Those who still have a war chest of dollars got a happy purpose...

Those who still have a war chest of dollars got a happy purpose for watching share prices do a (black) swan dive, the rest of us might do better to go fishing or go clean something.

This too shall pass brothers and sisters. The cure for low prices is low prices. That kilometre-plus-deep copper and gold is still there backing our shares. Anyway, this crash involves the whole world, not just HCH. We aren't alone.

Alert - about to go off-topic and stay there.

Speeeeaking of fishing, the great Henry Lawson had a bit to say about fishermen in his short story "The Darling River" in 1900, as follows:

"There are a good many fishermen on the Darling. They camp along the banks in all sorts of tents, and move about in little box boats that will only float one man. The fisherman is never heavy. He is mostly a withered little old madman, with black claws, dirty rags (which he never changes), unkempt hair and beard, and a “ratty” expression. We cannot say that we ever saw him catch a fish, or even get a bite, and we certainly never saw him offer any for sale.

He gets a dozen or so lines out into the stream, with the shore end fastened to pegs or roots on the bank, and passed over sticks about four feet high, stuck in the mud; on the top of these sticks he hangs bullock bells, or substitutes—jam tins with stones fastened inside to bits of string. Then he sits down and waits. If the cod pulls the line the bell rings.

The fisherman is a great authority on the river and fish, but has usually forgotten everything else, including his name. He chops firewood for the [paddle-steamers] boats sometimes, but it isn’t his profession— he’s a fisherman. He is only sane on points concerning the river, though he has all the fisherman’s eccentricities. Of course he is a liar.

When he gets his camp fixed on one bank it strikes him he ought to be over on the other, or at a place up round the bend, so he shifts. Then he reckons he was a fool for not stopping where he was before. He never dies. He never gets older, or drier, or more withered looking, or dirtier, or loonier—because he can’t. We cannot imagine him as ever having been a boy, or even a youth. We cannot even try to imagine him as a baby. He is an animated mummy, who used to fish on the Nile three thousand years ago, and catch nothing."

Sounds like a typical micro-cap shareholder...