Only A Pawn In Their Game

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid

And the marshals and cops get the same

But the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool

He's taught in his school

From the start by the rule

That the laws are with him

To protect his white skin

To keep up his hate

So he never thinks straight

'Bout the shape that he's in

But it ain't him to blame

He's only a pawn in their game.

And the greatest depression goes on, far from reckoning, unbeknown to the mainstream. Collectively, no one is paying attention, and yet dying a little faster everyday. A chronic illness, we adapt to the malaise. Even when we try, it is hard to break free from the fantastic circus.

The conventional view of a depression hinges upon images from the 1930’s. Black and white snapshots left over from a point in time that has been largely forgotten or worse, rewritten.

Rewritten by the victors - the banks, and the political -finance industrial complex they enable — more so at this time than any other in history.

Living the lie has never been more profitable. Take a look at the master of puppets, JP Morgan Chase. Their loan to deposit ratio is at a record low of 56%. The most telling snapshot of the financial system. They are making very few loans and yet vacuuming up record (low cost) deposits, which are then leveraged into equities.

Essentially, via the Fed, the banks have given themselves all the love of money conjuring, without the risk of making loans in a ZIRP world. Six years gone for the heart of the economy. The great stagnation-the misallocation of what could otherwise be risk capital for new business formation.

They've stuffed the natural channels for progress for short term gambling profits. Risk free all the way through. For when it all backfires (like always does) the pain will be socialized across future generations.

And the more the middle class is squeezed, the more the Fed will need to step in.

Transfer payments of unfunded liabilities will provide the money velocity while the banks will continue to reap high risk rewards without risk. Transfer payments will fuel consumption — and bid prices up until the next major crash.

We can only see what we could have seen earlier. Nothing much to see here, other than the increased spectacle of ignorance matched only by the fever pitch volatility of world financial markets.

We are six years in. Surrounded by a thousand black swans, 360 degrees of precipice. And this time around, bubbles are everywhere. Bonds, equities, housing and all along the spectrum for each.

Junk bond yields are at all-time lows. Equity margin debt is at all-time highs. While the housing bubble slowly turns back toward its trend line, shouts of sub-prime can be heard from the halls of injustice.

Ultimately, debt matters in the servicing. And the servicing is now.  Inability to service debt will have a geometric shadow effect on balance sheets and derivatives.

Will it be deflation, inflation, hyperinflation or both? However you define, whatever you call it...it will be failure. Transfer payments will continue, direct money printing will come with hysteria, and wars will rage on for the benefit of the oligarchy.

All of it will be shrouded from most by a combination of terrorist false flag induced chaos or Ebola pandemic reality. Most people will continue to miss the opportunities to focus on what they can do and instead become blinded by fear and do nothing.

Currently, we live in a brave new HALCION world, numb and safe from the inner kingdom of truth with all of us. From dawn to dusk, things turn "Orwellian" as the cycle completes its totalitarian turn.

We are living through this chaos now - the conflict at the heart of what is often deemed as entitlement. Medical care, education are firmly wrapped in an entitlement display when the real issue is the raw inflation induced by the corporate banking class.

Real banking will not return for some time. The hidden depression will mirror a hidden inflation. Electronic food lines, transfer payments replaced by the magical array of chromatic illusions - equally mysterious.

If you look close enough, you can see the shadow of the matrix. You can smell the stench of boiling frogs. The champaign socialist dreams of intervention, the middle class disappears, replaced by a smoldering populace.

Real wealth is taken from every man while the photo chrome fantasy mantra goes on and on.

From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks

And the hoof beats pound in his brain

And he's taught how to walk in a pack

Shoot in the back

With his fist in a clinch

To hang and to lynch

To hide 'neath the hood

To kill with no pain

Like a dog on a chain

He ain't got no name

But it ain't him to blame

He's only a pawn in their game.

- Bob Dylan, Only a Pawn in Their Game

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