the quiet coup continues..............., page-8

It's all too little too late and so typical of the human condition.

How easy it is to picture Bernanke standing at the doors of an open stable, dishevelled, cowboy hat spinning on his head but coming slowing to a stop as the dust cloud on the horizon begins to settle from the stampede of horses. His hat stops, tilted in an ungainly manner possibly obscuring his view even further as Geinther stumbles from the outhouse still trying to hitch up his trousers, shirt tail protruding from his fly screaming at Bernanke to close the stable doors.

There they both are, staring in dumbfounded disbelief as an uneasy silence descends on the farm. Geinther blinks and a lonely pigeon flutters above providing the final vote from the American people in the form of a runny white bird poo right on Bernanke's forehead. Then he blinks. Then Geinther blinks. Then Bernanke blinks. Then gummy grandfather Greenspan sitting in the rocking chair on the porch lets go of a huge fart.

That, my friends, will be the swan song of American economics.