@cicerone imposter,
What happened ci. was this---on a giant spending spree people forget about one of the oldest scientific laws: what goes up must come down. It's gravity, or better, centre of gravity. It's not rocket science.
We all participated in the spree. Even the poor got mobile phones, big TV, DVDs and a load of other junk besides and went running to Nursie screaming like a stuck pig everytime they cut their finger on the electric can opener.
Our usually staid banks got sucked into Wall Street wizardry with numbers and speed. And it was a pyramid. A Ponzi.
We loved it. We watched TV programmes and read articles about how the fat cat bonuses were spent in a blitz of conspicuous consumption. There's a bloke from the back streets of Leeds with an open-neck shirt costing a grand sat in a mansion with his charming wife waving his arms over artworks and an ex-hod carrier leading a Grand National winner in. Look at you--flying and cruising round the world with de-luxe service and you're more or less a wanker.
It was great. That's why they got the bonuses just like footballers do when they are winning. We can all win. And we did.
So the plan now is to disconnect, unscramble, our nice banks from the Brains and give them back to Ploddie. And the Wall Street Wizards are set on unravelling it as they are the only ones who understand it.
And more bonuses for meeting targets measured by the decibel level of our squeals. We all know the sticking plaster has to come off and Nursie goes at a rate the ouches lead her to think is fast enough for her eardrums and compassion to take.
So I predict a slowish, fairly long-drawn out period of low to medium suffering mitigated by certain distractions of one sort or another, an ace sex scandal say. One that will make the Monica affair look like taking tea at the Vicarage.
It is a privilege of a democracy that we are allowed to bleat as Girl Guides are said to bleat when they get lost in a snowstorm.
From what I can understand Mr Clinton's repeal of the Glass-Steagall Act of 1933 was instrumental in forging the intimate links between the Brains and the Ploddies. I presume he was unaware that the latter would be putty in the hands of the former who probably licked their chops at the prospect. He did have a tendency to over-rate the lower middle class or at the least pretend to.
So the centre of gravity shifted towards the bottom of the pyramid and, as we all know, that's when the music stops. Only the taxpayer can pay unless he transfers it all to the kids in the form of promissary notes which fall due when he's dead.
And regulators generally come from that class from which the Chief Justice hails and the Brains come from the Darwinian melting pot. Like footballers it is not who they are but what they are. I saw a Brains say the he dived onto his console as soon as the second plane hit the tower. Not for him wringing his hands in stunned shock and disbelief.
Matron, at the schools I've been at, yanked the plaster off and if you so much as flinched she impugned your masculinty. At six.
It's quite simple.