A SuBPRiMe CHRiSTMaS CaRoL (2012)

williambanzai7's picture






(PaRT I)






E-Bernank Scrooge lived all alone in an old house. The yard was very dark and scary that night and when Scrooge wanted to unlock the door, he had the feeling that he saw John Maynard Keyne's face there.

This was rather spooky, but Scrooge was not frightened easily.

“Bah Munger,” he said, opened the door and walked in. He locked himself in, however, which he usually didn’t do. But then he felt safe again and sat down before the fire.


Suddenly, Scrooge heard a noise, deep down below, as if somebody was dragging a heavy chain. The noise came nearer and nearer, and then Scrooge saw a ghost coming right through the heavy door.

It was Keynes' ghost, and his chains were long; they were made of cash-boxes, HP ink jet cartidges and heavy purses.


“Who are you?” said Scrooge

“In theory I am your PhD ghost partner, John Maynard Keynes."

“But why do you come to me now?”

“I must wander through the world and I wear these chains because I was a naive old PhD fool in life.

I only cared about fanciful money printing theories but not about the people around me.


Now, I am here to warn you.

You still have a chance, E-Bernank.

Three spirits will come to you. Expect the first tomorrow, when the NYSE trading bell tolls open.”

When he had said these words, Keyne’s ghost disappeared; and the night became quiet again.

E-Bernank Scrooge went straight to bed, without undressing, and fell asleep immediately.




When E Bernank Scrooge awoke, it was still very foggy and extremely cold, and there was no noise of people on Wall Street.

Keynes' ghost bothered him.

He didn’t know whether it was a dream or not. Then he remembered that a spirit should visit him at the opening NYSE bell.

So instead of having a Brazilian butt, head and back wax at the Federal Reserve barbershop, E-Bernank Scrooge decided to lie awake and wait to see what happens.


Suddenly, the NYSE opening bell struck. Light flashed up on his trading screen and a small ink stained hand drew back the curtains of his bed.

Then E-Bernank found himself face to face with the visitor. It was a strange figure – like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old decrepit Randian fool.

“Who, and what are you?” E-Bernank Scrooge asked the ghost.


“I am Maestro the Ghost of Busted Bubbles Past. Rise and come with me.”

The ghost took Scrooge back in time, to a place where E Bernank Scrooge studied as a young PhD candidate. There Scrooge could see his younger self playing foolish market equilibrium games with other delusional central banker wannabes and future bonehead Nobel Laureates.

They were cheerfully running around a cheap imported Christmas tree made in China; and although they were hopelessly naive in their theoretical assumptions, they had lots of geek fun.

The spirit also took E-Bernank Scrooge to a money printing factory where Scrooge was an apprentice.

Scrooge saw the merry Christmas Eve they spent on the printing presses with his boss Mr Fuzzidice and his family. There was food and music and dancing and everybody was happy.

Then the spirit took Scrooge to yet another place. Scrooge was older now. He was not alone, but sat by the side of a beautiful young girl. There were tears in her eyes.

“It is sad to see,” she said, softly. “that yet another moron has displaced me – the love of fools gold. Your heart was full of real gold once, but now …? I think it is full of QE crap. Fiat fraud begets fraud...swindle begets swindle...error begets error and the whole cycle soon becomes woebegotten.

May you be happy in the lunatic path of monetary expansion you have chosen.”

“Spirit,” said Scrooge, “show me no more. Take me home. Why do you torture me?”


“One shadow more,” said the ghost.

They were in another scene and place; a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. There was a happy group celebrating Christmas with all their warmth and heartiness. Scrooge recognized his former girlfriend. She was married now and had children.

Sweetheart said her husband with a smile, “I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon. E-Bernank Scrooge it was. I passed his office window; and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could see him there. His money printing plan to revive the economy is faltering miserably and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.”


“Spirit,” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “Take me back! I cannot bear it any longer.”

He struggled with the ghost to take him back.

And finally Scrooge found himself in his own bed again. He was very exhausted and sank into a heavy sleep.







E-Bernank Scrooge woke up in the middle of a snore, just before the CNBC midday report. He sat up in his bed and waited for the second ghost to come.



And there it was – the Ghost of Never Ending Banksta Presents. It had a curly brown toupee, sparkling eyes and it wore a simple greenback robe with white fur. Its feet were bare as the theoretical justifications for it's nauseating bloviations. It wore a holy bailout wreath and thick glasses.

"Didn't I just see you" inquired Scrooge.

"Shut up and don't be a wiseass if you know what's good for you" replied the ghost. 



The ghost took Scrooge to his former partner Hank Paulson's house – a not too shabby poor little 12 bedroom Park Avenue penthouse. In the kitchen you could see Mrs Paulson screaming at the maids preparing Christmas bailout dinner. Her spawn were cheerfully running around playing hide and go swindle.

Then the door opened and Hank came in with Tiny Timmah upon his shoulders.

Tiny Timmah was Hank's dumbest protege. The only government salaried employee in the family. He bore a little crutch and wore a noose around his neck.

“On our way home, Tiny Timmah told me that he hoped the people saw him in the Harvard-Soviet Club, because he was a very very very important government central planning employee.

It might be pleasant to them to remember on Christmas Day, who made Bankstas rich and stroked that blind choom chugging fool Obama to sleep.” Hank's voice trembled when he said this.





Then the Christmas bailout dinner was ready, and everyone sat down at the table. As the Paulson's were very very very very...very poor by Forbes billionaire standards, it was not much they had for Christmas bailout dinner.

But still everyone was joyful and you could feel that they all had the TARP Bailout Spirit in their hearts.

“A Merry Christmas to all Bankstas my dears! God bless them. Let the rest suck it up and cope!” said Hank.

“God bless Bankstas, each and every one of em!” said Tiny Timmah.





He sat very close to his mentor's side upon his little stool. Hank held his little hand, as if he feared to lose him.

“Spirit,” said Scrooge, who felt sorry for the feckless moron, “tell me if Tiny Timmah will keep his job.”

“I see an empty Treasury Secretary seat,” replied the ghost, “and a noose with Timmah's name embroidered on it. If these shadows don’t change in the future, the happy moron will get lynched and hung with his chestnuts roasted over a Main Street open fire.”

This made Scrooge very sad for a nano-moment, but the spirit went on and took Scrooge to his best friend Lloyd Blankfein's penthouse at 15 Central Park West.




Lloyd and his slimy friends had a very cheerful party and played squidilious games like suck a buck, subpenny the client and schtup the Kraut banker.

E-Bernank Scrooge really enjoyed their celaphopodic party and wanted to stay for another while but in a second it all faded and Scrooge and the spirit were again on their travels.

They visited many homes in fraudclosure: they saw rich Wall Street financiers and Bankstas who were glad to have QE Infinity and wanted more in the form of QE IV; PIIGS in foreign lands who were close to bankrupt but saved by the ECB bailout clock, poor common people whose bank accounts shrunk smaller every day – all because of the spirit of QE+N..., can-kick-onomics and moron hazard.

Suddenly, E-Bernank Scrooge noticed something strange about the ghost. Two children-like figures were at the ghost’s feet – a boy and a girl. But, they looked old and dreadful, like little monsters.

Scrooge was shocked.

“Spirit, are they your creatures?” Scrooge asked.

“They are Wall Street's creatures,” said the spirit “The boy is Want, The girl is Want More. Cherish them both, but most of all cherish this girl” said the spirit.


“Have they no place they can go?” asked Scrooge.


“There are no prisons for Bankstas just like there are no Chinese iPad workhouses for the unemployed?” the spirit turned on Scrooge with his own words.


The NYSE bell struck the close.

The Ghost of Neverending Banksta Presents disappeared.

And at the last stroke of the bell, Scrooge saw the third ghost coming towards him.










“Slowly and silently the ghost came nearer. It was very tall and wore a deep black piece of clothing, which covered its whole body and left nothing of it visible but one outstretched hand holding a stinking counterfeit Cohiba cigar stub.


Are you the Ghost of Crashes Yet to Come?” asked E-Bernank Scrooge, “I fear you more than any other spirit.”

The ghost did not say a word, and Scrooge was really scared.

They wandered through lower Manhattan past OWS stragglers at Zuccotti Park and Scrooge heard some men in Guy Fawkes masks talking about a Central Banksta who had jumped.

E-Bernank knew the men and wanted to find out, whom they were talking about. But the spirit moved on.


They next stopped in a swanky uptown area where many pinstriped thieves and liars lived. They had stolen things with them and made fun of the person who once owned those things.

“Ha, ha!” laughed a woman, “He threw everyones money out of the chopper when he was alive, to profit us even more when he was gone! Ha, ha, ha!”

After that, the ghost led Scrooge through streets that were familiar to him; and as they went along, E-Bernank Scrooge looked here and there to find himself, but nowhere was he to be seen.


They entered poor poor poor Hank Paulson's penthouse and found the mother and the Paulson spawn browsing Zero Hedge.

Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy Paulsons were as still as statues.

When Hank came in, the children hurried to greet him.

Then two young Paulsens got upon his knees and laid their little cheeks against his face as if to say, “Don’t mind it, father. Don’t be sad.”


“You went to Maiden Lane today?” said his wife.

“Yes, my dear,” returned Hank. “I wish you could have gone. It would have you good to see how well guarded the place is.

But you’ll see it annually. I promised him that we would walk there every April Fools Day in his honor.


My little, little Timmah.” cried Hank. “My little captive moron.”

He broke down in tears. He couldn’t help it. If he could have helped it, he and his Banksta loving protege would have been farther apart perhaps than they were.

The ghost moved on and took E-Bernank Scrooge to Trinity Church graveyard.

The spirit stood among the graves and pointed down to one.

E-Bernank Scrooge slowly went towards it and following the ghost’s finger read upon the stone "The Great Asset bubbles of QE".

“Spirit!” E-Bernank cried, “hear me. I am not the money printing PhD fool I was!

I will not be the Central Banksta I must have been so far! Why show me this if I am past all hope? Good Spirit, I will honour austerity in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.

I will live in the past, the present, and the future. The spirits of all three shall be within me. I will not ignore the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me that I may change my fate so I may adorn the cover of Time Magazine yet again!”






Full of fear, Scrooge caught the spirit’s hand. But the spirit suddenly changed – it shrunk and faded and finally turned into a giant fraudclosure sign post...

And the calendar said December 25, 2012....



"There is nothing Sir, too little for so little a creature as man. It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little misery and as much happiness as possible."--Samuel Johnson



To ALL Ye ZeRo HeDGeRS, 




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blindman's picture

Robert Earl Keene's Merry Christmas from the Family
tom waits- christmas card from a hooker in minneapolis
sea sun greenings tulla 'ya.

I am on to you's picture

Love to all from:

Ghostmans sacked you all spirits!

Mentaliusanything's picture

In a World of kicking the can down the road it takes only one to kick it back well enough to upset the game. 

Bill your soccer skills put Becham to shame.

May the new year see you in mainstream print (a Christmas Wish) so you can bend the bastards over.

A warm a happy Festive season for one who tells it true.

Never give up for that is to surrender to a fate only cowards chose.

Yen Cross's picture

 I built businesses. In dealt with employee issues for 15 years!  I'm done!  Fuck employeees, and anything that deals with employees! My friends ask me to teach. ( NO FUCKING THANK YOU)

Element's picture

You're cruel man Mr Banzai, but this is even crueler, we ain't out of the woods yet!


Doomsday re-scheduled? Archaeological record suggests Mayan Armageddon is Sunday
Published: 22 December, 2012, 03:45


Just as the world sighs in relief at having escaped the Mayan Armageddon, the ancient prophesy may still hold true. According to one archaeologist, the end could come as early as this Sunday. [apparently not]
­Scholars have not yet solved the ancient riddle, as the Maya calendar has not been fully decoded and correlated to the Western, or Gregorian, calendar. [now they tell us!]
Therefore the Mayan calendar's cycle, which some argue marks the end of days,  might correspond to Sunday instead of the widely-rumored Friday, Carmen Rojas, an archaeologist with Mexico’s National Institute of Anthropology and History has revealed to the Los Angeles Times.
The Mayan archaeological community believes that the surviving pillars showing the Mayan calendar's dates may have been modified throughout history to suit the cultural or political interests of the day. [they fudged the figures!]
All of these factors made Rojas believe that the thirteenth baktun cycle, which equates to 144,000 days, or 394.26 tropical years, ends on Sunday, while others say it might be off by a full year or more.



Could be a year ... or more ... who the hell pays these 'academics' to count?

Arkadaba's picture

Thank you to the zerohedgers and community. I have learnt tons over the past years following this site. Thanks to all the commentators who have provided great insight and links to more reading. Thanks to the trolls who have made me sharpen my critical thinking and argumentative skills. And thanks for the humour - at times greatly needed. 

Merry Christmas


Nobody For President's picture

Thanks again. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a felitious fiscal cliff...

Yen Cross's picture

 You like Asian girls/  Merry Christmas  Billy 7

nah's picture

funny o o oooooooooooooooooooooo

diogeneslaertius's picture

more than i deserve

Merry Christmas everyone :)

Rogue Economist's picture

T'was the Nightmare Before Christmas


T’was the night before Christmas, when across all the seas
Not a Doomer was stirring, not even RE.
The False Flags were in the MSM all over the place,
While Politicians mumbled their words of disgrace.

The Diners were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Mad Max danced in their heads
WHD in his Red Afro Wig, and I in my hat
Had just settled in to watch Civilization go splat.

When out on the internet there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the Laptop to see what was the matter.
Over to Google I flew like some birds,
To type in Apocalypse and other Keywords.

The news on the net was like new fallen snow,
Flakes of disaster everywhere I would go.
Off with my wandering keyboard fingers I went to visit
Zero Hedge, Survival.com and 8 blowhard Collapse Pundits

The news was so bad I surfed ever faster,
searching wide to find the cause of disaster.
More rapid than Assault Rifle gunfire the news came on in,
Of Earthquakes, Volcanoes and all Human Sins.

Now Kunstler! Now Orlov! Now, McPherson and even Jim Quinn!
On Ruppert! On Gail! On, on Denninger and Steve from Virgin!
To TEOTWAWKI as we head for a mighty big fall!
Now Dash away, Dash Away! Dash away from it all!

As Mall Signs and Rooftops before the wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
Every keyboard was flying, calls of the end came everywhere
The Doomosphere was just chock full of despair.

And then in a twinkling, I read on the net
Illuminati across the Globe were begining to Sweat.
Bond spreads were wide, Futures were down,
Derivatives and CDOs were beginning to drown.

Gold bugs were Frantic, piles of Maple Leafs high to the sky,
While at Safeway and Walmart not a Twinkie to buy!
Preppers were loading their Glocks full of Lead,
Hoping to be the last of the Doomers left dead.

Permaculture raised beds and hydroponics were secured,
as Industrialization’s Ills could not be cured.
Heirloom Seeds in Nitrogen vaccuum packs were stored,
Ground floor windows were covered with 2×4 boards.

In Central Park all the OWSers set tents on the Grass,
the showdown with the NYPD would now come to pass.
The truckers rolled in and the Hell’s Angels too,
then the Longshoremen came in from out of the blue.

In CONgress the budget went over the Cliff,
while Obama said, “Hey, what’s the diff?
My Man Benny has the Inkjets all ready!”
No worries folks, the economy will stay steady.

In Brussels at the IMF the Eurocrats fumbled,
playing violins as the Euro crumbled.
In Japan the Sushi was glowing,
While Abe made sure those Yen kept on flowing.

In MENA the Drone Aircraft were flying,
with Women and Children doing most of the dying.
In the Straights of Hormuz Mines were placed to counter the Drones,
So all the tankers and carriers would be sent to Davey Jones.

In China the economy was rocking,
Ghost Cities and Bridges to Nowhere filled up their stockings.
Foxconn workers off factory rooftops went jumping,
While the Iphones out of the factory kept pumping.

The situation was dire, the whole world was on fire.
Everyone everywhere all caught in the mire.
The whole human race so utterly lost,
Happy Motoring and Industrialization exacting a terrible cost.

RE sprang to his keyboard to give the Diners some HOPE,
even though the world seems at the end of its rope.
They heard him exclaim, ‘ere the Internet went out of sight,
“Happy christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!”


misitu's picture

Thank you very much WB7 - a true polymath - for this amazingly well constructed and executed piece of satire.

Your work this year has leavened the horrible flour milled out by our manque "leaders and betters" and brought smiles among all the anxieties and fears.

For 2013 and beyond, thanks so much for your unceasing contributions to this debate, and ¡que te vaya bien!

Misitu del Suroeste. 

BidnessMan's picture

I was laughing at Brazilian Butt Wax and it just got better from there.  Thank you for all the laughter you provided in 2012, and look forward to your great works in 2013.  Happy horridays as your young ladies would say!

rufusbird's picture

Merry Christmas W. B., and Thank You....I got my present to my self just in time for Christmas. A Green Long sleeve T-shirt with your "Primary Dealers" imprinted on the front. looks Great!

williambanzai7's picture

Riot with it in good health. ;-)

GottaBKiddn's picture

Absolutely Brilliant, Mr. Banz!

You made my Christmas.

Au's picture

Brilliant! Thanks for the laugh.

falak pema's picture

after the horror banksta show the happy bunny hour show; thanks WB7 and a merry merry merry Xmas. 

As Newton would say; two apples for the price of none! 

Dagny Taggart's picture

Happy Holidays William and thank you.

williambanzai7's picture

Happy Holidays to you as well!

palmereldritch's picture

Gravity, the big G

G R A V I T Y, gravity

Say it, gotten a hold on me


the grateful unemployed's picture

that snowman has a really big smile

BidnessMan's picture

Geez - you must have been looking somewhere besides the pretty asian girl's face to notice the snowman with the really big smile.  Imagine that.  Course you would have been smiling too if you had been in that approximate location.

machineh's picture

Toto ... I don't think we're in Hong Kong no more!

(if it's Tuesday, this must be Phuket.)

the grateful unemployed's picture

Fed QE Flying Machine: Insert head here, and Fly!

willwork4food's picture

That would look better if you said " Holiday message to Congress". Just a thought.

williambanzai7's picture

For them we have reserved the guillotines...(figuratively speaking of course ;-)).

williambanzai7's picture

I spotted the Grinch...


the grateful unemployed's picture

are those Salvation Army girls? i could give up drinking, sure i could.

williambanzai7's picture

You'll wind up drinking, one way or another.

DollarMenu's picture

Thanks for all you do WB7 -  Merry Christmas!

shovelhead's picture

`Mercy!'' he said. ``Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?''

``Man of the worldly mind!'' replied the Ghost, ``do you believe in me or not?''

``I do,'' said Scrooge. ``I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?''

``It is required of every man,'' the Ghost returned, ``that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world -- oh, woe is me! -- and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!''


And there you have it.

Have a very merry Keynesian Christmas.

Even though you didn't build it.


Ps. Dear Santa: Please leave at least one of your Banzai Elves under my tree.

shovelhead's picture

`Mercy!'' he said. ``Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?''

``Man of the worldly mind!'' replied the Ghost, ``do you believe in me or not?''

``I do,'' said Scrooge. ``I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?''

``It is required of every man,'' the Ghost returned, ``that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world -- oh, woe is me! -- and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!''


And there you have it.

Have a very merry Keynesian Christmas.

Even though you didn't build it.

willwork4food's picture

Wonderful girls, ah,... I mean work ,W7!

May your stockings be filled with a dozen cute Oriental ladies!

(that is if Mrs. W7 doesn't mind.)

the grateful unemployed's picture

don't forget the part where he goes to the trading desk inside the federal reserve building, and types in "Remove Apparition", but the computer message replies "Not A Policy Alternative"...

"What? Policy answers everything. You answer to the Policy, stupid computer..!!"

that's when the ghost really takes over

monad's picture

Sharon, ambitious of immortal shame,
Fame's dead-wall daubed with his illustrious name-
Served in the Senate, for our sins, his time,
Each word a folly and each vote a crime;
Law for our governance well skilled to make
By knowledge gained in study how to break;
Yet still by the presiding eye ignored,
Which only sought him when too loud he snored.
Auspicious thunder!-when he woke to vote
He stilled his own to cut his country's throat;
That rite performed, fell off again to sleep,
While statesmen ages dead awoke to weep!
For sedentary service all unfit,
By lying long disqualified to sit,
Wasting below as he decayed aloft,
His seat grown harder as his brain grew soft,
He left the hall he could not bring away,
And grateful millions blessed the happy day!
Whate'er contention in that hall is heard,
His sovereign State has still the final word:
For disputatious statesmen when they roar
Startle the ancient echoes of his snore,
Which from their dusty nooks expostulate
And close with stormy clamor the debate.
To low melodious thunders then they fade;
Their murmuring lullabies all ears invade;
Peace takes the Chair; the portal Silence keeps;
No motion stirs the dark Lethean deeps-
Washoe has spoken and the Senate sleeps.

q99x2's picture

Does that mean the Santa Claus rally isn't happening? And no January effect? Owww shucks those banksters sure are a bunch of bad men.

resurger's picture

Merry Xmas WB7, LK, Tylers , and all my fellow ZH's

thanks for all the great cartoon through 2012, you are 1 in a million man.


weyes1's picture

Ask and we shall receive.

You ROCK William!  Merry Christmas to you all!

Disenchanted's picture



Here's another updated Christmas Story...Happy Holodaze WB7 and thanks for all you do.




The settlements were still being built, financed mostly by Jewish money from America, contributions from Wall Street speculators and owners of gambling dens.
Disenchanted's picture



I had a revelation the other day and I think I've discovered what Lloyd was referring to when he claimed to be doing "God's work."


English Standard Version (©2001)
You shall suck the milk of nations; you shall nurse at the breast of kings; and you shall know that I, the LORD, am your Savior and your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob. Isaiah 60:16




Complete Jewish Bible

But you will be called cohanim of ADONAI, spoken of as ministers to our God. You will feed on the wealth of nations, and revel in their riches. ~ Isaiah 61:6 . King James Version But ye shall be named the Priests of the LORD: men shall call you the Ministers of our God: ye shall eat the riches of the Gentiles, and in their glory shall ye boast yourselves. ~ Isaiah 61:6