its firm grasp over Earth, but there is no such thing as a company that thrives and dominates until the end of time.

After many instances of prodding from readers, I finally bought and read The Fourth Turning, and I'm sorry that I waited so long.

I just finished Days of Destruction, Days of Revolt by Chris Hedges and Joe Sacco. It is superb, and I've spent a fair amount of time typing in passages from the book below in order to capture some of its theme.

Things have changed quite a bit. With Facebook's stock now at a 50% loss (measured against its high, set within minutes of the May 18th initial public offering), it's becoming clear that just about every entity - human, corporate, and the way things are going, perhaps even extraterrestrial - that touches Facebook gets the zap put on them. Off the top of my head:

Long-time Slopers know that I have had a special place in my black heart for Chipotle Mexican Grill. How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways: